I have come to the conclusion – based on empirical evidence, of course – that my default weight is around 100 lbs. Which sounds okay until you take into account the fact that I’m about five feet six inches tall – then 100 lbs teeters dangerously on the precipice of an eating disorder. My brother pointed out recently that I am now as thin as I was in college, which is to say, borderline anorexic.
I didn’t notice it until late last year, when my jeans started sagging over my hips and my pelvic bone (the subject of one memorable post – yes, I once devoted so much time and thought into the state of that particular part of my anatomy that I wrote an entire post about it) resurfaced. And I thought I was doing so well! At my heaviest, I tipped the scale at 113, so it came as a shock to realize that the skinny jeans I filled out reasonably well up until four months ago suddenly felt loose.
After a couple of weeks of differentials* I finally figured it out: breakfast. More specifically, not enough of it. For about six months last year, I’d foregone my regular breakfast (two, actually: one small meal at home, and a full one at the office) for junk food. Instant noodles, usually, or the occasional sandwich. At one point, I actually lost my appetite for rice, my absolute favorite food in the world – I, who under normal circumstances can shovel rice down my throat like a construction worker, was finding it difficult to finish one measly cup!
That was when I really
started to worry. So I’ve been taking my vitamins like a good girl and I’m happy to report that I am once again shoveling rice down my throat with the best of them, and going for seconds. I’ve also resumed my old habit of snacking in between meals and I’ve been trying to eat everything edible in sight, like a human vacuum cleaner. I suppose I could also start drinking beer for that charming beer belly effect, but we’ll see if I can do this without turning into a raging alcoholic.
My natural tendency, I think, is to lose weight. It took me about three years to gain those extra 13 lbs, so you can imagine how frustrating it is to have to gain it all back. My body’s weird, I know. Most people have to deprive themselves of nourishment to lose a few pounds; I subsist on a diet of junk for a few months and lose a stone.***House reference!
**for Krysty, because you would get the British thing
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So I'm watching the video for Silverchair's 'Straight Lines' and hot damn, Daniel Johns is quite a sight to behold. I don't normally like pretty boys but daaaaaaaamn, he looks like a scruffy angel, and I'm a sucker for scruff.
Wait...where was I? Oh right, the song. I've mentioned it here before but I think it bears repeating: I really, really, really love this song. I've been in a bit of a funk lately, physically and emotionally, and hearing 'Straight Lines' again actually made me smile. It came to me that I never seem to notice the extent of my depression - or melancholy - until I start to emerge from it, and it surprised me (although I suppose it shouldn't have) that all it took was a song to snap me back to reality.
When I first heard 'Straight Lines' two years ago, I didn't expect to like it this much. It has none of the angst that Silverchair used to be associated with; this one is actually pretty upbeat and - dare I say it? - happy. (I must admit that age and time have had a mellowing effect on me. While I am still given to rantage, I've found that the angry songs that were on constant rotation in my Discman, and then my iPod, now lack the visceral punch they used to have. Yup, I've been quarter-lived.) So here I am, watching Daniel Johns doing that god-awful dance and smiling like an idiot because hearing him belt out, "Set me on fire in the evening/Everything will be fine/Waking up strong in the morning/Walking in a straight line/Lately I'm a desperate believer/But walking in a straight line" actually makes me want to get up in the morning. Walking in a straight line.
There's a long way to go. But I've been hearing the word 'hope' bandied about a lot lately, and I don't suppose it would hurt to hold out just a little bit more.