I do highly recommend it - an entertaining and interesting read - but then I could be considered a bit of a stalker... I noticed a blurb on her book in my Women's Health magazine and emailed her to see if she knew about it. She didn't. And she responded in such a lovely manner that when I got my Dymocks weekly newsletter and saw it recommended in there too, I forwarded it on to her and got another lovely response. So perhaps my buying it as soon as I was aware it was out (thanks Lala!) and reading it in a day could be a part Pavlovian response from her loveliness
Anyways, the book goes into some detail about her eating habits, her highs and her lows, her methods and her thoughts. All the way through I would read it and recognise glimpses of myself (and just about every other woman I know, I imagine) although there was one part that struck me the most (I've edited bits out from the blog post and I don't know how it works now that she's published so Shauna? Please don't sue me!)
About half an hour ago I was in Safeway and I spotted the 500ml tub of Ben & Jerry's Cookie Dough icecream and I thought, wow, this is destiny baby, you were meant to be in my belly!This is me*.
And now I sit here peering into a more-than-half empty tub and wonderingwhat possessed me..... Somehow I forgot today that I never really enjoyed it that much. And it took me half a tub to remember!? I've absolutely demolished it....
I feel quite ill...
I'm off to his place tonight and volunteered to cook coz he's in the recording studio today with his wee band. So that's how I ended up in Safeway oggling the ice cream. I got us some noodles and stir fry vegies,and fruit for dessert. But here's the Old Dietgirl that still lurks within me -- I actually thought to myself, "My sister is at work, I have a few hours alone. I could scoff that ice cream, noone will ever know, and The Boy will think I'm a legend for whipping up this healthy dinner!"
Oh how clever and crafty am I for concocting such a secret plan?! Not freaking clever at all, seeing now I feel like a whale and will no doubt be trying to surpress my gurgling stomach all night. How sexy.
I wish I could get over this whole, "Quick! Eat! While No One's Looking!" mentality. There is always going to be plenty of shitty food for me to eat, I don't need to scarf it down in secret. It's always going to be there, it's always going to be rubbish, so I am not going to miss out on wild pleasure and gratification if I leave it the f*ck alone. And people will find out soon enough, when my gut and arse come spilling over the barrier of my pants. Will I ever learn!?
The nutritionally hollow meals (ha! like they can be called that when they are just a copious amount of a snack in addition to my actual meals) that seem like destiny.
The realisation that really a bag of misery chips does not taste that fantastic, I did not really enjoy it, I can't believe I demolished it.
The illness, the feeling like your organs have swollen, pressing against the barriers of your skin, all, ALL, due to the copious amounts of calories that have been forced in, past the point of comfort.
The seeing time alone as 'opportunities' to gorge myself.
The misguided belief that somehow that crap is not going to be there.
And that is key.
If there is something in the house that is 'bad'('GOOD') then I will eat it. I will spend all day thinking about it, thinking about when I can eat it, wondering if I can finish it before The Hun gets home, bringing with him the potential to have to share and not 'get to' eat the equivalent of 2 or 5 or 10 or twenty serves on my own. In my lazy pants. On the couch.
Shauna mentioned throughout her book some of the history and reasoning that may have contributed to the weight gain in the first place. In some ways, I think my MUST EAT THAT NOW instinct comes due to an my relationship with junk food when I was younger - we just did not have it in the house, or at school, or when we went out. Four children in less than five years on a somewhat limited budget left little room for treaties and sweeties and candies. So when we went to a party where these things were, we would gorge ourselves. Go nuts. Almost make ourselves sick.
Somewhere along the line, eldest bro found a way to overcome it - always the only one to have easter egg chocolate past mid afternoon on Easter Sunday. The only one to not go through some sort of weight blowout between 18 - 22. The only one that you can look at and descibe as 'slim' or 'fit' or 'healthy'.
I need to realise that a bag of chips will still be there tomorrow. Even if it is not that exact one, there will always be chips, there will always be Jam Fancies, there will always be mock prawn toast.
I need to remember the gross feeling of over indulgence. Seperate it from the glee of 'sneaking a naughty'. Remember why it is bad for me.
I need to realise I'm not missing out on anything by not gorging myself sick - I'm missing out on more by doing it.
*Don't get me wrong - it's not me every day, or even every week, but it is still me.