Dear subs. Or followers. Or whatevers, (I think I shall settle with the latter. Subs sounds way to mundane and I don’t need ‘followers’. I am not Jesus Christ. ) This is why I never use the abomination that is ‘Twitter’; never quite got my head round that one. So ‘Whatevers’ it shall be. No offense intended although it seems that everything you say will offend someone, somewhere on the planet and they will not hesitate to let you know about it. Another strike against Twitter. Call me a Special Snowflake (did I get that one right?) but I am neither brave enough nor masochistic enough to put myself through that.
Yes, after nearly a year I am back or ‘I’mmm back’ as Arnold Schwarzenegger’s character said in The Terminator and what better way to start than a piece called ‘Fad Diet Friday’. Yes, I am aware that it is technically a Saturday but let’s not be excessively pedantic.
Long ago I learnt that on this glorious and miraculous medium called the Internet all things are possible. You see, I am about to embark on what the young people on YouTube are calling a ‘Wright Loss Journey’, only mine is not quite so thrilling as theirs because I have only a stone and a half to lose rather than the standard three to four hundred pounds so my ‘struggle’ pales in comparison. I am no longer the woman I was when this photograph was taken in 2016. Who knew you could body shame yourself? In other words I do not look like this anymore: https://rielouise.wordpress.com/2015/04/08/in-red/
In 2014 I had a breakdown (the last of many) and I was hospitalised. When my blood work was completed the staff started to panic. My Phlebotomist went crazy and rushed into the office and started to telephone all sorts of people. I could see her through the plexiglass window. As for myself, I was strangely numb. I wondered what all the fuss was about. I think they call this phenomenon ‘La Belle Indifference’ but don’t quote me on that. So I was rushed to hospital in an ambulance devoid of a siren, accompanied by one of the nursing assistant and I was put in a wheelchair ( yes, they do that over here now.) and taken by a porter to a ward in the bowels of the hospital. It was there that I was informed by a very serious looking doctor that I had something called ‘ pernicious anaemia. I had a cannula put into my arm. The young doctor was I inexperience and it took her several attempts to drive the thing home. Halfway through I pleaded: “It’s all right. Don’t bother. Just let me go home and I will eat whatever is necessary to put this right. I was then told that I would have to eat trucks full of iron rich food to rectify the situation I now found myself in, or rather, the situation I had put myself in.
For, without being aware of it I had been on a ridiculously unhealthy crash diet. In 1014 I withdrew from the world. I was almost a recluse. I saw few people, apart from my neighbours, my mother and my best, oldest and most loyal friend. Without knowing it I had lost a substantial amount of weight. And without noticing I was eating the bare minimum needed to keep my self alive. Rice cakes were my main source of sustenance, along with the odd chocolate bar one packet of potato chips.
In short, I lost weight by eating absolute crap. And besides all of this I took no exercise. I would market it if I could remember it. It is this experience that has stimulated my interest in fad diets. And for your benefit, but mostly my own, I shall dive headfirst into the world of nutritional quackery and dissect them, right here on my newly revived blog.
So what, you are probably wondering is this rather incoherent ramble all about. It is just a way of dipping my toe in a sea infested with sharks. Or, in my rather less melodramatic case, a pond infested with sniping goldfish. Like it or not I have returned.
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