So first week of May I decided that covid isn't an excuse for me to stuff my face anymore and that it's time to lose the weight I gained since March 2020. I ate A LOT of sweets, I drank a lot, I was sad and angry, and I tried to drown my feelings in sugar and alcohol. It was awful, I hated my ever growing guts and I was just miserable. Nothing in my closet fit anymore, I had to buy a larger bra to avoid the painful squeezing around my chest, and ever the larger bra was getting too tight. I dreaded going back to working in the office because I had NOTHING TO WEAR. Went out to buy new clothes – left empty-handed and unhappy because I had to stare at my fat rolls in the changing rooms.
March this year I started going to therapy and it really helped get my emotions under control and I learned some new coping mechanisms. This led to me quitting drinking which made controlling my diet a bit easier (no more drunken binges). The restrictions in my country are getting removed which means more freedom to do other things besides netflix and gaming.
In April I re-joined a gym and in May I decided to start a 1200kcal/day diet. First two-three weeks my weight almost didn't budge. I weighed myself every Saturday and was really really discouraged when on third week I realised, after an initial measely 2kg loss, I managed to gain a bit. I considered quitting, I considered going on a binge and not giving a sh*t. I was angry that there were no results when for THREE WEEKS I didn't overeat and didn't have any sweets and so on. My lizard brain ALMOST convinced me to quit but I gave myself one more week on 1200/day. I kept telling myself to »trust CICO«. I didn't binge.
The following week I ate at a deficit, I worked out, I hiked, I enjoyed the good weather, I was okay, I tried not thinking too much about the numbers on the scale not dropping fast enough. Then I noticed it – the first telltale sign that the damned diet is working – my jacket (which was REALLY tight around the ass and thighs before) was LOOSE. There was actual space between my ass and the jacket. I was ecstatic.
Today marks almost one month into my strict 1200kcal/day plan. I am discovering new NSVs every day: my bra isn't trying to suffocate me anymore, in fact I will soon switch back to the smaller size. I can see more of my collarbones. The double chin is a bit less! My pants fit more. The old t-shirts fit again. My boobs are smaller (they always grow when I gain weight). A tiny thigh gap is starting to appear.
I am SO HAPPY I didn't quit the second/third week even though I was so disappointed with the number on the scale. But I prefer the NSV signs because while the scale may show a certain number, it doesn't necessarily mean fat loss (or fat gain, for that matter). Every NSV gave me more motivation and willpower to stick with the diet, to not binge, to not angry-overeat when life gets tough sometimes.
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source https://www.reddit.com/r/loseit/comments/nvqxqe/dont_underestimate_nsv/
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