Breathing out

I’ve discovered the secret to making breathing more fun. I now lie in bed or sit at my desk at work and breathe out and am secretly pleased with my breath.

I read an article recently about losing weight. It was about where the fat goes when you lose weight. It doesn’t “turn into muscle”, as you really should know. A bit of it is lost through sweat and pee and poo, but not the majority of it. Most of it is lost through respiration.

That’s right, when you lose weight, your fat is turned into chemicals that you literally breathe out. Since I learned that fact I lie in bed, and I feel myself breathing and I feel like I did when I gave up smoking, where every cough was the sound of the smoker I used to be dying. When I’ve eaten within my calories for the day, I just have to breathe and the fat is exiting with every breath. My breath is the death throes of my fat.

And I have eaten within my calories this week, so I’ve lost 8 pounds in the last seven days, which is a nice start.

The first few days were tough. I missed evening bingeing. If I didn’t get home after work and immediately gorge myself, how was I meant to spend the evening? How was I to get to sleep if I wasn’t to eat so much that my body began to shut down? New time opens up for me when I diet. Meals no longer need recovery time. It’s good, but at the start it’s empty and scary and a bit too real.

I’m OK with my reality these days, but there are times when the similarity between alcoholism and overeating strikes me. I understand that urge to obliterate your free time. The urge to forget. I don’t drink a lot. When I want to ease pain or to forget, I just download the Dominos app and start ordering. (I don’t leave the Dominos app on my phone. Like a true addict, I erase the evidence the next morning and then download it again that evening when I need it.) I haven’t binged in a week. And that’s a damn good start.

I’m feeling those happy feelings again.

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