I have had a very tough week.
I have had days this week when the grief of the loss of what I thought was a loving, decent husband and a best friend had become so unbearable that I found myself crying inconsolably.
It is OK to feel sad and to grieve as I deem fit.
The loss and heartbreak are compounded by the continued inexplicable behaviour of my ex. He wants a divorce and I can’t wait to be divorced from him. The easiest, quickest, cheapest, least emotionally draining way of doing so and both of us moving on with our lives, is for both of us to sit down or speak, and as much as possible, sort out how to divide our assets and finances, using lawyers and mediators to finalise things. My ex for some reasons best known to him, refuses to talk or meet with me, and insists on making my life as unbearable as possible.
He left. So why the anger and venom towards me?
That is a rhetorical question. I have given up trying to figure out why he does what he does or what the hell goes on in his head.
Yesterday, in my immense sadness, I managed to depress myself to fuck by succumbing to the totally pointless exercise of reading old texts and messages between my soon to be ex-husband and I. They revealed that like most marriages, there were ups and downs but the loving messages far outweighed the crappy ones. Even after I had discovered his affair, he was still writing that he loved me. I shall not torture myself with anything that pointless ever again.
I am physically and emotionally drained but…if you think this post is all doom and gloom, think again.
Today, my wonderful friend and Cambridge consultant Mandy was pumping her fist in the air like a tennis player who’s just won a crucial point. I was dancing like Carlton from the Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Yep, showing my age there.
I am utterly thrilled to report that I have today lost Four Stones and 1 1/2 pounds. In other language; 26.1 kg; 57.4 pounds.
This diet has probably saved my life because fuck knows that if since February, I had resorted to my pre-Cambridge way of grieving; eating chocolates in bed while crying and listening to sad love songs, followed by stuffing myself full of carbs and takeaways, by now, I would have been so fat that I would have needed someone washing me and a crane to get me in and out of my home.
I am a true believer that everything happens for a reason, even though being human, I cannot pretend to understand some of the stuff that have happened to me this year. But there must be a reason that after years of thinking about the Cambridge diet, this year of all years, I finally started this diet and have stuck to it through all the horrendous crap.
I thank all of you reading this, those that continue to get in touch and to follow my quest to lose weight. Thank you.
Week Twenty’s verdict: today’s weight 98.3 kg, week’s weight loss 1.1 kg (2.4 pounds); total weight loss; 26.1 kg ( 57.4 pounds)