Daily Log 1.30
DW: 181.8
Calories: 2000+
Food: Curry and skyr at 350, pad of butter tbsp sugar at 130, mochi at 600, egg foo young, 5 chocolates at 300, and 2 gluten free oreos at 130. So. 1510 plus half an egg foo young pancake. It was salty, had sprouts, onion, egg, soy, and some kind of binding agent like flour, and half a dinner plate. So. I'm gonna estimate 500 or more and put this as 2000+ for calories.
Exercise: Couple pushups, bit of walking
Notes: I knew this would happen. Increased weight due to salt, and again tomorrow because of excess calories from today. I'm gonna be miserable for a bit having just got UNDER 180 just to tip the scales again. I'm working the next few days so I'll need to scale back under daily intake at 8 or 900, then down to 6 or 7, then 4 or 5, then 300, if I don't want to deregulate fantastically. I'm realizing that I have an issue with trashing food or otherwise putting it away. I'm almost... afraid not to clean my plate, especially if I hit more than halfway through. I was forced to do it so much growing up, and told I was ungrateful because there were starving kids in africa and I wouldn't finish a plate. And as a result I've got this... guilt complex surrounding wasting food, specifically food on my plate. Clearing out fridges and pantries and tossing leftovers I don't have issue with, because they went bad. But it still drives home... I really don't need to make big batches of anything, and I really can afford to get smaller amounts of groceries. Like. I knew that enough that I never but milk products or raw potatoes unless I have it planned in, and even then it's too much and I have to throw out blocks of cheese or half a bottle of milk or most of a bag if potatoes after making a fry and two pots of soup because they're souring or molding. And I wish the pandemic was over, because then I could walk about and find out if there's a nearby donation center that accepts these sorts of things. Gods. Food stresses me out. I resent my mother massively for this. At my grandmother's, we ate what we wanted when we wanted, and she'd only really nag if we hadn't had a protein that day. When it was just dad at home, we'd eat dinner however we pleased, not necessarily at the table, and I could have portions I liked, and toss the leftovers as I needed, knowing Mom would be pissed about our food choices and culture without her around. When did I start eating my feelings to cope with it all??? Middle school? High school??? It wasn't like it was a consistent thing, only when depression hit hard or something traumatic happened. So I guess. It got a lot worse in 7th and 8th and 9th, then on and off through 10th and 11th. And 12th and first semesters of college I just,,, didn't have a proper grasp of portion size or nutrition. Especially with Mom's in and out of dieting fads all the time. I'm getting better. Just. Geez. I'm depressed and upset and I just want to be skinni and healthy and feel good about my body.
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