Heavy burden

So, I am trying to lose 3 stone (45lbs or thereabouts) by July next year so I can go wedding dress shopping without feeling like a blob.

This is very fucking hard.

Now, not to be all middle-class problems about my life (I'm well aware I have a very blessed life in pretty much all respects), but I have always struggled with my weight. I was a rounded child that lost all the puppy fat and still thought she was fat when I was a size 10/12 (that's a US 6/8). Gradually over the years, the weight has crept on and I never did anything about it. If I could tell 20 year-old-me one thing, it wouldn't be 'don't waste your tears over that person' or 'don't choose that job', it would be 'get down a gym and quit smoking or you'll struggle later in life'.

My mother (bless her) has also always struggled with her weight. To make sure I 'never had her problems', she refused pastry, cream, bacon, butter, full fat or sugar puddings and myriad other evils at our dining table growing up. I have never been one of those people who has to have something sweet after dinner. I've never eaten a huge amount. But I like my food, I like my food cooked in butter and juices, I like to eat out, and I love love love to drink.

So I cut back on what I was eating. I've tried not to eat carbs at lunch and dinner because they make me sleepy, so I kept up with that. I eat porridge for breakfast and salads or soups for lunch. I eat salads or chicken casseroles for dinner. I attempt to eat Asian (Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese) if and when we go out. And I all but stopped drinking during the week. This is on top of my new regime of going to Pilates once a week, seeing my trainer once a week and going to Zumba classes twice a week (hopefully going up to three when my back problem can cope).

I keep a food diary and send it to my personal trainer (told you it was a middle-class whinge). And now she wants me to give up booze totally.

I actively look forward to my 3-4 glasses of wine a week. I love wine. I love the taste. I love the smell. I love how it feels decadent on my tongue.

I honestly cried when she said she didn't think I'd see any weight loss without stopping drinking. I'd rather give up cheese and chocolate than booze. I gave up booze once before and didn't lose a single pound. So I'm feeling very depressed and put out that all of my changes and effort appear to count for nothing unless I give up everything I like. I can't even keep one fucking treat while I sweat and cry and go to bed hungry and ignore that other people are shovelling awesome-looking food in their mouths.

I compromised and said I'd quit drinking after our engagement party in two weeks. I'm sure when I get into it, it won't be that bad. I'm sure I can cope with it for a while. It will do me good, and hey, with that and my exercise and diet, this time it might just work for me and I'll go to Cuba in December looking svelte.

But I just feel a bit like I've been kicked while I'm still down, you know?