Long story short: I got on a new medication (see other blog), and it worked great!
But I noticed I was putting weight back on. In a matter of three months, I’d gone back up 25 pounds and two sizes.
I kept trying – and failing – to stick to my calorie count, and I kept trying – and succeeding – at exercising.
I went to see my psychiatrist, who is normally super awesome, and I asked a very important question that I should have asked three months ago.
“Is one of the side effects weight gain?”
He looked at me, perhaps weighing me in his mind.
“Are you insatiably hungry?”
Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner!
Because of that, and other unenjoyable side effects, my med got swapped out. The downside was that I had some highs and lows on the new medication, and so getting back into shape wasn’t at the top of my list.
Now I feel better. Good enough to get back in shape.
Except my body seems to disagree with me.
While I eat less and try to stay active, the scale (and my clothes) are not being kind.
In the space of two weeks, I managed to lose two pounds. Yup. That’s it.
But it was movement, and while it was slower than I wanted, it was movement. Downward movement. I’d take it.
Then we had a movie night out. I splurged. I went over my calorie count by about 350 calories because, after the movie, we went to the Cheesecake Factory and I had nachos for a late dinner. Less than a third of the plate because OMG that serving of nachos was huge!
The next morning, I hopped on the scale.
I had gained back half a pound.
Because of those damned nachos from hell.
I’d say it was a fluke, that it wasn’t the nachos, that I’d just eaten my dinner too late that night. But that was a week ago. My weight has been holding steady all that time. Even with having two days of extreme nausea from a stomach flu that had me only eating soup.
It’s super easy to give up now. To blame the nachos. To decide that, clearly, I was not meant to be in shape.
But I have a whole closet full of clothes that attest to the fact that, once upon a time, and not that long ago, I was actually in shape. I felt good.
It may suck that I’m back up 23.5 pounds, but maybe if I avoid any more nachos, I’ll get there again.
* Because this is the way it always works, I wrote this late last night. This morning when I hopped on the scale, I had lost a pound. What?