Pistol Packed Confession

I have a confession to make.

I went for the quick fix.  The fad.  The hype.  The starve on 500 calories a day with a dose of pregnancy hormone. 

I ordered HCG.

Not the injections.  The drops.

I feel like a total hypocrite admitting this, because, several months ago, when I was at my all-time highest weight (176), my doctor actually suggested the HCG diet.  He told me I needed to lose 30 pounds, that I was obese (mistakenly calculating my BMI to be in the obese range!) and said I should email him my results.  I was devastated and furious.

But since my California trip and post-cleanse, the scale has been creeping back up and Miss Muffin Top and her nasty ass sister, Gutty McFatty, have moved back in.  I cringe every time I see them—"unwelcome guests" is an understatement.

My metabolism is obviously still in total havoc.  I’ve been eating relatively clean during the day, but then it usually all goes to shit at night, when I eat too much and usually have a glass (or 3 of wine).  Consistency and moderation are my biggest challenges.

The rational part of me would assess this situation and say, “OK, Parker.  You’ve got to cut down on portions, cut OUT the booze and get your ass dance cardio-ing.”

The irrational part of me says, “Bee-atch—you’re out of time.  Muffin and Gutty are going to be stealing your spotlight when the camera starts rolling in 12 days!”

You see, lovelies, the Mistress is making her return to the airwaves on July 30^th when I start freelance work for NBC during the Olympics.  Awesome, right?

Not awesome when the scale is tipping 170.  Yup.  There it is.  I uttered that hideous number.

I’ve been jumping from one method of eating to the next in the last couple months— most recently trying out Kimberly Snyder’s Beauty Detox Solution.  Her philosophy is to eat light during the day and properly food combine (fruit in the morning and mostly raw vegan until your evening meal.)  This involves the infamous Glowing GreenSmoothie and a lot of salads. 

I hate salad.

Eating salad for me reminds me of when I dated a very nice guy before I met Badmuthafucka.  The nice guy wore a lot of khaki pants, button downs, went to church on Sunday and loved baseball.  He was about as apple pie All-American as you get.  He was so nice.  And so normal.  For those of you who’ve gotten to know me via Facebook and reading my blog, nice and normal are boring not really my favorite adjectives…certainly not the vernacular I would use to describe my life. 

Part of why I stayed with Mr. Nice for so long was because I felt like he lent me the kind of stability I needed at the time—he was a good boyfriend and would have been a good husband. I stayed because I felt like it was the right thing to do.  NOT because I was truly, madly, deeply in love.

The longer I was with Mr. Nice and had nice and normal evenings in watching the Red Sox, the more I craved excitement, creative energy and wild nights of passion….Kind of like when I try to eat nice salads every day like I’m “supposed to”—the more I crave rich, decadent food.

Either way, I was headed for a binge.

In the Nice Guy scenario, my binge came in the form of 25 year old sculptor with a Mohawk and pistols tattooed to this abdomen with the banners: Honor and Labor.  Let’s just say, the Mistress made it her mission to get up close and personal with those guns….Locked and Loaded, indeed. 

Best Rebound Ever...

I went from one extreme (Nice Guy) to the other extreme (Mohawk man with Pistols).  At some point, I realized I needed something in-between to make me truly happy.  Enter Badmuthafucka.  He’s got all the stable qualities I needed from Mr. Nice, with all of the art, passion and um, even bigger guns, (as you can see from the pic) than Mr. Mohawk!  SCORE!

Bringing out the Big Guns: My TRUE love

I just haven’t found that sweet spot with my diet.

Off my anti-depressant and my ADD meds, my appetite is voracious and I find myself obsessing over food more.  Not in an eating disordered way, but in a way that takes up too much time in my head.  I just want to find a plan that WORKS FOR ME.  The extremes are not healthy and I know it. 

Intuitive eating makes total sense, but continues to elude me as far as applying it. 

So, back to the HCG.

The diet plan calls for a mere 500 calories a day and drops put under your tongue 3x daily.  I thought, “I’ll just reduce my calories, but won’t do the diet since it’s too restrictive.”  EPIC FAIL.  The first 2 days call for “loading”—where you eat a ton of fatty/carby food for an excess of calories before doing the super low cal diet.  I loaded alright.  To the tune of 8 pounds in 2 days!!!!!!  WTF????

It’s taken me a week to get back to my pre-load weight.

So now, I’m 170 pounds with Miss Muffintop and Gutty taunting me in the mirror.  TV puts on 10 pounds, damnit!!!  I can’t bear the thought of 180 pounds of ME in HD!!!!!

I’m trying to figure out what to do.  I still have the drops, obviously, so my plan at this point is to suck it up, do the damn diet and lose what I can before my TV gig and then come up with some kind of middle ground for a lifestyle eating plan moving forward.

Yo-yo dieting DOES NOT WORK.  I know this.  I’m just effing up my metabolism further by doing this shit, but desperate times call for desperate measures.  I hate admitting it, but I’m feeling just that….Desperate. 

On a positive note, exercise has been good…I’m in the middle of Level 1 of Meta Omni and alternating cardio for 40-50 minutes a day with TAM dance cardio and Hamelin cardio.

Atleast it doesn’t feel like I’ve got a loaded gun to my head….oh wait, I remember that now…(tee hee!)

Any and all insight would be appreciated! 

xxoo