I've been heavy for much of my adult life, nothing horrendous but definitely gained a lot over covid. Ended up with a bmi of 31 this winter and completely shaken by the death of a colleague (heart attack at 52 leaving partner and kids behind) I decided enough's enough.
Started keeping a food diary and my god, the amount of crap (biscuits, chocolate, crisps, sugar etc) I ate without really registering it in my mind was crazy.
I've managed to shift 7kg so far in 3 months, mostly by cutting out anything between meals, stopping drinking at home and going for a brisk walk as many days as I can.
I still struggle a bit with needing to rely a lot on willpower to resist biscuits with tea, snacks on the sofa watching Netflix and wine of a weekend etc.
My DH just doesn't really seem to want to help, constant offers of "do you want a glass of wine?", "I've got a big bag of crisps you wanna watch a movie" etc. He's never really struggled with weight and I'm not saying this is impossibly hard but 3 months in and it's still requiring a good level of effort to eat healthily and resist my old habits.
This morning, out for a brisk walk with the dog, come back, told DH I was going to stop by the local shop to get some bananas so I could have banana on toast when I got back.
I come in to a fired breakfast.... "it's Sunday, I thought you'd appreciate it" 🤬🤬🤬
Cue a big row about me being pissed off with his lack of support and constant offers of food/drink he knows I'm trying to cut down on.
He's off in the huff, making noises about only trying to be kind and how I'm being ungrateful and it's not like I'm an alcoholic and he's one of those pals desperate for a night out and trying to get me to drink again..... Twat.
Fried breakfast in the food bin and I've just eaten toast and banana.
I know I'm not BU but just wanted to rant