Day 17: New Hat!

Went to Windsor today with Nadia and Stel to buy a Barbour hat. I had one before — a donkey green one with a dark brown waxed cotton rose adorning the brim. There was nothing wrong with it, it was decent, kept the rain off my face and kept its shape.

The only trouble was, it was a melt-into-the-background hat. It did nothing for my complexion, hid my face and was rudimentary and workmanline. And then I lost it, and felt a mild regret, but nothing monumental.

Well, today, at Barbour, they had sold out in the large green hats. But, they DID have navy hats with the plaid lining and the jaunty plaid bow on the rim. An audacious, feminine hat. I tried it on. It suited my newly-slimmer face. Nadia was tentative. Was it a little too outré for my usually dour tastes? I looked in the mirror. The bright plaid lifted my face, widened my eyes and gave them a sparkle. I was going to be THIN soon. Did I want a donkey-green hat to hide inside, or a girly little number to call attention to myself?

My plaid hat is hanging by the front door tonight. I would not have bought it two weeks ago. Happy things are happening in my life, after so many years.

Week Two Weigh-In

And another five pounds GONE. Bringing the total loss to my first stone. In two weeks. Beats bloody Weight Watchers hollow.

Tonight we got our first dose of transactional analysis, looking at the disapproving “parent” voices in our heads, versus the self-indulgent, self-destructive “child” voices. The place to be is in your “adult” ego state, using all the available reasoning to make decisions when put in a pinch.

Four members told me my face had transformed, and, indeed, it IS much thinner. It still doesn’t make this diet easy, though. I am hungry a lot, but it is easier to say “NO FOOD, FATTY” to myself, than have a small salad and a slice of wholewheat toast…

Day 11 — Survived Birthday Party

Stella’s friend Theo turned three last week; his party was on Sunday. Imagine a table laden with soft, fresh sandwiches catered by Waitrose, a fudgy chocolate birthday cake and a jug of Pimms — for the adults, of course)! Imagine, then, sinking your teeth into a Lighter Life Peanut Bar, while your three-year-old is treating some moist mini-sausages on her plate with utmost contempt.

Afterwards, our friends invited us to their home for paella. I had my savoury drink in a mug while they tucked into prawns and squid. But by that time, it was okay. I was enjoying the company so much that I sort of — transcended — the immediate food-laden situation. My friends looked at me like I was on Death Row, though…

I still think about eating, but less frequently than I used to last week. However, I am tired, tired, tired. I collapse into bed in a heap at night and find it hard to wake up at 7. I think it’s just my body adjusting to its first two weeks of shock.