Tag: genetics are a bitch

kicking diabetes ass: week 3, day 4… feed me, seymour! (g2)

Damn, forgot to publish this when I wrote it…. my bad.

I’m guessing this is the point where my body is going “What the holy fuck are you doing?!?! I just got this body to a good point to be self-sufficient for at least 7.47 fucking catastrophes. You will fucking eat now!”

In other words, I spent a lot of time being hungry. Hungry is new for me during this little journey through insanity. It started off me eating below 500 and having to remember to eat a bit more, to then forgiving fluxes between 500-800 since it was still the goal range. To now, where I’ve touched 1k once or twice and could have still gone for a steak… or three.

Ironically as I try to lean into protein to stabilize the hunger pang more, my carbs have been occasionally dropping in half. This looks really weird when your calories are higher than you want, but your carbs are almost nonexistent. It was easier to do than I ever believed possible. Really, I would have fought you like hell and said there was no way to have 18 carbs a day, but I did just that.

It’s also been a really interesting exploration in applying new ideas to old concepts. I found that half a sliced avocado with salsa and diced ham is friggin epic and kicks a hunger pangs ass.

I love grilled cheese and tomato soup. I found a soup that worked well carbwise, a huge gourmet chunk of aged sharp bacon cheddar and found a recipe for eggplant “dude food” style. I know only one way I can make eggplant… fried. I love it at Japanese restaurants but have no clue how to do it, and the idea of cooking it to mush makes me gag. This was perfect.

I’ve been finally feeling a wee bit lighter, but I won’t be taking any kind of measurements until the weekend and only then in inches in my midsection. I didn’t want to get hung up on numbers, but I know, aside from diabetes, abdominal fat will kill me.

My legs still ache, though not as much, and I’m still retaining a ton of fluid on my legs. I wonder sometimes how many pounds of liquid a diabetic body holds and why in hell it just seems to be a balloon about to pop. Gran always looked like their skin in places was stretched to its max, but it all felt like fluid, like you could pop a tap into it and it would just pour out.

On the other hand, I caught myself sitting with my foot tucked up under my leg more than once, a position I’ve been unable to sit in for at least 4 years.