Yesterday, I talked myself into keeping with this diet, although admittedly I had set my sights lower with a goal of 21 days instead of 30. Today, I quit.
What happened to last night's motivation? Where has my personal cheerleader gone? Good question. All I know is that this morning I woke up with an overwhelming sadness, and tears have been threatening a kamikaze mission all morning, even as I type this sentence. As I wrote in a text to my mom letting her know I had failed, that her constant support and encouragement could not overpower my failure instincts, "I handled the hunger, but I couldn't handle the sadness."
Of course, I used to handle this sadness all the time. Before I submitted to a daily dose of 75 mg of Sertraline (Zoloft), days like today were the norm. Sadness was always sneaking up on me, hiding behind a corner in wait, always nearby if not already present. But since I began using antidepressants, I thought this type of no-reason-for-it-but-still-can't-control-it sadness was a distant memory.
Admittedly, the diet wasn't easy. I was trying the HCG diet, a miracle diet or a controversial fad, depending on who you talk to. Drops of HCG under the tongue three times a day, and a diet of 500 calories which could only be made up by a handful of allowed foods. I have personally known several people who had great success on this diet. 20-30 pounds lost, no problem. "No hunger," many website posts exclaim, and "I've never had more energy!"
Not me. I've been hungry for the last 12 days. I have had little energy, and have to take a lot of naps. And now, the sadness.
Adding to the sadness is the knowledge that my goals -- losing weight before my cruise in a month -- are now in jeopardy. And I've let down people that believe in me. But at least I'm consistent, right?
