Sponsored by
Walking in the rain
Lizzie Grimaldi weighs 5st 11lbs and in a last ditch attempt to gain weight is doing a sponsored weight gain in aid of Hospice of St Francis.
She aims to put on a stone and a half in a year.
Each week Lizzie posts part of her diary describing how she is finding the challenge.
To sponsor Lizzie visit www.justgiving.com/lizziegrimaldi.
Diary entry: 19th January
I feel really low. Don't know why. I can't blame it on lack of food either. I just feel deflated. Flat. I also feel really sick. I tried to drink some Clinutren last night and I think that is what has caused it. I did manage breakfast but the thought of lunch is turning my stomach. Helped Hannah tidy her studio to take my mind off things and then went for a walk in the rain. There is definitely an air of inspissated gloom hanging over today - it hasn't even got light yet. Please tell me things will get better. Or perhaps I should just try to enjoy being sad la Rubinstein.
What a hideous day. Almost turned against Hannah and was unnecessarily and inexcusably rude to her - and instantly regretted it. But I just needed to lash out and she had the bad fortune to be here. Why do I want to fight everyone who tries to help me? I want to run away but I can't. I've got to get through this. No-one said it was going to be easy but I have to keep reminding myself that it would be a hell of a lot harder in hospital. I have to remind myself just how bad it was in the Priory - how stuffed and sick and fat I felt. At least here the food is healthy and washed down with a nice Pinot Noir. Can't bring myself to write anything else even though I probably should. Please go away now, I've had enough.
I feel like a real s***. I just need to be on my own tonight. I should be having Hannah over for dinner but have had to ask her to 'give me my space' and leave me alone. How can I be horrid to her when she is doing so much for me? Actually she probably sees it as a blessed relief - can't think of much worse than spending the evening with me. Shame I've got to. I know everything she is telling me is right - that we are running out of time and I have to start taking the Clinutren now. It just feels too much. I haven't had time to get used to eating so much yet and she is trying to introduce build-up drinks already. I need to see the results of eating more first - I think she is going to be surprised how quickly I gain weight.
I've realised this Clinutren thing is having an adverse effect on this. I'm getting myself in a state unnecessarily. I'm not going to start taking it yet and just get on with the matter in hand - eating proper food normally. There. Phew.
Struggled big time with dinner despite not having the threat of Clinutren, but I got there in the end. This will get easier, I'll start to feel hungry again, start to enjoy food. It will become less of an 'issue', less of a big deal. I need to peel away and discard all the crap that I have swaddled eating in. It's not that hard so stop making it.
Diary entry: 17th January
Scary. I couldn't write anything this morning because a) I couldn't remember where I'd left the pen and b) I couldn't bring myself to write in any other colour. Anyway, as you can see, I found it (same place as I'd left my marbles) so I'd better write something.
I seem to have hit a bit of a brick wall capacity-wise. I need to find something to take my mind off how full I feel. Why can't I digest things better? I suppose it'll take time - I need to retrain my system to accept more food. I just want to keep brushing my teeth to take the taste away. I guess I might have a wheat intolerance (let's face it, I've got a food intolerance) but I'm going to have to put up with it (unless I fancy going down the wheat-free, gluten-free, taste-free route). I can't believe Cotswold House would indulge allergies. 3 dislikes was all we were allowed. Let me see now... 1) food 2) food 3) food. The sword of Clinutren hovering over me is not aiding digestion either - Hannah is insisting I have one today but I'm not ready. I'm still getting used to the extra meals.
.
I needed to get away from things, so I treated myself to a massage at Daylesford which, despite being the embodiment of everything I hate about pseudo-country living, does give amazingly good treatments. I have got to make sure I nourish myself in other ways than just with food. Look after myself and do things that I like doing. On the way back from being pummelled to within an inch of my life, the man from the Telegraph rang - apparently the story is due to go in on Monday. He thinks it is "heart-breaking" which makes me feel like a very sad little person.
.
Went out for dinner with Hannah, Dorcas & Nikky which was a first. Hannah was understandably slightly cautious and established that I didn't need my hand held throughout. I had to try to reassure her - after all, eating out is as "normal" for Barry and me as eating in. And in some ways, eating out is easier - after all I don't have to think about making it or portioning it (or washing up). Anyway, it was fine although I did feel (or imagine) her eyes on me which made half of me want to keep ploughing on, and the other half stop. Afterwards she told me she thought it had gone well. Not really - not compared to how it could have gone. But the first time doing anything is going to be slightly awkward - after all, they have no idea how much I normally eat in the evening. I think they might be surprised by what I do manage. Perhaps they think I don't have anything. But if I didn't I would be in hospital already.
I found myself torn between showing them how much I am used to and how well I am doing - and risk them thinking what? That I'm a pig? That I'm not that bad after all? - and showing them how much I am struggling. Why? They know already, I don't need to prove anything to anyone. It doesn't change the situation - however much I 'm eating, it is evidently not enough. I don't need anyone's affirmation that I did well - I know I didn't. And for that I feel crap. So what am I going to do about it? The Clinutren are still sitting in the windowsill. Haven't made it as far as the fridge yet. I wonder if I could mix it with vodka. A Clinutren Wallbanger. Mmm, maybe they're not so bad after all.
I'm not sure how to cope with this weekend. I don't want to prevent Barry from coming home, yet equally I can't risk him upsetting the routine. Nor can I expect him to have thought about perhaps taking charge of the meals this weekend. It is only in the short-term. Yes, I know he has been working his socks off all week but if I'd just had a cataract operation, he wouldn't expect me to do the driving and I'm sure he wouldn't expect me to carry on as normal if I had cancer. But somehow this illness doesn't generate the same kind of sympathy. It is still regarded as self-inflicted by many people (myself included). It's my own fault and all I have to do to get better is eat. Even Mim believes that is true - only the other day she said that it is not as if I've got cancer, after all the cure (i.e. food) exists so why don't I just take the medicine. Exactly. Why don't I? It is so simple on paper. Black and white. Cause and effect. Extra calories in = weight gained = money for the hospice and a happier, healthier Lizzie. Keep taking the medicine. Unfortunately I need to increase the dose. Still, it's lunchtime. Great. God I'm starving, seems like ages since breakfast, I could eat a horse (keep going, you might convince yourself).
Diary entry: 16th January
I don't like the physical repercussions of this. I feel like someone is squeezing my heart - my chest feels so tight. I'm sure Barry would tell me not to be so dramatic and that it is only anxiety but I'm not convinced - I don't actually feel that anxious. I'm also worried about my brain function and concentration - I just don't feel I am firing on all cylinders all the time. Over lunch today, Hannah broached the subject of "plonk". Whatever it's called doesn't change the fact that I have built up a huge psychological barrier. Why? It is a concentrated, easily take in-able form of calories that can be excised from my diet once it has served its purpose. It will be the reason why I have gained weight as opposed to the speculation that perhaps the extra sandwich/cheese/biscuit/chocolate was the culprit. If I don't try it I'll never know.
I can definitely feel my resolve is strengthening. I am starting to want to do things for myself. And I am resigned to the fact that I am not going to feel hungry at mealtimes, but I will still have to eat them. Shared bathrooms. Black hairs. Not a pleasant thought.
Diary entry: 15th January
Didn't do as well as I had hoped, but not as badly as I had feared. Too many behaviours raised their ugly heads. How am I going to nail this? I know it won't just just go away but it is very hard when you are simply not hungry, to make yourself eat when your whole being doesn't want to. And then, when you've managed to finish your "main course" to even contemplate dessert. How can I be expected to be able to make a sound judgement as to whether what I have just had is enough? I know Simon would do a stop thinking you are so important moment, but actually, this is important. And I'm doing it and finding my way. Yes, I'll make mistakes, need my hand held and require constant reassurance, but I'm going to give it my best shot.
Diary entry: 15th January
First things first - wait for it - a gain! Yes, the enormous increase of 0.1kg. A massive 100g. Equivalent to 0.2lb or 3.4oz. Not very impressive really. It is time for a change and I think I started to do that last night. I was surprised to find that I was no more and no less "hungry" for breakfast this morning (although admittedly it was 10.30 by the time I'd been weighted and discussed Clinutren flavours with Stephanie - I've plumped (sorry) for orange, grapefruit and vanilla even though milk is gag-worthy). I don't know how I will have digested it by lunchtime which seems to be hurtling towards me at a rate of knots.
There was a lovely comment from Mikey. I know how much it must have taken for him to write it which makes it even more touching.
On to lunch. Managed the sandwich sans crusts (who wants curly hair anyway?) and it was fine (although it is 6 o'clock already and I'm still stuffed). I found myself telling Hannah not to give me the thickest slices of bread so I can't let go completely. Found it slightly irritating that she felt she had to tell me afterwards that actually, I had had one of the thicker bits. Really necessary? I don't think so. But Rome wasn't built on one sandwich. I can't think that lets me off the hook tonight. Or tomorrow or tomorrow or tomorrow.
Diary entry: 14th January
How do I go forward from here? On one side I have Barry & Simon with the go straight to hospital comments, do not pass go attitude and on the other I have Hannah and the voice of reason maintaining that I can do it. Sorry, I'm having another angry moment. I'll calm down now.
I think I need to establish a routine and stick to it over the few days/weeks in order to have make a consistent weight gain by the end of January. I can feel myself wavering and I think it could be due to last weeks weight loss. I am definitely less resolved when I am lighter. I just hope tomorrow's "weigh-in" (ugh) is a positive one. I think I should forego any trips to London over the next week or two to remove any scope for sophistry.
At last people are starting to comment on the website. It really does make an enormous difference - makes it seem more real. Yet however much I welcome the comments, I can't agree with those that think we can't do anything except cart me off to hospital. OK, if nothing has changed by the time the deadline is reached, I will agree to it, but in the meantime we don't just have to sit twiddling our thumbs until we can say I told you so. So whatever the scales say tomorrow (and fingers, toes, eyes crossed there will be a gain) I'm going to ask Stephanie for a prescription for Clinutren. There, I've written it so I'm going to do it.
Well that was a first. I knew I was going to struggle with dinner so I texted Hannah before I started and asked her to text me in half and hour to tell me to finish the bloody thing. And I did. It wasn't that much, but it did give me a sense of achievement rather than having that nagging feeling of not having done enough.
Remember this feeling - it's nice. Fullness = satisfaction = good. Well done. Legend. Now go and eat your cheesecake.
God I'm full. Please tell me this feeling will pass and that this will have gone down by the morning.
Diary entry: 13th January
(Late, slightly p*****)
Today has been vile. Absolutely ghastly. Not just how I feel but the weather, Barry, my hair - everything.
Yeah, lets let the "experts" take over. You've got to go into hospital. And then what? What happens then? I've still got to go through it, so why can't I do it under our terms?
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Weather for Hemel Hempstead
Tuesday 07 February 2012
Today
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