The Body Coach 90 Day SSS Plan – The rest of week 3

So as you know, week three got off to a wobbly start, but I was determined not to be beaten. I woke up on Friday, feeling refreshed and ready to go, I cracked on with a HIIT session and rewarded myself with some yummy pancakes.IMG_6464

They are seriously good, but soooo filling. I was on such a high after exercising I decided to try out the chicken satay for lunch, which was delicious and better than the one I had from the chinese takeaway the other week, but that was rubbish to be fair! You cannot see it in the pic but that contains a whole 120g bag of rocket and it wasnt even enough greens!!IMG_6474

Friday lunch went the usual way, the angel & devil in my head fighting out whether to go out to lunch, then my friend popped over to my desk and without thinking I suggested wine. Oh well. I still managed to go home and cook after meeting the boyfriends parents in the pub where they had taken the kids for dinner, more red wine! I tried out a new recipe, cod with Spicy peas. It was bloody lovely, it doesn’t look much in the picture but it was really tasty, definitely one to have again.IMG_6482

The only problem with knocking back all this red wine is that I felt a bit moody, the boyfriend was being snappy and miserable and I couldn’t cope with it so spent most of the evening sulking.

Saturday

Woke up the next morning, determined not to carry the misery on, my boyfriend was taking the kids to football and I was to do a HIIT workout, I was trying not to think about it and just get to it. It worked and I felt really good afterwards, I decided to have another go at the spanish omelette.IMG_6481

It tasted so much better this time, not burnt. It was still more of a hash than an omelette but it was lovely. I was meeting my friend for lunch and had arranged to go to Browns so that I could have a sirloin steak and some green veg. The boyfriend was now home and being even more miserable as he didn’t feel well, seriously! I said goodbye to the kids and left the house without saying goodbye to him, that will teach him. I met my friend but we forgot to book a table so that meant a 30 minute wait, which meant, you guessed it red wine, we had a great catch up, I forgot to ask for no chips with my steak and I ate them, dammit. Still I could be good for the rest of the day. I was feeling tired, hormonal so on my way home, I picked up more red wine and planned to sulk until my boyfriend apologised.

This didnt happen as I got home and just wanted to make up, I couldn’t bear the sulking. Unfortunately, the peace didn’t last long and another bicker ensued later on which led me to not have any dinner that night, I still made myself a cashew curry but put it in the fridge to have for lunch Monday & Tuesday. I was so wound up I wasnt really tired and he was like a nodding dog so went up to bed, I stayed downstairs for another 30 mins or so and when I went up he was still awake and said he wanted to wait up for me.

Sunday I woke up feeling a bit better, but not entirely sulk free. I decided to go for an interval run to see if this would help. I got up and made the kids some toast and off I went. Bloody hell, interval running is harder than normal running! I came back covered in sweat but in a slightly better mood. I got showered, made the kids a smoothie each with the help of one in their chef hat and made me and my boyfriend a spanish omelette and left them downstairs playing the computer while I ate my breakfast in relative piece. I came down a while later and decided to clean the kitchen. The kids asked for a milkshake, which the boyfriend agreed to, so I made this and cracked on scrubbing every surface and cleaning the floor to finish off. I kept reminding my boyfriend of the time as they had to be at his parents for dinner at 3pm as they do every other Sunday, then at 2pm he finally decides its time to get ready so off goes to the shower, leaving the kids with no instructions whatsoever. At 2.30pm I tell them to go and get ready as he is still upstairs doing god knows what and I cannot deal with him stomping around in a huff because they’re late. They go upstairs and then it begins, of course they’re not getting ready, they’re doing everything but. However, I am busy cleaning up after everyone and decide that since my boyfriend is upstairs, he can deal with it. After about 15 minutes of him asking them to get ready he comes downstairs and says to me “no more milkshakes” Everything is all my fault of course, perhaps if they hadn’t been on the computer since 8.30am this morning and got ready instead we wouldn’t be having this issue?

By the time they had all left the house, I was done cleaning the kitchen and decided on a cup of tea and a carb killa. Rock n Roll! I binge watched Ex on the Beach and had a lime and avocado smoothie for lunch, feeling very pleased with myself at having exercised and also not killing my boyfriend. I could feel it bubbling up inside me but I was determined not to cause an argument. I decided to do a fake tan and paint my nails to make myself feel better, I wanted to shake this fog. By the time he came home I was in a bit of a better mood I made him some chicken satay and at the last-minute decided I wanted a cheese and mushroom omelette, the evening went on with no sulking and we went to bed fine and dandy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

From A to D

I had entered the ballot for the London Marathon and somehow got in. I had mixed emotions about doing it, I thought it would be good for me to have something positive to focus on but also I was bricking it. I’d been pretty good for the first months training, I barely drank alcohol too but despite my seemingly healthy lifestyle, I kept getting ill. I joked with people saying my body needs alcohol as it seemed whenever I went without it for too long, I got a cold or a virus, things I had never been prone to before plus my libido was at an all time low, another thing that was out of character. I was hoping that all this exercise would boost my mood, as I kept reading it would but if I’m honest it didn’t really I was either at a complete high or I was at an all time low and the highs were few and far between.

After the marathon was over, the lows got worse and worse, at first I thought it was because of the build up and now it was over, kind of like a bride after her wedding, but it just kept getting worse. I would be at my desk at work and for no apparent reason I would feel such an overwhelming sadness I would have to fight back the tears. There were no highs at all now and I was annoyed with myself, why was I feeling like this? I have nothing to be sad about, nothing at all. My life was pretty perfect and my divorce was finally coming to an end. Any day now! The straw that broke the camels back was when I went to lunch with my boyfriend and I just burst into tears. I couldn’t go on like this, I had tried everything to lift my mood, vitamins, meditation, reading books & articles, CBT, counselling, exercise, I’d even had my thyroid checked. I didn’t know what else left there was to try apart from the one thing I had been avoiding. Medication.

I was always reading articles about mental health, trying to keep up to date with any techniques that may help with my anxiety, depression is often mentioned in such articles and I would sometimes read them and think “that sounds like me” but dismissed it as I didn’t have anything to be depressed about! I had a good job, great family, nice home & fantastic boyfriend. How could I be depressed? Whatever this was, I knew I could not carry on living in such misery, I wanted myself back, I missed me!

So after much deliberation and lots of tears, I booked myself in to the doctors.

My perception of antidepressants was that they turned you into a zombie and that they were addictive. I’m not even sure where this came from, but I has always been very anti anti- depressants, but knowing I had tried every other avenue, I knew it was likely that this was going to be offered to me and I was so far gone that I was actually worried they were going to turn me away with no options at all and nothing would change.

After four weeks of crying on a daily basis, the day I went to the doctors, I was extremely happy, I was almost annoyed as I thought the doctor would think I was making it up. I sat in the waiting room nervously awaiting my name to be called and it seemed like forever, the next thing I knew I was sat opposite a doctor who actually looked more nervous than me.

“So what can I do for you today?”

“Well I can’t stop feeling low and crying, I’ve tried everything vitamins, meditation, reading books & articles, CBT, counselling, exercise & blood tests but nothings working, typically today is the first time I have actually felt good. I didn’t want to go on tablets but I feel this may be the only way forward, but I don’t want to be on them forever, I dont want to get addicted. What do you think?”

It was like verbal diarrhea! I don’t even think I took a breath. To my relief (and probably his now I had shut up!) he agreed that I had tried every possible avenue and that he would prescribe some anti depressant for 6 months, I was to come back after I had taken them for one month to see how I was getting on.

Where these really going to work? I was scared!