Depression, Disordered Eating, And All That Bullshit In Between
As I launch into this... whatever the fuck it is I'm going to do on this blog, it makes sense to start with an introduction, doesn't it?
Hi! My name is Michaela! I am a certain number of years old, and I live in Vancouver, BC with my stupid cat. It's nice to meet you.
My relationship with food and my weight has been a struggle for most of my life. My mum always cooked us healthy meals, but as I grew to teenagehood, I didn't have to rely on the food my parents stocked in the pantry and could go procure my own junky grub. Pretty much, if I wanted it, I ate it. No holds barred (except holding a Big Mac as I shoved it in my face). After I graduated high school, my mum came to me and said, "listen u nerd, get off the fucking internet for once in your goddamn life and start doing something about your health and weight". It came from a place of love, and I took it to heart. The diet of the day was Atkins, and it worked well for me, even though I worked at Subway at the time and had to pretty much marinate myself in fresh bread smell every single day. After about 6 months, I was 50lbs down, and at a healthy weight for the first time in my post-adolescent life.
And then I moved back to the UK and discovered alcohol. And it's partner in crime, kebabs. Being 20 years old and working a serving job in the hottest restaurant outside of the 3rd circle of Hell, I was able to sweat my way to maintaining a semi-slim figure whilst still cramming my gullet with deep fried everything washed down with lager (aka The Great British Diet). But like all "good things" (ya I'm aware it wasn't actually good, but I was 20, OK. Gimme a break) it wasn't to last. Over a few years, moving back to Canada, and transitioning from serving jobs to a sedentary desk job, my weight crept back up and before I knew it, I was 20lbs over my highest previous weight (you can do the math, folks. yes that's a 70lb weight gain)
Fast forward to January 1, 2015, I finally took a long, hard look at my flabby self and realized that something needed to be done. A friend posted on Instagram that she was starting the Whole30, which I had never heard of. After reading into it, I decided why the fuck not, and launched myself into 30 days of clean eating that changed my life. For the first time, I was paying proper attention to what I ate and adapting healthy food into my everyday life, rather than only eating it when I was on a bogus crash diet. Completing 5 rounds of Whole30 over the next 2.5 years, and continuing to eat mostly clean in between, I've dropped 40lbs, With further benefit coming from finally committing to regular exercise for once in my fat life, I've found my way to a place of relative peace with my diet and body.
OK that's all, I'm totally cool and have no issues now! Oh wait... what's that giant fucker of an elephant in this blog/room? That elephant's name is Depression (which, I realize, is a terrible name for an elephant). Like so many of my brothers and sisters out there in the world, the tie between my relationship with food and depression is very tight. It's such a cliche cycle, but I eat because I'm sad and then I'm sad because I eat. My level of clinical depression is classified on the 'severe' end, meaning that if I'm not medicated, I think about killing myself a whole heap! Oh, my friend is mad at me. Might as well kill yourself! Oh, you just ate an entire pie in one sitting? Well, you're gonna gain 20lbs overnight so you might as well kill yourself! I know, you're like, 'but Michaela you're soooo freaking funny and smiley all the time. How can you be that sad?'. Well, my friends, if jokes cured depression, doctors would prescribe Mad Libs instead of SSRIs, but that ain't the way. But, listen, before you start on the 'omg you poor thing I had no idea lemme give you a hug' thing, don't fucking worry, I'm mostly OK! Healthy food + exercise + sunshine + meds = a winning combination for ya girl! OK, I'll take that hug now.
So now what? My next post, I'll talk about the change to going semi-vegetarian for the last few months, and the expectations I have for my coming month (and maybe beyond) of veganism. But, let's leave that all till later because I feel like I've talked about myself quite enough for one day, thank you very much
Don't expect this blog to turn into a froofroo lifestyle blog. No offense to my friends out there who do that so very well, it just ain't me. I intend to keep this blog crass, honest, diverse, and overall, for myself (but I'm happy to have everyone else along for the ride)
OK TTFN my lunch break is over - ciao!
Hi! My name is Michaela! I am a certain number of years old, and I live in Vancouver, BC with my stupid cat. It's nice to meet you.
My relationship with food and my weight has been a struggle for most of my life. My mum always cooked us healthy meals, but as I grew to teenagehood, I didn't have to rely on the food my parents stocked in the pantry and could go procure my own junky grub. Pretty much, if I wanted it, I ate it. No holds barred (except holding a Big Mac as I shoved it in my face). After I graduated high school, my mum came to me and said, "listen u nerd, get off the fucking internet for once in your goddamn life and start doing something about your health and weight". It came from a place of love, and I took it to heart. The diet of the day was Atkins, and it worked well for me, even though I worked at Subway at the time and had to pretty much marinate myself in fresh bread smell every single day. After about 6 months, I was 50lbs down, and at a healthy weight for the first time in my post-adolescent life.
And then I moved back to the UK and discovered alcohol. And it's partner in crime, kebabs. Being 20 years old and working a serving job in the hottest restaurant outside of the 3rd circle of Hell, I was able to sweat my way to maintaining a semi-slim figure whilst still cramming my gullet with deep fried everything washed down with lager (aka The Great British Diet). But like all "good things" (ya I'm aware it wasn't actually good, but I was 20, OK. Gimme a break) it wasn't to last. Over a few years, moving back to Canada, and transitioning from serving jobs to a sedentary desk job, my weight crept back up and before I knew it, I was 20lbs over my highest previous weight (you can do the math, folks. yes that's a 70lb weight gain)
Fast forward to January 1, 2015, I finally took a long, hard look at my flabby self and realized that something needed to be done. A friend posted on Instagram that she was starting the Whole30, which I had never heard of. After reading into it, I decided why the fuck not, and launched myself into 30 days of clean eating that changed my life. For the first time, I was paying proper attention to what I ate and adapting healthy food into my everyday life, rather than only eating it when I was on a bogus crash diet. Completing 5 rounds of Whole30 over the next 2.5 years, and continuing to eat mostly clean in between, I've dropped 40lbs, With further benefit coming from finally committing to regular exercise for once in my fat life, I've found my way to a place of relative peace with my diet and body.
So now what? My next post, I'll talk about the change to going semi-vegetarian for the last few months, and the expectations I have for my coming month (and maybe beyond) of veganism. But, let's leave that all till later because I feel like I've talked about myself quite enough for one day, thank you very much
Don't expect this blog to turn into a froofroo lifestyle blog. No offense to my friends out there who do that so very well, it just ain't me. I intend to keep this blog crass, honest, diverse, and overall, for myself (but I'm happy to have everyone else along for the ride)
OK TTFN my lunch break is over - ciao!
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| This is me, in a see through shirt! |
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