Category: Intuitive eating

“So, now, how would you describe your eating habits?” Doctor Zermati asked me a week ago.

– Hummmmm… I would say I’m more relaxed with food, some days I don’t even think of what I’m going to eat or of the therapy, I let my needs and wishes guide me. I even have the impression I can stop at the end of meal without reasoning just because I’ve had enough. Well, it’s not always the case, but it is nothing like it was before.

– Could we say it’s becoming natural?

– Yes, that’s it, basically, it’s becoming natural, I agreed. And, a few second later, always this nasty habit of opening my mouth too much, I added: “on the other hand, there is still one scenario in which I’m anxious, when I’m invited”. “Because of pre-dinner, I mean”.

– You’re afraid of drinking too much? (Worried face of a doctor who’s wondering if from slightly bulimic his patient became seriously alcoholic)

– Oh noooo, I reassured him immediately. Because of cashew nuts.

– Yeah, ‘cashew nut’, he said with a knowing look.

– No it’s very serious, I can’t stop. I think they put cocaine or something in it, it’s the only thing I can think of, I’m not myself in front of a bowl of cashew. And then, honestly, I don’t know what to do.

– At home, what do you do, then?

– At home? Simple, there aren’t any. I’m not crazy you know.

– Really? You love it but you don’t buy any? (Excessively astonished look of a therapist who wants to send a message). Then what do you serve for pre-dinner?

– Well… cherry tomatoes, possibly some cheese or raw carrots, or…

– And is it good? (Pointedly sceptical look of a therapist who wants me to say cherry tomatoes suck)

– Hum… yes, of course… (Girl who’s that close to crack)

– As good as cashew? (Therapist using the next gear, namely sarcasm)

– Of course no! (Patient falling feet first in the therapist’s trap)

– And people prefer cherry tomatoes to cashews? (Triumphing look of therapist who knows he just dealt the death blow)

– I doubt it but I don’t care, all I know is that at least I don’t fall in it head first. (And bang, get this Sigmund, unanswerable)

– Basically, you prefer serving everyone a pre-dinner that is less appreciated than what you could offer, only so that you don’t eat some, am I correct? And, if I may, do you eat what you put on the table anyway?

– Hum… yes, but it’s better than eating cashew or Pringles, isn’t it?

– …

Ok.

Zermati 1, Patient, 0.

This verbal fight thus ended up, you suppose so, with one of those exercise Zermati likes so much.

For four days, I’ll have to start my lunch with cashews, even – Doctor Z is magnanimous – a mix of these delicious little things and crisps, Pringles or Chipster. Basically same song as with chocolate. Except that now, if I’m hungry again after one hour, I must eat the same and nothing else. Besides, I must have a big enough quantity to have some left afterwards.

And the rest

I throw it away.

Every evening.

Why throwing away? Because according to doc, keeping eating when you are not hungry anymore is nothing more nothing less than considering your stomach as a bin. Or even as a recycling center. He isn’t in favour of wasting but he doesn’t see how throwing rests away is more of a waste than swallowing it when you’re unable to stick it anymore and it will thus do you no good.

In short, here I am, forced to eat cashew four days in a row. What a pain.

Let me point out that contrary to what you could think, the goal is not to put me off cashews for life. The objective is, I believe, to make me discover after what quantity of cashews I don’t enjoying it anymore.

Not sure, it’ll sort completely my issue with pre-dinner, which is also linked, I think, with the sort of anxiety I feel at the beginning of an evening with friends, I don’t know, fear that we don’t get along, that we get bored, that I don’t say things I should, etc etc etc. But never mind, I’ve decided to trust my therapist, thus inch’allah and cashew nuts here I come. Damn it.

This is an informative message, which explains the lack of image with it. Ok, mainly I didn’t have any idea to illustrate it.

As I receive a lot of requests by email or in the comments on how to get information on Zermati’s or Apfeldorfer’s guidelines, I wanted to give you the GROS’ web site, the network created, amongst others, by these two doctors.

You’ll find there plenty information on their method – if we can call it this way – and by writing to the email address given on the site you can get a list of health professionals with the same obedience. I think also by calling Zermati’s secretariat – in the Yellow Pages – you can get some numbers.

I’m often being asked for the price of a consultation and refund possibilities. I said it already but it’s 100 Euros per consultation, with one appointment every two weeks. In my case, I get refunded, as my GP asked for an eating disorder specific care. Now I’m not sure it will work for everyone, but I think so. I have an extra medical aid so personally I can manage. But it’s obviously an investment and you have to pay in advance, thus I agree it’s not within all budgets’ reach.

Here you go, that’s it for today, you’ll excuse the terse aspect of this article but as Helmut loves running jokes, she’s playing the stomach bug sketch again. For the past two day, I think no place in the house hasn’t been sprayed with vomit. Couch and carpet included. I even walked around the whole day with shoes stud with regurgitated milk, maintaining, with typical maternal bad faith, that, really, snow and salt do damage the shoes, damn it.

In short, I imaging that it will be my turn on Saturday to make sure I’m in perfect shape on Monday to start over the week and deal with the olders’ puke as their immune system is equivalent to a fly’s, may I remind you.

Maternity is a rose paved path.

(1) : TN: French research group on obesity and overweight, this association groups health professionals who deal with people struggling with their weight or eating behavior.

The first nutritionist I saw when I was 15 warned me straight away: “You’ll have to watch what you eat all your life, that’s it, don’t believe this diet will last two months only. If you then start eating any old how again, you’ll gain all your weight again.”

Verdict had been given, in terms of diet, I got life sentence.

Years passed, all health professionals told me the same. “You’ll have to WATCH what you eat all the time”

Watching what I eat.

I think I’ve said these words more than ten thousand times. “It’s fine, I manage to stay stable, I’m watching what I eat”. “If I watch what I eat, kilos don’t come back”. “Gosh, I’ve put on weight again, I must absolutely watch what I eat”.

Obviously, the negative variant works too “I haven’t really watched what I’ve been eating lately, my weight is a total mess”. Etc.

It took my meeting with doctor Zermati to understand that actually, watching what you eat is bad. It’s permanent control, the feeling of being imprisoned in healthy food constraints that systematically unleashed my compulsions as soon as I lower my guard.

With this therapy, for the first time I don’t feel this unlimited conviction, I don’t wait for the “end” of the diet, I don’t ask myself the fateful question of “stabilisation”.

Very simply because there won’t be any stabilisation. For the simple and good reason that there’s no diet.

I’m often being asked lately, here or in real life[1], how I will manage “after”.

I answer that there is no after. There is, overtime, I hope, my now at ease food way of live rendered banal.

Ok, put like this it sounds like Frédéric Lefebvre[2].

But I’m as categorical as I can be, I can live the years I have left with these eating habits. It has never been the case in my previous experiences, during which, pick and choose, I weighted each bread slice, cooked for breakfast so called proteins packed pancakes with a subtle taste of Smecta, or 40g of green beans, not one more, enlivened with half a tea spoon of rapeseed oil. Yummy.

This year, I’ve spent festive season enjoying foie gras, smoked salmon, chocolate and chestnut fondant, one of the things I prefer in this world. I’ve also happily skipped several lunches or dinners, without forcing myself, simply because my belly was full. Result: for the first time of my life1, I’ve lost one kilo and even a bit more during the past two weeks.

So yes, I can continue forever, because nothing will ever be forbidden anymore and I haven’t said the now banned sentence: “No thanks, I’m watching what I eat”

On the other hand, to my biggest surprise, I have refused several times truffles, chocolates and other sweets because no thank you, I’m not hungry anymore. And it’s my last word.

Edit: These sweets were sold during the Grand Palais funfair, and I haven’t even been tempted. Amazing.

A promise is a promise, here are some pieces of advice gleaned during my last session with doctor Zermati, three days away from Christmas and all kind of looming banquets.

Wait, I say “advice” but don’t expect readymade solutions or magic tricks to “celebrate without putting on weight” or even “lose three kilos before festive season”. You have understood, that’s not how I do things, even less doctor Z.

Nevertheless on Monday, when we were reviewing – after one month without any appointment, thanks to imponderables that made me cancel twice – my food way of life[1], I confided to Mr. Z. my apprehension of the year end, synonymous of gorging.

— How will I manage to stop when I’m not hungry anymore? At home, usually, it’s fine, I more or less manage, I leave the table when I feel I’ve had my fill and no one asks me questions. But in a more festive context, it seems impossible to me.

— Actually, it is impossible. No one respects his or her hunger during this kind of occasion. You, not more than anybody else, rest assured. You must be realistic, most of the time, during Christmas Eve, you are full at the end of the aperitif. No one is still hungry when the turkey comes, after eating foie gras, salmon and oysters. However, no one usually leaves the table before the end. And you don’t want to do this, you’ll end up not being invited anywhere!

— Yes but then it means I’ll put on weight?

— Absolutely. Like the majority of invitees. Everyone put on one or two kilo during this period.

— Except that I usually put on twice as much and, guess what, I have a tendency to make them bear fruit. If Stock Exchange were as sure as my year end weight gain, Lehmann Brothers would still be with us.

— Not this year you’ll see.

— Barring a jump in the space-time and skipping the next week, I don’t see how.

— How? Simply by trusting re-gu-la-tion. Namely the days after Christmas Eve, you’ll listen to your hunger and without even realising it you’ll eat less, to compensate the overflow. But pay attention, it won’t happen over one day like for babies who can skip dinner if their snack was too copious. The older you grow, the more time is needed for regulation. As a result, don’t weight yourself the day after Christmas, unless you’re masochist. Wait for one week and you’ll see, everything will be fine.

— So I eat what I want, I don’t feel guilty and I won’t even put on weight?

— Basically … yes.

— But still, don’t you have one or two tricks which could help me limit the damage, like a spoon of oil before the meal or an apple around 17h to get there without being hungry and thus avoid grabbing everything in front of me?

— Actually, it’s typically the kind of things you don’t want to do. When you’re about to eat your favorite dishes, it’s absurd to get there without being hungry, since, may I remind you, you don’t put on weight when you are hungry. So avoid having a snack just before.  Then, it could be useful to have an idea of the menu, so that you don’t gorge on foie gras when it’s actually just pre-dinner. The best is to make your hunger last as long as possible, it’s the principle of the sentence: “I’m keeping space for dessert”.

— So basically your two recommendations are: 1) Be hungry, 2) get insight on the menu in order to make your hunger last?

— You’re forgetting 3)

— Which is?

— Take pleasure and eat without guilt. Because you know what is gained today will be lost afterwards.

— Amen.

Well, Ok, this dialogue is slightly revised, but these three pieces of advice are authentic. And it’s buoyed by my loss of 8 kilos in three months and an half of zermating that I assure you one thing, it seems to be the good words. I add a 4) pay even more attention to taste during this festive season. Take time to enjoy the first bites, focus on flavors, try to compare two different smoked salmons, two foie gras or two oysters. Grasp the meal as a gustatory experience and not as orgy making you feel guilty.

Personally, I find the program rather…mouth watering.

Isn’t it?

With this, I wish you an amazing and tasteful festive season…

Edit: This session has been rich on several accounts, I will tell you in a future article, it’s now time for holidays…

Edit2: Yesterday we were talking about “Christmas” movies, “La Bûche[2]” is part of my classical list, not a master piece, but for sure a Christmas movie…

Living with it or being at ease with yourself.

These are the words that often come back when I mention my approach with doctor Zermati, here and there. “Why do you want to lose weight you always said you lived with it?”, “There’s dishonesty, you’ve claimed for years on your blog that you were living with it and here you are on a diet?”. “So curvy girls are not at ease with themselves, that’s it?”. “Are there happy fat girls who are at ease with themselves?”

More generally, it’s a term we can read everywhere, in more or less serious magazines: “live with your figure”, “how to embrace your curves”, and so on and so forth.

I can’t answer in the name of all overweight girls, only as far as I’m concerned.

Let’s be clear, yes I’m at ease with myself. Because according to me, being at ease with yourself means living your life, despite kilos, allowing yourself to be happy, not being ashamed, going to the beach, showing yourself half naked, making love, pampering yourself before going out.

Being at easy with yourself, it’s accepting yourself inside and outside. In other words, I claim the right to be fat without having to suffer teasing, snap judgments and cheap advices on cholesterol which will end up biting my head off. I yell loud and clear that Big Beauty and consort have as much legitimacy as Punky and her friends taking pictures of themselves and playing top model on the web.

But.

It doesn’t mean I’d rather not be slim.

Neither does it mean I was living well with the kilos that had piled up lately, thanks to my pregnancy, baby blues, approaching 40s and a deviant food behavior.

Thus, this picking up of the issue.

I think we are dying, in this society, from wanting to stick people in categories. Proud curvy girls can’t become slim, math brains can’t feel like going to a history class, French people must feel exclusively French and be able to define themselves according to precise criteria during stupid debates, and so on.

If life was that simple, we’d know. You can, for years, sincerely think that you accommodate very well yourself to some physical or character traits. And then finally realize one morning that this weight you’ve been carrying is not only the fruit of your ill imagination. That luggage, you want to put it down and even empty it.

That’s what happened to me – and not only once, alas it’s not my first attempt – in September. That’s what took my hand and brought me to knock on Doctor Z.’s door.

Maybe this weight loss will be durable, maybe not, I’ve had too many relapses to have certainties today. What I know is no I won’t have to change this blog’s name since even with 10 kilos less I won’t enter the slim category. Even with 20 less, which is absolutely not the objective – as there’s no objective – I will never forget the curvy girl who lives in my body since I’m old enough to remember who I am.

That’s it, I don’t know if it’s clear. I haven’t felt attacked, I understand the questions I’ve read here and there and my kin’s reluctances. I thus try to answer with as much honesty as possible. Yes, if I were given a magic wand I would chose a size 10. But no, I don’t believe being slim is the key to happiness, just a facilitator in a society where appearance matters more and more. I wouldn’t be happy, I know it, if I kept putting on weight, because it’s more complicated in the everyday life, because it’s too demoralizing to know from the moment you wake up that you’ll make a ladder in your tights by dint of pulling it, to have to lie down to zip your jeans – which you’ll undo as soon as you’re seated -, to change your top three times before finding one that hides without looking like a bag and finally all this to hate the image you’ll see in the first mirror you’ll pass.

I sincerely believe the ones who say they are at peace with their body despite a huge BMI. It happens that it’s not my case. But no, I haven’t misled anyone, because it seems to me all this came to light from the first articles of this blog. And once and for all, you can be at ease with yourself while wishing to change…

Edit: I wanted to put the picture of the beautiful Spanish woman on the beach but I remembered it gave rise to arguments about image rights. Thus here is, once again, my cleavage, with which I’m at ease.

So what about those four days eating chocolate?

Hell.

Nah, I’m kidding I loved it.

Might be that it was not really the objective, but I have to confess that around 11h, knowing that my slab of Milka was awaiting… wasn’t worrying me, if I might use a euphemism.

However, however, how-e-ver.

I’ve never finished the said slab. And not because I was holding myself back. Just because, after half of it, frankly, it was really losing its appeal. Especially knowing 1) I would  have some the next day, 2) two hours later, in case of munchies, I could have a light meal.

As a result, I had a small bread on the first day, a mandarin on the second and a slice of ham on the third as a snack.

There was no fourth one because it was on the same day as a business lunch and I feel not everybody is ready to receive the Zermatian message. In other words, I have a reputation for being an oddball at work, I prefer keeping my experiments for myself, there is such a thing as too much eccentricity in the eyes of my colleagues.

Thus, I slightly distorted the exercise in my opinion, but proof that I’ve had my fill of Milka, since then, no piece has fallen in my stomach and I haven’t missed it at all.

Ok, I slightly moved on to a competitive stomach bug.

But still. Let me remind you that in London there are Cadbury at every corner and I didn’t even think of bringing some back.

And on the scale, what the result?

Almost one kilo less, I would say roughly (I don’t have those scales that give you not only your weight in micrograms but also your body fat percentage, your thigh size and your star sign) 800 grams

Sign, thus, that you can slim down while eating chocolate. That is, as far as I am concerned, the best news from the past ten years. Next to it, discovering temperate lakes on Mars seems to me a vacuity.

In short, that’s it, I progress little by little on a totally new path for me and I admit taking a lot of pleasure in it. I’ve lost almost seven kilos, it means in concrete terms that I’m losing my pants a bit, that heels are less hard to bear during a whole day, that my bras don’t give me the impression anymore that I have breasts in the back too, that I wear a stripped jersey – JPG please – which was a gift ten year ago but was more like a brassiere lately and that I’m that close to zipping  a Comptoir Des Cotonniers pants bought without trying it on, on a pure madness day in 1998 more or less (a size 16 that was lost in the shop and I couldn’t leave it behind, too cruel, poor thing others kept making fun of it). What’s nice actually it that this brand always has the same collection each year, almost, so it is roughly identical to the ones you see in their windows today.

I don’t feel happier with 7 kilos less, I’m still in the 7 something, men are not falling for me in the street, mine looks at me with appetite but it was already the case two months ago. On the other hand, I feel better physically, my knee cracks less when I climb stairs and I’m less out of breath when I walk. In bed, it has changed as well, let’s say that the warning light that usually blinks when he reaches the zone between below my breast and my pubis – “stoooooop, don’t touch my belly” – is now mysteriously switched off. And this, this feels great.

Edit: I’m not putting this picture for you tell me I’ve slimmed down, it’s just that sometimes I don’t really know how to illustrate an article, the chocolate slab is now boring and I like this stripped jersey, it’s one of my test clothe, you see.

Edit2: I don’t mean to say that I don’t like being told I’ve slimmed down, like all women it fills me up with happiness inside.

Edit3: Actually, you say what you want, right.

Edit4: the picture was taken with timer, camera sitting on a shelf, it was dark outside. It thus has reasons for being as it is, spare it.

Yesterday was my first “chocolate” day. Verdict? Knowing I could eat the whole slab radically pacified me. I respected Zermati’s instructions, namely tasting each piece, while taking the time to sit at a table. Well, as I was in a bar, I didn’t go as far as putting the whole slab in a plate as recommended. But I ordered a tea and I really thought of what I was doing, namely eating Milka – I know[1], it’s not the best for purists but I have a big soft spot for the blue cow – completely legally.

At the end of the first bar, light nausea, but not full. The second bar was less good, but still, this ‘taste of wishful come-back’ which we, sweet teeth, all have. Thus, bang, third bar. Plus two pieces for the road.

Result: half of the slab for my meal.

And huge thirst to get rid of this syrupy sensation in the back of my throat, this sugar overdose that irritate tonsils so bad it makes you cough.

Around 17h, I felt slightly hungry, one of my colleague, as thin as a rake and addicted to Swiss breads – an insult to healthy food – brought me a small muesli bread, I indeed wanted only something savory.

In the evening, a good slice of home-made spinach quiche and a piece of cheese on bread and off you go.

What do I retain from this?

That half a slab stayed in my bag for half a day and I didn’t even think of nibbling a piece. I who usually can’t help myself when any product made of more than 2% cocoa is within 1km distance, I FORGOT it was in my Marc Jacobs.

Yeah, I have a Marc Jacobs, I know, it sounds very blond slut to show off but I held onto it for 10 months before sharing my joy here, since it’s my Christmas present from 2008. Furthermore, it’s purple.

However, I’m not going to tell what’s in my Marc Jacobs, because even if I know you must always mismatch a luxury piece to be trendy without ostentation, I’m well aware that there is such a thing as too much mismatch. And no one advises to have, in your Marc Jacob, a dummy, wipes, dried milk from a bottle carried without its cap, mints breeding since six month at the bottom and so on.

End of the aside, today is my second chocolate day. That said, I have doubt as for the possibility to go on in unfazed conditions. No I mention it just like that but after Helmut vomiting 37 times during the bus trip Chatelet – Maison Blanche on Sunday, it’s Darling who has covered her wall for the whole night. According to my calculations, Thingy should barf on his teacher around 16h. The man is planned for Wednesday. As for me, with my crappy karma, I bet on the rear of the pack, on Friday, one or two hours before boarding to London.

Hey, didn’t I tell you? Next week-end, we are going to London for two days with my dear husband, Zaz and her tall Frédé.

Edit: I must be the only blogger going to London without being invited and thus paying for Eurostar and hotel nights. That takes nothing away from my excitement… to sleep for two night without hearing Helmut crying for her 5a.m. bottle. Actually, Cergy Pontoise would maybe have done the trick.

Edit 2: No, Helmut doesn’t sleep through the nights. Well, she did, I think. For about three weeks. She tries to beat a record I guess.

Edit 3: I have a feeling all this is disjointed, isn’t it?

Edit 4: Ok I have a Marc Jacobs AND I’m going to London, which make a detestable girl of me. But since one month all my family members have flu and stomach bug, it makes up for it, doesn’t it?

Edit 5: When I think I didn’t know what to write today.

Edit 6: Ok, I’m showing the inside of my bag, it’s a therapy. Shame inside me is supposed to help me fight my messiness.

Edit 7: It’s also to show the lining I love with luv. Green panther. From anyone else than Marc it’s kind of slutty. And there… it isn’t. Or maybe it is.

— There are some people who can eat cake as a snack simply to content their sweet tooth or because they need comfort and they don’t put on weight.

— It’s too unfair I get one extra bra size simply by looking at the cream puff.

— Eh. Why, in your opinion, some don’t put on weight even if they snack and some do?

— Hum… Because bitch mother nature?

— There we go, you are victim of a genetic conspiracy, maybe you even are Martian, aren’t you?

— You can laugh, it’s all fun and games. All I know is that all I eat makes me put on weight. When my friend Béa, for example, she has always been able to eat her own weight in chocolate and nothing moves. So if that’s not a proof, I’m willing to eat my bag.

This cordial and relaxed exchange happened during my last appointment, last Thursday, with mister Zermati. Who finally gave me the explanation for this scandal of which some of us are victims.

Why some can eat plenty pastries without any collateral damages and some others put on weight with a fat free yogurt?

Well simply because, those persons who don’t put on weight despite a good snack are regulated. Mister Z. means that those blessed people are actually capable of skipping a meal with no problem, simply because they are not hungry, because they had an apple tart 3 hours earlier. The others, the ones who systematically swell, are the ones who will have the apple tart but won’t, under no circumstances, boycott the next lunch or dinner. You never know, in case war starts the next day, right.

Result being a huge difference on the scale.

Why this discussion? Because I was explaining to doctor Z that, lately, with these painful times and the somehow tense atmosphere at home afterwards, I have a few sweet-chocolate cravings. But, I mentioned proudly, I just baked madeleines and ate only a few.

I was expected to be congratulated, I was disappointed.

– Control is not what we are after. You won’t keep up in the long run. Why do we eat, according to you? Because of our physiological needs, of course. But also for the pleasure it gives us. Because chemically, sometimes, it helps restore balance in the brain. Then yes, you can, from time to time, tell yourself:  “life is crap, luckily there are chocolate éclairs”.

Thus my remark on the fact that I pay too expensive a price for deviations to allow myself some. And thus the dialogue I have reported above.

“When you really want a cake outside of meal hours, you must first stop for two minutes on the reason of this craving. If there is a different solution from food comfort, you might as well consider it. Then, if you really feel it’s a need, you can indulge. Being fully aware of what you’re doing. Choosing the right cake, because it might as well be perfect. Then you sit down, you look at it, and you s.a.v.o.r it. In general, the mere fact of concentrating on this moment of pleasure, to assess it, enable to be full sooner. Mainly, being aware of what you are doing means it is under control and not an urge”, he added afterwards.

Isn’t it great, knowing you can succumb without worrying yourself sick afterwards?

I was telling him, on the other hand, satiety remains my biggest problem now that hunger and I are hand in hand. So he gave me another exercise.

And believe me, that one rocks.

For four days, I must start my lunch with…

Maximum 100g of chocolate, milk or dark.

A slab, basically. Knowing that if I’m not hungry anymore after half the slab, I leave the rest. And I must wait for half an hour before eating something else. If I’m hungry, obviously. Why a snack one hour later? Because if I know I can’t have anything else before dinner, I will tend to finish the slab by fear of being hungry. While if I know I can eat in the afternoon, it will change the way I’ll enjoy the chocolate.

The goal of the exercise, apparently, is to notice that you can get rid of a chocolate craving rather quickly. And eating some everyday is probably the best way to stop the longing. According to doctor Z, the exercise ends in weight loss systematically. He even asked me to weight myself for the first time before and after the four days to check.

“If there’s no weight loss, or even gain, it will mean you have a hang-up. And it will be important information too “.

That’s it, basically, for that session, well, other things were told and heard but I keep them for myself.

Come on, have a great Monday, I’m off to buy some Milka.

I’ve been seeing this good doctor Zermati for two months. I haven’t had any other session since the one with the raisin, the last one had been canceled because of the GROS’ congress, an association created by Apfeldorfer and Zermati.

After eight weeks of therapy, here is a status.

– My crappy scale which always under-weight displays five kilos less. I have no idea of my real weight, but I don’t care, I know though that I’ve slimmed down, my clothes are a good indicator.

– Since a few days, people tell me spontaneously that I’ve slimmed down. What’s funny is that I haven’t lost much more than two or three weeks ago, but strangely, it’s more obvious. As it if a certain amount of time was required for your body to readapt its own contours.

– I don’t feel like I’m on a diet. Although, I eat less, it’s obvious. There’s no magic, it would be too simple if going to see a doctor was enough to slim down. As brilliant as the doctor might be.

– I manage to eat when I’m hungry, however I’m still not really connected to satiety.

– I handle very well “normal” everyday life, business lunches or endless dinner with friends are a bit tougher. I’m still very fragile in front of a bowl of sour cream and onion Pringles.

– I don’t feel obsessed by this therapy. I mean that, in general, when I stop smoking or start a new kind of diet, I want to talk about it, sometimes until people make me understand that yeah right I’m nice but… Now, if I’m been asked questions I will answer, but it’s rarely me who broaches the subject. I think it’s rather positive.

– I’m struggling a bit with “mindfulness” exercises which involve focusing, for a few minutes, on breathing or on the first bite of food. Basically, being aware of the present moment, without actually forbidding interferences, but attempting to come back each time to the focus subject. Doctor Z. always says “it’s not about trying to change your state, simply observe things and feel them”. It requires stopping life flow for a few moments and it’s not that easy. That said, lately, in the evening, in the tramway, I close my eyes and give it a try. It’s amazing how it helps getting your head straight. Like realizing the unpleasant words from this colleague don’t really deserve me getting all worked up.

– I’m under the impression that indeed I’ve slimmed down but something else is happening. My ultra-emotionalism for example that handicaps me rather seriously – my eyes get wet for any old reasons, all the more if a) I get a bit of attention, b) someone reproaches me, c) I try to get stuffs off my chest – seems to be more channeled. As if I were taking control again. The journey is long before the end of anxiety, but I don’t know, I feel… more self-confident. I mainly feel that the big cloud which was hiding my sun for the past months could really end up vanishing.

– I smoke again. It’s, I think, a negative point as if I were not able to stop a compulsion without starting all over again with another. That said, I had started again before therapy, but let say it didn’t make things better. In my opinion, when I was little, I missed something in oral stage. At the same time, I could as well have stayed stuck in anal stage, eh.

– I buy tones of clothes, my bank account melts faster than my butt’s fat.

– My socks are looser on my calves.

– My bras are less tight too.

– I don’t have heartburn anymore, probably because I eat less.

– I’m down by one size, I can now fit in a 44[1], even if it’s still slightly tight.

– My knees hurt less.

– Last time, I was carrying a pack of 5 liters of milk to the trolley, I found it was heavy. I realized that until not so long ago, I was continuously lifting those bottles. It’s normal that I feel lighter.

That’s it, may I add that I have no illusions, I don’t feel like I’ve signed a permanent contract with weight loss. I have to understand why eating is not yet harmless and instinctive. I need to learn to stop when I’ve had my fill. But well, I tell myself I’m on the right path with the right person.

Edit: Picture taken last summer on the beach, the cloud looked like a gaseous Pikachu and, when it vanished, it was rather incredible, this sensation of found again light…

Friday was my Zermati day. Fourth appointment and not the least interesting.

We first discussed this experiment around the three hungers, small, medium and big. I shared my observations and conclusion:  before it’s time it’s too early but when the moment is passed, it’s passed. Answer from the doc: “we suspected that the medium hunger was the best, the important part is to now have the proof”

Afterwards we talked about the breathing question, and then, I admitted that if my body and I we start to be on the same wavelength with hunger, especially the right one, the one that makes you eat with pleasure but without stuffing yourself, on the other hand the “mindfulness” moments as he calls them, meh.

Basically, I couldn’t find the time. Unless I was lacking willpower. In fact, anyway, I must have done the exercise maximum twice without really feeling any benefit.

“It’s fine”, doctor Z reassured me, “You must know that mindfulness is the most difficult. It will take time for you to get there”

This is what I appreciate the most with this doctor. There are no reproach, no goals to reach, no weight control at each appointment. I was so used to remonstrance or reward sessions (in my opinion it’s the same actually) with previous nutritionists that I can’t get over the fact that I’m not in a perpetual exam taking mode anymore. It’s not about progression or successfully overcoming each stage otherwise you put on weight again immediately. And it’s, in my opinion, the central point of this therapy.  No figure to reach, no slimness promises, no speech on willpower or control, not forbidden food, no more or less 60 grams of bread per day. No red or yellow points, no nutrition lessons nor theories on proteins which make you lose fat but gain muscle.

Back to our subject.

So, for the breathing, I’ll have to persevere. Actually, we’ll put it aside to focus on a similar exercise which is savoring. To explain it to me the doctor asked me to close my eyes and relax. Then he put in my hand a small foodstuff of which I could appreciate the touch, then the sound it made when I rolled it in my hand, then the smell. Afterwards I could bring what proved to be a raisin to my mouth, roll it around my tongue and finally cut it with my teeth, extract its pulp to end up chewing and swallowing it.

All this without opening my eyes and trying to concentrate only on my olfactory, auditive and gustatory sensations.

“So, what happened?” asked doctor Z once the tiny raisin was eaten.

What happened? I wouldn’t really be able to explain it, an explosion of taste in my month which I couldn’t have felt if I hadn’t been so focused on it. The impression of having eaten more than only one raisin. The pleasure of pulp acidity on my taste buds.

That’s it, for the next two weeks the watchword is try to start each meal with three minutes of minduflness. It can be also during coffee, pay attention to the cup’s temperature, the drink’s exhalation, the warmth of the first sip. Let me tell you it’s not that easy. But for sure it saves you from rushing to food and triggers a process of salivation and savoring.

Otherwise, except this, I mentioned my difficulty to identify satiety, my tendency to stop ‘because I must’ rather than because I’m not hungry anymore. He confirmed that ‘because I must’ is no good because of control which is not perennial. But for now it’s fine too, we are not there yet, we haven’t started the work on emotions, everything in its own time. I’ve also asked if skipping diner after a big business lunch was a good or a bad thing. He answered that eating must be seeing like charging your phone. “Does charging your phone when its battery is not empty come to your mind? No. You usually wait for the indicator to blink. Your indicator is hunger. If don’t feel any symptoms, you don’t need to eat. Duly noted.”

That’s all for now.