On my birthday, in September of 2016, I was lying on my bathroom floor, waiting for my daughter to be done with the restroom and crying on the phone to my husband, begging for sushi.
Three weeks before that sobbing mess I decided to do the same diet as my husband started the previous February (and lost 60lbs in 2 months). I myself was 60lbs heavier than I ever had been and pretty stressed out. We had just had the dog bite incident, and I was in the middle of quitting my meds. I was miserable.
Before he decided to be a better man (his words), Miles had watched a show called My Diet is Better than Yours and liked one of the top contenders, the Wild Diet. He based his diet off of what he saw in the show. When I joined in we read the book and used it as the basis for our meals. Only sprouted grains, little to no sugar, only grass-fed dairy, and a high-fat ratio. We failed at the lots of veggies part.
The first three weeks sucked. I was starving, I couldn’t eat anything I wanted, allowed foods were boring or weird, and this was after months of cooking according to the diet. It was different when I was going through it vs. witnessing him.
After three weeks it started to get better. My palette changed and things that weren’t sweet to me before became delectable and foods that were sweet before became way too sweet and inedible. By December I was 70lbs lighter, and my full 80lbs by the end of January. It got easy after that. In 2017 I rocked that diet, aided by double dose antidepressants mania, and managed to make it to the holidays. I spent my days in a co-working space in the city, an easy walk to high fat & Mediterranean foods.
2018, I gained about 15lbs in the winter and dropped it by spring when none of my new happy clothes fit. This has maintained until my Seroquel was upped to 700 and something that had happened on occasion through this took hold permanently. I wanted to eat, and I couldn’t. Nearly everything was disgusting in thought and/or when trying to eat it. I couldn’t stand food being in my mouth and would only eat while driving or otherwise fully distracted. While it made keeping weight off easier, it made living harder. I only ate the inside of a breakfast sandwich & kind bars all day, maybe some light string cheese, that’s all I could handle. This was around the time I started lithium, and as the dosages increased, my ability to handle different foods did too.
And then we both blew up our diets. We had a child-free weekend and we decided to FEAST. I made Christmas cookies (my downfall) and we had amazing donuts & the tartest key lime pie ever(his downfall that I joined). I still fantasize about that pie, it was amazing. Don’t mind the drool.
Once we had that weekend both of us started sneaking in carb & sugar food, it didn’t do too much to my weight, I could balance it, but that food was easy to eat. My lithium upped again and I wanted All The Carbs. I gave up a couple weeks ago. I didn’t go binge, but I was eating two frosted cookies I every night. I had two bagels with cream cheese & jelly every day. I told myself I could keep it under 10lbs until the holidays were over, but that came dangerously close yesterday morning. Yesterday I let myself eat what I wanted, including the two bagels, but I wouldn’t eat past 9.
Bolstered by a half pound weight loss since yesterday, I spent today focused on having more improvement in my eating. I only had one bagel spread out over a couple meals, chicken & tapioca cheese bread, and a s’more on a holiday walk in trees. Today I was right back to the old problems. I wanted to eat, the idea of it was disgusting, I could barely eat the cheese bread, but it’s what we had that I could eat. I wanted cookies for a millisecond before even those were disgusting. I am not a fan of this brain trick. I spend so much time worrying that I’m re-triggering my eating disorder, it honestly feels like it. I am not a fan of this feeling that I cannot eat like a normal person with a normal brain. Something to bring up to my therapist, but I’m open to researching as well. I simply hate this, but I don’t want to get fat or get the metabolic issues that come with some psychiatric meds.
This sucks. I’ve gotten used to the ease that comes with having a fairly fit body, I like my clothes, but I don’t want to be in this mental cage anymore either.