Weighing heavy

My weight is weighing heavy on my mind at the moment. Over the past year I have struggled to gain control over my eating and drinking habit. I have managed to lose over two stone and, as a result I felt fantastic. Note the past tense. I no longer feel fantastic because, over the last few months, my weight has slowly but surely been going up. I’m aware of it. I’m fed up with it. But can I do anything about it? Apparently not.

Tonight it is the moment of truth, after two weeks of non WW attendance (owing to W.imbledon and a date with T.ake That) I am returning to the scales. I’m hoping that the shock of just how much I have put on will knock some sense into me and get me back on track. I know that it is going to be bad because the clothes that I used to feel comfortable in are no longer comfortable. I have no energy, I’m constantly thinking about food and I am fed up that I am letting this control me. I have lost control of the one thing that I can control.

As I hate the NHS and our PCT at the moment I am going to blame this lack of control on them. Talking of my PCT, I finally got round to making that call to them. The call was to set a date by which they have to reply, in writing, to my complaint. I found it a bit bizarre but we agreed a date. So I should have a letter from my PCT by the 14 July telling me what their policy on IVF funding is. How weird is that. I write them a letter and because I don’t give them my phone number they write me a letter asking me to phone them. I phone them and they tell me that they will respond within a certain timeline. Talk about making a mountain out of a mole hill.