When We Really, REALLY, Want to Have a Pity Party
/Weight Loss Fluctuations (4.21.2025 to 4.27.2025)
We humans are a curious species. In this instance, not curious as in inquisitive but curious as in odd. Weird, even. What other category of creature engages in behaviors that don't serve us well, that even undermine our best interests? Which other animal willfully eats foods that make them feel gross? At least, which animal eats that food more than a few times? None, I think.
Beyond the whole food thing, which is enough in itself (think: 'I know I'm going to feel like crap after eating this stuffed crust pizza… Ah heck. Throw in a brownie as well!'), there's also the very hominid habit of feeling sorry for ourselves, particularly when we compare our circumstances to those of others. We wonder why it is that our sibling, cousin, co-worker, or—the worst—our spouse eats ALL the food ALL the time, and they go about their lives without a thought to weight, blood sugar, or the horror of seeing photographic confirmation of the worst fears of how they look. They never think about those things because they are them, and we are … ugh … we are us. Poor, pitiful, unlucky us. We vacillate between the twin questions that rattle in our brains: "Why us?" (the bad stuff), and "Why not us?", (the good stuff).
Those ruminations, gentle reader, qualify as engaging in pity parties, 'parties' which are not celebrations but rather miserable, counter-productive energy sucks.
How does following the ketogenic protocol help us deal with the internal broken record of nattering negativity?
In short? It doesn't.
In long? Feeling that we drew the short straw regarding weight, looks, fitness, personal relationships, wealth, ad infinitum are not diet-specific. Surely, some vegans envy other vegans and wish they found it as easy to stick to whole grains and organic produce as they do; some are certain that people who stick to a budget have an edge from their upbringing which we never had, which is why our credit cards are perpetually maxed out; and those of us who know to our core that if only we didn't need comfort food to get through a challenging situation we could overcome our weight issues.
"Why am I the unlucky one?" "Why aren't I the lucky one?"
I write this a frequent personal pity party host: the answer to these and many others is "because."
While my life has been ludicrously lucky and I possess some enviable traits and gifts but my mental dialogue—or monologue?—was often a brutal inventory of my failings concerning my weight and, ultimately, my protracted progression toward ill health. I'd think of people in my social circle who gave nary a thought to what they ate, much less to their size compared to the rest of the group. "Why can't I have their metabolism?" “If I was taller, I could appear thinner at this same weight is why does she have the legs of a flamingo, and I have legs like a bulldog?" ... "Why me? Poor, poor, pitiful me."
"Why?"
Because: that's why.
We all have things others may envy, qualities that make them ask why they aren't as lucky as we are. Why do some people have a knack for technology while others are more comfortable with a pencil, paper, and a Texas Instruments push-button calculator? Because. Why can this person have half a glass of chardonnay and stop while that person would have a challenge calling it quits after a liter? Because. Why do I always choose the wrong line at Costco, where the person ahead of me is trying to pay with a third-party personal check? Why do I have narrative, exhausting dreams while My Lovely Mate doesn't dream at all? Why do I have a wonky left eye when other people my age have perfect vision?
Because, because, and because.
Perseverating on self-pity keeps us stuck in the past. Until we shift out of 'why me' mode, it will be hard to get over ourselves and put into action those things that help us move forward, and forward is the only valid option we have. Let's go there (forward), shall we?
As always, if I can do this, you can do this. I promise.
Disclaimer: I’m not a medical doctor, researcher, or Ph.D., but instead, I’ve been fortunate to have had the time and resources to research the ketogenic diet, also known as LCHF (low carb/high fat). The information I share is based solely on my understanding of that research. We are all responsible for our own choices, including what we put in our mouths, and there’s no substitute for each of us checking things out ourselves. And I’m not a medical professional in any way. Go Keto With Casey is not a medical site. “Duh,” you might say. But best to make it clear to all. I welcome questions, comments, and even civil criticism. I’m still learning. So, if you have something to add, go for it. Links in this post and all others may direct you to affiliate links, where I will receive a small amount of the purchase price of any items you buy through those links. Thanks!
