I just ate a roll. A bloody ROLL. with bUTTER. I'm so pissed off, i'm never going to be down at weigh in tues, I know it
And I had such a bloody revalation tonight as well but I still went and messed it up.
I got into my pjs and thought 'god, I hate these pjs.' They're not even PJs. The baggiest old bleach stained tshirts size XXXL and baggy old ripped bottoms from primark. I've been wearing these for years. The last time I wore nice pretty fitting matching PJs was before I had my eldest.
Why did I start wearing these?
When I was pregnant I outgrew my PJs, these things were big and comfy and loose and I thought once I had my son I'd lose the weight and be back in my nice ones.
Why did I continue to wear them?
Pretty sure when I had my son I had PND. I would sit crying, sobbing for hours on end. I struggled to breastfeed - BAD, BAD mummy. I felt like a failure. Due to my job I know the ins and outs. I know what is in formula milk. i know many of the unknown benefits of breastfeeding. I know the long term differences. I respect women's right to choose however they want to feed their baby but I wanted to be able to actually fulfill my own choice, and I couldn't. I couldn't take the crying. Who knew babies cried this much? What the hell does he want? Why doesn't he sleep? Who knew babies don't sleep at night??? Well I would have if I had done some bloody research. Noo I don't need antenatal classes. Noo I don't need to talk to anyone who has done this before, who is a mum themselves. I swear, having a real life baby was the biggest culture shock of my life. I was NOT prepared for this. I was also not prepared for the change in myself. I used to party, drink, smoke, take drugs, sleep with anyone, end up anywhere.... I lived in a squat at 14 with my boyfriend who used to wrap cord around my neck till I passed out then have sex with me - film it and show it to his friends for a laugh when they were stoned. But having a baby was HARDER. I had to care about someone. I had to take responsibilty. I had to grow up, and make choices. I grieved for my old life, which is hilarious because it was pretty much a waste anyway. My friends stopped seeing me. I stopped seeing them. I didn't want my boyfriend to touch me. I thought my son hated me because I was a bad mum because he cried and I couldn't stop him from crying. When the crying was relentless I'd shut myself in the bathroom scream, cry and throw things until I was calm enough to deal with him again. But whilst I was doing that he was laying there alone crying with nobody comforting him. So the guilt continued in a circle.
How does this relate to tatty PJs?
The more unhappy I was the more I ate. The more I ate the more I unhappy I became. The more I ate, the more weight I gained. The more weight I gained the less I would see anyone. The less I saw anyone the more lonely I became. The more lonely I become the more I ate. Food was my friend. It comforted me. It gave me something to do when my son was quiet. It became my solace.
Soon NONE of my clothes were fitting. And if I wasn't going out I could just stay in my nice big baggy PJs right? I'd spend days and days on end in PJS until I had to go out for whatever reason. When I bought more clothes I thought it was temporary - just to be comfortable for now until I've lost the weight. But then I'd get bigger ones, and bigger. And still in my head I thought it was temporary and I'd soon be losing weight.
Why am I STILL wearing these PJs?
If I'm not going out anywhere I wear PJs. They are comfortable. They hide my sins. They are like food- a comfort, a friend. But they shouldn't be. I used to enjoy getting dressed in the morning, choosing nice clothes, looking nice and feeling good about myself. I don't enjoy getting dressed anymore. It's a chore. It's depressing. It makes me sad. I don't get dressed unless I absolutely have to, because when I do it reminds me how fat I am. When I'm putting on weight I don't realise, it's like living in denial. my PJs are so big that I can't tell if I'm getting fatter so when I go to get dressed and something doesn't fit me it's a nasty surprise, and I feel unhappy all over again.
So what's the big deal?
I don't want to fear getting dressed in the morning anymore. I don't want to not go out just so I don't have to face putting proper clothes on. I don't want to panic if the doorbell rings because it's 2pm and i'm in baggy, tatty PJs. I don't want to have to suddenly rush to find something to put on as we need to make a quick run to the store. I hate being this unorganised/not in control. I hate how... unfinished I feel.
For a long time I've told people i love wearing pyjamas at home and i basically live in them because they are so comfy. But tonight I realised I don't love it, I hate it
The plan...
So basically I have decided I'm throwing out all my PJs except a couple of pairs. I have one pair of bottoms that aren't baggy that I will keep, another set of bottoms and a couple of tops. As soon as I lose some more weight they're going in the bin and i'm buying some nice PJs. Nice PJs that are also not the type of PJs I'd walk around the house in all day, like little shorts and tops etc. Because it takes a while to get out of habits and I don't want to end up wearing the new ones in the house all day once i get them. I'm really looking forward to waking up, choosing some nice, proper, clothes and getting dressed and facing the day with no sudden dashes if the doorbell rings etc.
But I'm not there just yet!
