One of the things I continually do wrong is let events have too much control over my self control (or lack of it). If there is a party or a dinner party to attend, I put off dieting, if there is a holiday, I say "why bother". Sometimes relatives come to visit, like my cousin recently, and I use it as an excuse to go off the deep end. They want to go out to dinner or do something that centers around food and I figure, well, if I can't count it, then I guess I have to just forget about maintaining any control at all.
All that would not be so bad, but it is the aftermath that lingers that does real damage. The "event" might last only a day, or even for one meal, but for some reason I throw up my hands as surrendering to forces too powerful! Because I gave up control on the "diet", then I have to recalculate everything, start all over again.
I think I see this weight loss thing as a "program" or a "test" of my will. As if God himself (herself) is putting this obstacle in front of me, presenting a challenge that I am supposed to overcome, or be overcome by. I view it then as more of a journey, like Frodo, carrying a big 50 pound bag of flab up to Mt. Doom. I want to throw myself into the fiery pit, let it burn away my excesses, my sins. It is a definite journey, with a beginning and an ending, there are no pauses, stops, do-overs in-between just because someone is coming to visit!
Is this further evidence of being a perfectionist? Or maybe a narcissist? or perhaps living in a realm yet uncharted by my self help books, like deep seated delusions of grandeur? Maybe I am just nuts and in need of some serious medication (beyond potato chips). One thing is for sure, I have even more to think about on the road to Mt. Doom.