I hate this damn train.
I want off.
But I'm on it. Can't bail now.
Photos - all taken tonight, at our evening at the park.
See, once I wanted to take a break from intuitive eating, and go back to a mealplan, the dietish and I had a hard time nailing exactly what I needed down - it took a few weeks of trial and error before we figured out exactly how much food I needed. And, with all that exploring, I lost some weight. And that isn't okay.
So last week, my D put me back on weight gain portions. I don't need to gain a lot, but I do have some to gain. And, dutifully, I ate what I needed to eat. Didn't put up a fight about it. And, this week, I knew I had gained. All my clothes still fit, but I could just tell. You usually can.
And so when I went in for my appointment this afternoon, it was indeed confirmed to me that I had gained. And while I already knew this, just really REALLY knowing it, pissed me right off.
I got grouchy. And irritable. All over a little weight gain that I KNEW WAS GOING TO HAPPEN.
What is wrong with me?
It doesn't matter how many times I've been on the weight gain train, and trust me, I've been on it A LOT, I still hate it.
And it never, EVER gets any easier. Why is that?
BLARGH FRUSTRATION MOAN LAMENT HISS WHINE.