5 ways of sabotaging your diet

We know dieting’s hard but stay on track by avoiding Vickie Neave’s 5 ways of sabotaging your diet

I’ve got no strings

You step on the scales removing the belt, watch and chunky necklace having walked into your fat club in a bikini despite sub-zero degrees. WHAT? Half a pound on!? How? Buying a pair of size eight jeans in the sale on Thursday (despite being a curvy 12) surely means you are now a fully paid up member of the skinny club? Membership denied!

The trouble with diets is we have no strings attached. The diet tells us what to do and there is no Mister Geppetto (Pinnochio) taking control of our hand to mouth co-ordination.

Definitely the diet though. Nothing to do with cake on Monday, hot chocolate on Tuesday, curry Wednesday, biscuits Thursday. Oopsie! #headinsand

Give a little whistle

It was sooooo therapeutic clearing out the cupboards. Goodbye to all naughties and hello. The smug dieter even posts on Instagram… #newme #goodness2goddess.

Who you trying to kid? We know! The naughty place, naughty shelf, naughty tin or even a whole naughty cupboard. Hidden behind the lentils, a tub of Nutella – cheeky spoonful here, finger dip there. Hidden behind the ricecakes is a family sharing bag of Maltesers (sharing – hahahahahaha!) and a slab of Dairy Milk so big you could eat your dinner off it. The naughty cupboard – a powerful force. Your friend in times of stress, sadness, anger, fear and even as if to slap you in the face – happiness. The naughty cupboard is there whatever your emotion, pretending to be your friend. No willpower can fight this force. Denying its existence does not aid weight loss. #fightyournaughty.

Anything your heart desires

One little biccy. One little jaffa cake can be all it takes. Half moon, full moon, total eclipse! What the advert means is the total eclipse happens when your arse covers the sun from eating hundreds upon hundreds of blinking jaffa cakes!! It all starts with just one though. One little iddy biddy biscuit! Then it starts – the guilt, the shame, the overwhelming sense of failure! The all-consuming guilt of falling off the diet train gives power to that voice in your head. “Ner ner ner nerrrr ner. Today you have blown it. Start again tomorrow!” (Insert evil laugh!!) The little monster in your head knows that tomorrow will not happen as once you make the stop at Sabotage Station it is so hard to get back on track, there’s no diet oyster card to make the journey smoother. One little biccy then becomes the packet (and yes we know it was a double packet!!) and you have now boarded the runaway train. What’s that you hear? The naughty cupboard is calling you…….. Hello my friend….#stopthevoices

When you wish upon a star

Jumping out of bed with a spring in your step and a Disney theme tune filling your ears. The sky is blue and is that bird song? Yes, birds are sitting on a blossom-filled branch outside your window and today is a glorious day. Just like Disney there is always a baddie – a witch, an evil stepmother – the scales. You step on. How can numbers rule our world? Swing the right way and the world continues to be wonderful and anything your heart desires will come to you. Swing the wrong way and the wicked witch takes control, anger fills your veins and what do you do. Eat! Fabulous idea. Genius! Blowing the diet will make you feel abs-aflamin-lutely marvellous. The cupboard does not even need to call you as you faceplant into it! Hello my friend………Screeeetch. Nooooooo – step away from the naughties and think about this. The numbers mean nothing. If you are eating healthily and exercising it will happen. You might just need a poo for heavens sake ………

Hi-diddle-dee-dee

Alcohol is a partner in sabotage. You promise yourself when you meet with friends for drinkypoos you will have just-the-one spritzer. Did your nose just grow a little? Something magical happens when we enter bars making alcohol sin-free, calorie-free and carefree – Yipppeeeeeee. The nose grows again. One spritzer becomes a glass, a glass becomes a bottle – magic! Oopsie – that spritzer did not happen did it? That little porkie pie does not feel so super dooper now. Alcohol + Diet = The Munchies! Calorie-packed food starts to float before your eyes like a scene from Fantasia (I never liked that weird Disney psychedelic bit) and you fall under of the spell of the Munchies. Waking in the morning you stumble towards the scales to the sound of The Funeral March… What’s that? Is that the naughty cupboard calling you? Hello my friend…….