The Triple Stoniverssary

Weighed in this morning at 17st 9.25. Dead on the same as last week, despite all the walking. Still...better than I'd thought it would be at many points this week.

Then we went to the annual Diabetic Check-Up.

That was sobering.

The last time I had one of those was in March last year. Apparently, then I weighed 14st 13.
That means in the space of a year, I've put on nearly three stone, or 42 pounds.
There was talk of putting me back on Gliclazide - the drug whose removal was one of the crowning achievements of my first Disappearing.
That was more than sobering actually, that was downright depressing.

Thing is, at a rate of just two pounds per week, it would be just 21 weeks of loss - five and a quarter months. Less than half a year to get back to what (from this vantage point) looks like the Golden Age of Disappearing.

To do this successfully, there's an adjustment that needs to be made to the Pleasure Principle in my brain. I need once again to be able to take pleasure from want. Pleasure from physical exertion and pain. Pleasure from hunger and self-denial. We all know I'm not entirely comfortable with the person this turns me into, but a weird thing has obviously happened along this journey. I used to be fat and happy - I used to eat what I wanted and take pleasure from it. Now, I don't think the same can be said of me. The numbers are running all the time in the back of my head, each mouthful is x amount of work needed to neautralise it.

The perverse thing of course is that I still eat things that I probably shouldn't, or in quantities I probably shouldn't. I do it now in spite of getting no real pleasure from it. Talk about masochistic. Surely then, if I'm going to punish myself and my body, doing it in the way that gets me going in the direction I want to go is better. Perspex walls, strict self-denial, and very much more exercise...

Tomorrow of course is an UberCommute, which tend to be light days: I don't eat much to compensate for the fact that I'm basically sitting all day long. But maybe, come Thursday, it's time for a little productive self-hatred. The truth is, while it's better than being 20 stone, I hate being the way I am right now. I hate feeling like this and feeling less confident in myself than I think I should. So basically, why not put all that hatred to good use, and essentially, over time, devour myself?

Why not? Because it makes the world a slightly colder, slightly crazier place. I'm not sure that's enough of a deterrent any more.