I am so damn hungry, I might just lose my mind. 60 days of this hell? Sh*t! I need some effing help with this! I should not be this hungry. I’m not insulin-resistant to my knowledge. This is what happens every time I go on a G.D. diet. I’m hungry, I’m cranky and I don’t know how long I can stand it. I’m not even getting on a damned scale because I know I’m not losing anything.

I’m afraid to leave the house. I’m especially afraid to leave the house with any money in my pocket, or any plastic either. I’m not really the binging type, but being hungry to this degree for 4 days is enough to prompt a stop at McFatAss.

I did cheat yesterday I’m sorry to say. Sweetness went to the new Mediterranean place down the street and came home with 2 orders of #6 Combo. That’s one Kabob, a little Chicken Shawarma, a little Beef Shawarma, some Tabbouleh, Baba Ganoush, and rice. They forgot to put the pitas in the bag, thank god. Oh, and a piece of Baklava. What’s wrong with this you say? Well according to the diet from hell, I should be having not more than 3 oz of protein with a meal. I should be having no more than 1 TEASPOON of oil. No, this was not fake, diet Mediterranean food; it was the real deal–with lot’s of olive oil and tahini. I did okay at first. I ate a little of it. I stayed away from the garlic mayo sauce entirely. I didn’t add any of the tahini. I had a little of the Tabbouleh, a bite of the Kabob. I put it away–all except for the baklava, which I ate. I enjoyed every damn bit of it too.

That was dinner and DAMN was it good. Supposedly my last meal of the day. I was fine–not stuffed but completely satisfied.–until the hunger set in again about 3 hours later. It was still way too early to go to bed. Sweetness was hungry too and he went for his leftovers. I couldn’t stand it; I went for mine too. It was the first time since Wednesday that I didn’t go to bed hungry, but I felt guilty as hell.

Part of my problem is that I don’t know how to cook for this no-fat, no-sugar, no-fun plan. I’m a damn good cook–but not if I can’t put some olive oil in the pan; not if I can’t sneak a spoon of butter into a sauce once in awhile. Yes, we’ve cleaned up our act with regards to processed foods and junk food and fast food. That stuff is gone from my life. But I don’t know how to make food on this restrictive of a diet. It sucks. Please don’t tell me that bullshit about how plain steamed vegetables are better and how a nice piece of fresh fruit is the best possible dessert. I’m a little cranky and I might beat your ass.

A friend told me a story once about her friend who had a gastric bypass. She said her friend was really sad for a long time right after the surgery–because she missed the food. She was apparently from a large family that has a lot of family gatherings that centered on food and they were all very good cooks. After the surgery, she couldn’t do it any more. She couldn’t cook, she couldn’t eat. She didn’t know how to celebrate without food. Here’s me. I don’t know how to cook low-fat food either. All my treasured family recipes are out the window. I don’t know what to do to make the food interesting. If I eat another piece of poached chicken this week I will gag.

I looked yesterday at some recipes on a well-know light cooking website. Most of them have something in them I won’t be able to eat. To be able to cook anything suitable, I will have to weed through a lot of recipes. Right now, I’m not in the mood. Can you look at cookbooks or watch “food porn” when you’re hungry? Me either.