Day 74: What the Window Cleaner Saw…

…Or didn’t see.

The understatement of the year is that I’ve been a little distracted lately. I nearly pressed publish by mistake (yet again) because a plumber’s arrival is imminent. No euphemism intended.

The window to the en suite bathroom is clear glass so that you can see trees and green of the garden whilst in the bath. I also have a big mirror on the opposite wall; the whole bringing the outside inside thing plus space creating design. There is of course a blind, but I never use that as it defeats the object of seeing the outside inside. For privacy in the bathroom, I depend on shower curtains…

2015-04-17 08.48.41

I had the bright idea to wash the rather nice new en suite shower curtains; one of those two material curtains – a waterproof curtain on the inside and a beautiful material on the outside. The washing went well and then came the drying…

I had a momentarily thought about leaving the waterproof material to drip dry into the bath. I dismissed that thought. I unconsciously pressed low heat but the current fog that is my head actually dismissed that sensible idea too, pressing a second time to dry both materials on normal heat.

The waterproof material melted. Another thing to put on my list of things that have been ruined recently by my confused state of mind.

Until I can find someone to fix the new waterproof curtains I bought to go on the inside of the cloth, (as I can’t physically do it myself), I am left with only the pretty and non-waterproof curtain. Yeah to splashing water all over the bathroom floor.

The window cleaner was later than usual. I was sitting on the edge of bath tub having opened the barely there curtains, distracted by alarms ringing on my phone, whatsapp buzzing, phone ringing. And then through the open bathroom door, I spotted the window cleaner cleaning the bedroom windows only to return later to the bathroom. He would have passed the bathroom first and would normally have done that first. Did he climb up his ladder, saw me naked and discreetly bailed to the next window? Did he see me there all naked? Was that a sheepish smile on his face when I went to pay him or his usual smile? Perhaps I was lucky and he just decided to clean the bedroom first?

I will never know.

And if he did, at least he saw the 37+ pounds lighter me. Still going strong with my diet. Still on it 100%.

window cleaner


Day 73 – Wait a Minute…

I’m a little busy right now…

Can I please postpone my mental breakdown?

too busy for nervous breakdown

This has been an extremely tough week mentally and physically. I feel like I am fighting for my life and I guess in some ways, I am.

Let’s start with the physical…

I have physical limitations. They include extremely serious spinal problems. I suffer from excruciatingly painful chronic back problems. I refuse to be pumped full of chemicals and so, I grin and bear it. Mind over matter and all that.

My daily routine when my husband was home involved a loving and short rub of my back in the morning and sometimes at night. After 14 years, he was the only one who knew exactly how to rub my back to give me immeasurable relief.

We would go to sleep with him spooning my back. Those back rubs were my lifeline. I often told him the way he held me at night was one of the best things in my life. It is (was) akin to coming home.

There is no one to rub my back and in a small way, ease my pains.

There is no one to spoon, hold and comfort me at night.

This week, I have been logging around heavy stuff that I have no business lifting. I’ve been loading and pushing heavy bins through long steep passages. I have not done any such “manly” thing for over 20 years (6 years relationship, plus a little gap where I had a boyfriend, plus 14 years with my husband).

At the end of all that, every bone in my body was shattered. My back was on fire. I am proud of myself for carrying on with things. By goodness have I carried on with things. I was feeling like shit and there I was, accessories to match my clothes, full make-up, bright red lipstick, bring red nail polish, big Prada sunglasses, rock star me.

Now that an event two Saturdays ago has announced to my gossiping neighbours that my husband is no longer at our home, my goodness, they must know that I keep ticking. I keep going. I hold my head high. I haven’t done anything to be ashamed of. The explosion that has rocked my life wasn’t lit by me.

The only place I will lose it will be behind closed doors.

i have to scream now

Mentally, this week has stretched me beyond all endurance. If I had tried to write this post yesterday, it would have been complete and utter jibberish. If this post is littered with mistakes and nonsensical, forgive me.

It’s been one of those weeks. I haven’t slept for more than one or two hours each night since Saturday. I am both worried and impressed by myself that I am still functioning.

I had planned to check myself into a clinic this morning to get dosed up and sleep for hours and hours and hours and hours. Sleep always cures all my ills.

And then the gardener who was supposed to revamp my garden which has been neglected for months for reasons I now understand, cancelled yesterday. (He didn’t turn up today either but hopefully tomorrow will be third time lucky.) There was no way on earth I was going to leave the house knowing that by the time I got back home or find someone else to sort the garden, it would be a jungle out there.

I might as well announce to the whole world that my life is in complete chaos. Hell no. There must be some order in all this confusion.

This mental breakdown will have to wait another day, preferably, never.


I am not being flippant about mental health issues nor am I dicing with my vulnerable state of mind. This morning, I had a very long phone call with a very kind practitioner at the clinic who has armed me with another appointment, more information and reassurances that help is at hand 24/7. He was very nice to me and I found myself crying like a baby. He reassured me that the trauma and grief I was experiencing, with the endless sleepless nights, depressed mood, crying etc. were normal in the circumstances.

I felt reassured that he thought that I hadn’t completely lost it even though he didn’t even know a fraction of the events of the last 9 weeks and one day.

For all that is good in the universe, I hope that I finally get some sleep tonight.

I am down but I am not out.

down but not out


Day 70- Darling Buds of…April.

I feel like utter shit today.

That talk with myself was totally pointless. I thought my week couldn’t get any worse; it did. I probably had less than an hour’s sleep last night. I need to sort myself out very soon as things are rapidly getting out of hand. I can’t remember the last time I had a good night sleep. My sleep has really been disturbed since January and the stress of the last 8 weeks and 5 days have been a bitch and a half.

I’ve given up pretending to be strong; I am a complete mess.

This year isn’t just about losing weight, it is also about being healthy. The situation I’ve found myself in has gotten out of hand.

If I go quiet for some days, please don’t think I’ve fallen off the diet wagon, that’s just me sorting my head out and getting some sleep.

I have a bitch of a headache. Nurofen liquid express hasn’t helped. Water hasn’t helped. Coffee hasn’t helped. And I decided a long shower might help…

And there it was…


A flicker of hope and light in all the darkness. A source of life that has refused to give up and die. A potted plant that I bought from M&S in December. It was only guaranteed to last a month. I have had a previous one die within two weeks.

This little beauty on the bathroom window, is a real fighter. For some reason, it has survived the odds, kept going long after all the flowers had disappeared.

And now buds. And a glorious little flower.

In whatever bleak moments we face, there are joys to be had; we just have to open our eyes, minds and hearts.

In other news, still no sign of my disappeared period. And in case you really wanted to know (not), I have 0.00000% chance of being pregnant with a Cambridge baby.

Better news is some movement on the scale this morning. Long may it continue.


Day 68, Week 10 (Unofficial) Weigh-in, it’s a Good One…

This has been a very tough week.

Yesterday, I got myself totally stressed out with a combination of lack of sleep and struggling with a multitude of to-do lists. It finally dawned on me that I was definitely going to end up in hospital. In fact, I considered checking myself into a clinic before it became too late.

Today, I have had a very serious talk…with myself.

I have told myself that there is absolutely no reason for any rush. There is no reason to change the passwords of anything. In fact, I changed back some passwords I had already amended.

There is no reason to figure out everything someone else has handled for 14 years in just five days.

All I need right now is food, water and shelter. Everything else, could be sorted out in due course.

I told myself that stress is a killer. It could mess up your head beyond redemption. The unbearable stress of the last two months, has already messed up my body so much so that my period which always comes like clockwork has refused to come since Monday.

I therefore owe it to myself, my wonderful family and even to my husband, to de-stress, look after my mental health and make sure I don’t end up in hospital.

Today has been very busy and productive. Tomorrow will be busy too but I promise myself that I will do just that. Forget about everything for now and simply be.


Now, let’s talk about this week’s weight loss!

My lovely Cambridge consultant Mandy is away today and I really wish she was here to share the joy of hitting this mini target. I have chosen to record my unofficial weight. I say unofficial but it really isn’t because I would have recorded the same weight had she been around as I used the same scale, wore the same clothes, weighed at the same time and stood in exactly the same place as I would normally stand when I weigh with her.

The great news is that I have today lost a fraction over two and a half stones!! I have also had the biggest weight loss since week 2! Woo hoo.

Week Ten’s verdict: Today’s weight 108.3kg, week’s weight loss 1.8 kg (3.96 pounds); total weight loss; 16.1 kg ( 35.4pounds)


The support that I have had from the readers of this blog both here and on private emails has been truly humbling. A big thank you to all of you for your support of my weight loss quest.

Next mini target, 3 stones. OMG.


Day 65: Love Don’t Live Here Any More

Warning: This is a long, depressing post!

I haven’t written for some days because I only want to write dark things. But you know what, better out than in. You can always skip to the end of the post for bits on my weight loss diet!

Like the song goes, love don’t live here any more.

Exactly eight weeks today, sitting alone in the beautiful house I have lived with my husband for 11 (very) happy years, (well, I thought they were happy), trawling through a laptop, I found out things that have completely devastated my life.

The last 8 weeks have been a rollercoaster of emotions and countless heartbreaking and hurtful revelations that would have made a less strong person find a tall building and jump off. Every time that I thought things couldn’t get any worse, they are topped by even worse things.

And then Saturday night happened.

This was off the scale craptastic. You couldn’t make this shit up. I unconsciously pinch myself to wake up from the nightmares I find myself.

It has finally dawned on me that the wonderful, smart, intelligent, thoughtful, considerate, kind, loving, caring, gentle, fun, saintly man that I loved has truly gone. Like some sick computer upgrade or twisted sci fi movie, his body has been invaded by VersionX – a cruel, evil, deceitful, erratic, lying, cheating, unpredictable, secretive, unintelligent, unthinking, uncaring scum bag.

My man is gone, replaced by a complete stranger.

My life has imploded all around me.

I am completely overwhelmed by all the things I have to do; things I have to learn to do; things I have to change; things I have to adapt to. My to-do list seems unending. My mantra for today is inhale, exhale, just breathe.


I am also completely overwhelmed by the sense of loss and grief that I feel.

It isn’t just my marriage of nearly 11 years exploding all around me. I have lost my best friend in the whole world. I have lost the love of my life. I have lost all hopes and plans for a future with someone who has never spent more than 5 days at any one time away from me in over 14 years. Someone who only a few weeks ago was telling me I was the ying to his yang, his world would be incomplete without me, I was his world.

It has all been a lie.

I never knew there could be pain like this
I never knew betrayal could hurt this badly
I never knew trust could be smashed this badly
I never knew everything that was before
I never knew they meant so little

I never knew I could count for so little
I never knew my life had all been a lie
I never knew I could be discarded so easily
I never knew I loved and laid with a stranger
I never knew a lot by the sound of things

I never knew…but now I bloody know.

Through all that darkness, I have stuck to the diet 100%.

Even on days that I have laid in bed all day and cried, following nights that I laid awake and cried all night, I would still force down 4 litres of water, tapping diligently on my water app. Even when I had no appetite whatsoever, I would eat three Cambridge products and drag myself downstairs to boil two eggs, 80g of salad and drink my 300ml milk requirement.

I wouldn’t recommend this heartbreak diet but given that my life has been shit for exactly 8 weeks, almost the duration of this diet, (nine weeks and one day), it would be extremely silly to give up now and stuff my face with junk food.

Nope, still not doing that. Life sucks but being fat sucks too.

being fat sucks


Day 61 – Week Nine Weigh-in

This diet works.

It really does.

OK, my losses are not earth-shattering and I am unlikely to be losing the Cambridge diet average of one stone loss a month, an average that is inclusive of men and young people who lose weight much faster. I am also unlikely to lose 5 stones in 6 months or the now overly ambitious sounding 10 stones in 12 months but you know what, it really doesn’t matter. The important thing is that the weight is going down. If it takes me longer than I anticipated to lose the weight, there so be it because there is absolutely nothing I can do about that.


Yesterday for the first time since I started the diet, I seriously craved something that isn’t allowed in my diet. I craved some hot peppered soup that I tend to have for comfort when life sucks. The good news is that this soup is made of meat and broth, albeit meat not allowed in my diet but it wouldn’t have kicked me out of ketosis and so isn’t entirely the worst thing to have.

The better news is that I wasn’t craving cakes or bread. I also recognised that having once again, had very little sleep the previous day, the craving was more to do with my state of mind than anything else.

pepper soup

The best news is that I didn’t give into this craving. I am still a 100 %er.

After a slow week, finally yesterday, some movement on the scale. Today, no further movement but I’m good with the loss.

Week Nine verdict: Today’s weight 110.1 kg, weekly weight loss 0.9 kg (1.98 pounds); total weight loss; 14.3 kg (31.5 pounds)

Life might still suck lemons but like Pharrell Williams, I’m happy with the weight loss.


Day 59 – The Oscar Goes to…

I am still being an excellent teacher’s pet. I’m keeping to about 810 calories daily by eating my three Cambridge products daily, one measured calorie controlled cooked meal strictly keeping within my food and vegetable allowances, and drinking abundance of water daily.

I am still a 100% player or a Platinum Player as the inspirational rockstars of the Cambridge diet call themselves.

Sadly, so far, there has been no weight loss this week. In fact, and even worse, I have not lost the 0.7 kg weight gain I wrote about in my last post, following my long walk by the sea.

I could analyse the hell out of the reasons the weight loss has ground to a halt but I think that the main reason is that there is only so much stress the human body can take. My body has been so busy fighting for its survival, both physically and more importantly, mentally, that even though I am doing all I can as prescribed by the diet, weight loss must be the least of its priorities. The effects of stress and the stress hormones cortisol on weight gain, is well documented.


Add to all that stress, the sort of sleepless nights I have endured these last weeks, especially this week, and it’s game over.


I just pray that I don’t start to retain fat in the deadly abdominal region which is what tends to happen to me when I’m under enormous stress. In 2006, when I was under stresses that do not even begin to compare to recent weeks, I went from having a life-long flat tummy to gaining tummy fats that never went away.

For my part though, whatever is happening in my life, I will continue to keep to the diet 100%. I will also do my best to reduce the stresses as much as I can. Sadly, I am not made of stone but I will certainly try my best.

How I envy those women who lose weight when they are stressed.

This week has been hell. In fact, the last seven weeks and one day of my life, have been hell.

My life is like a horrendous puke-inducing rollercoaster, with a different drama every day of the likes of the worst badly written soap operas you could think of.

In fact, the drama that is my life is so bad, it makes these bad soaps look like winners of Best Picture at the Oscars.

I guess that makes me a fucking soap star but can we now change the scripts? Please?

my life is a soap opera