So anyone who reads my other blog will know that I had a bad time in December and wound up in a psych ward for a week. One of the things that changed during that week was my medication. The doctor there added a new medication to my regimen, and other than making me sleepy, it seemed to be working pretty good.
Except that I gained weight once I was on it.
Sure, I wasn’t depressed anymore, but I was watching the pounds come back. Pounds I had worked hard to make go away.
The worst part was that I was still trying to be good. I was trying to snack on healthy food, trying to not eat too much, trying to exercise.
I went to a regular visit with my psychiatrist, and I asked him about the medication – I asked if it had any side effects like weight gain.
He looked at me and said, “Oh, have you been insatiably hungry?”
Yup. That’s exactly what he said.
And I realized that was a pretty good description of what I’d been feeling for the past two months. Insatiable hunger.
It actually helps a little to know that. It helps to know it’s not me – it’s the medication trying to sabotage me. It isn’t easy to say no when I feel hungry, but I know it’s not really being hungry. I’m eating enough. It just doesn’t feel like enough.
I’ve gained back 15 pounds. I’m not happy about it. But I’m reminded of years ago, when I started my weight loss journey, when I heard another woman say that she’d rather be thin than happy. I don’t want to be that woman. I want to be in shape. I want to be healthy. And part of being healthy means being mentally stable, which means taking my medicine.
I’m working on losing that 15 pounds and getting back to where I was, but if I don’t manage it, I’ll still survive. A little bigger than I want to be, but if I can do it and stay healthy, then I’m still in good shape. Right?