Week 27 Weigh-in - dose 10mg

6 days ago
3 min read

Weekly Weigh-In: Week 27 - AKA: The One Where My Brain Took Annual Leave and My Body Kept the Receipts

Well hello there.

It’s me.

Alive.

Mostly.

Emerging slowly from the fog like a Victorian child with a fainting couch and a dramatic sigh.

Yes. SIX WEEKS.

Six whole weeks since my last blog post.

Week 21 feels like a previous era. A different season of life. Possibly a different government.

Before anyone panics: I did not fall off the planet, I did not rage-quit the internet, and I did not eat any bats, squirrels, pangolins, or woodland creatures of any description.

What did happen was this:

I got sick.

Then I got really sick.

Then I got better-ish.

Then I got sick again but in a “my soul is tired and my brain has stopped loading” way.

Some sort of weird flu situation that arrived just before Christmas like an uninvited guest, drank all the prosecco, stole my energy, and refused to leave until well into the New Year.

Honestly?

My brain was not braining.

Not even a little bit.

Writing a blog post felt like being asked to solve algebra while underwater. Thinking was optional. Existing was… ambitious.

So if you were wondering where I’d gone - I was horizontal, wrapped in blankets, negotiating with my immune system, whispering “just let me live” into a mug of tea.

SO. MUCH. HAS. HAPPENED.

(But also somehow nothing??)

Since my last weigh-in back in Week 21, life has done that thing where it absolutely barrels on without asking for consent.

Christmas happened.

New Year happened.

I happened (barely).

Food was eaten.

Sleep was attempted.

Pyjamas were worn far too professionally.

And the blog… well, the blog had to wait.

But now we’re here.

Week 27.

Back in the saddle. Slightly creaky. Mildly feral. Still coughing.

THE NUMBERS (Because We Love a Spreadsheet Moment):

Let’s get straight to the part everyone pretends they don’t care about but absolutely does..

Despite six weeks off blogging, being ill, festive chaos, and my general vibe being “confused Victorian orphan”…

I am still down 4.2 lbs

Yes.

UP and down along the way - because obviously - but still a loss.

That brings me to:

• 36.4 lbs lost in total

• 16.5 kg (for the metric babes)

I mean??

I’ll take it.

I’ll absolutely take it.

BUT HERE’S THE THING…

I’ve reached a point where I’m looking at myself and thinking:

“…what exactly am I meant to lose now?”

Like.

Where?

From where??

A kneecap?? A thought??

Genuinely - I don’t think I have anything else to lose without starting to look like I’ve been whittled.

And so… after a LOT of thinking (and a LOT of staring into space like a Sim whose action queue is full), I made a very conscious decision.

THE MOUNJARO DECISION

I’ve decided to start coming off Mounjaro - slowly and sensibly.

No drama.

No panic.

No “I’m throwing it in the bin and living on vibes”.

Yesterday was my last 10mg jab.

Next stop: 7.5mg.

This feels right.

Measured.

Intentional.

I’m confident I’ll still lose a little more weight - but more importantly, I want to maintain, stabilise, and actually LIVE in this body rather than constantly shrinking it like a jumper in a hot wash.

This chapter isn’t about less.

It’s about enough.

MENTALLY, WHERE ARE WE AT?

Honestly?

Proud.

Grateful.

Still tired.

Still recovering.

But also quietly amazed at what my body has done - even while it was fighting off a mystery virus and my brain had fully logged out.

Weekly Weigh-In: Week 27 - AKA: The One Where My Brain Took Annual Leave and My Body Kept the Receipts

Well hello there.

It’s me.

Alive.

Mostly.

Emerging slowly from the fog like a Victorian child with a fainting couch and a dramatic sigh.

Yes. SIX WEEKS.

Six whole weeks since my last blog post.

Week 21 feels like a previous era. A different season of life. Possibly a different government.

Before anyone panics: I did not fall off the planet, I did not rage-quit the internet, and I did not eat any bats, squirrels, pangolins, or woodland creatures of any description.

What did happen was this:

I got sick.

Then I got really sick.

Then I got better-ish.

Then I got sick again but in a “my soul is tired and my brain has stopped loading” way.

Some sort of weird flu situation that arrived just before Christmas like an uninvited guest, drank all the prosecco, stole my energy, and refused to leave until well into the New Year.

Honestly?

My brain was not braining.

Not even a little bit.

Writing a blog post felt like being asked to solve algebra while underwater. Thinking was optional. Existing was… ambitious.

So if you were wondering where I’d gone - I was horizontal, wrapped in blankets, negotiating with my immune system, whispering “just let me live” into a mug of tea.

SO. MUCH. HAS. HAPPENED.

(But also somehow nothing??)

Since my last weigh-in back in Week 21, life has done that thing where it absolutely barrels on without asking for consent.

Christmas happened.

New Year happened.

I happened (barely).

Food was eaten.

Sleep was attempted.

Pyjamas were worn far too professionally.

And the blog… well, the blog had to wait.

But now we’re here.

Week 27.

Back in the saddle. Slightly creaky. Mildly feral. Still coughing.

THE NUMBERS (Because We Love a Spreadsheet Moment):

Let’s get straight to the part everyone pretends they don’t care about but absolutely does..

Despite six weeks off blogging, being ill, festive chaos, and my general vibe being “confused Victorian orphan”…

I am still down 4.2 lbs

Yes.

UP and down along the way - because obviously - but still a loss.

That brings me to:

• 36.4 lbs lost in total

• 16.5 kg (for the metric babes)

I mean??

I’ll take it.

I’ll absolutely take it.

BUT HERE’S THE THING…

I’ve reached a point where I’m looking at myself and thinking:

“…what exactly am I meant to lose now?”

Like.

Where?

From where??

A kneecap?? A thought??

Genuinely - I don’t think I have anything else to lose without starting to look like I’ve been whittled.

And so… after a LOT of thinking (and a LOT of staring into space like a Sim whose action queue is full), I made a very conscious decision.

THE MOUNJARO DECISION

I’ve decided to start coming off Mounjaro - slowly and sensibly.

No drama.

No panic.

No “I’m throwing it in the bin and living on vibes”.

Yesterday was my last 10mg jab.

Next stop: 7.5mg.

This feels right.

Measured.

Intentional.

I’m confident I’ll still lose a little more weight - but more importantly, I want to maintain, stabilise, and actually LIVE in this body rather than constantly shrinking it like a jumper in a hot wash.

This chapter isn’t about less.

It’s about enough.

MENTALLY, WHERE ARE WE AT?

Honestly?

Proud.

Grateful.

Still tired.

Still recovering.

But also quietly amazed at what my body has done - even while it was fighting off a mystery virus and my brain had fully logged out.

This journey hasn’t been linear.

It hasn’t been aesthetic.

And it definitely hasn’t been quiet.

But it’s been real.

SO HERE WE ARE