Could alternately be titled "the pendulum of self pity". Last night I fell from grace. I ate an entire bag of "Bob's Texas Cracked Pepper Chips" and of course made a cheese/mayo sandwich. Not that there is anything wrong with eating those things in moderation, except I didn't. The whole escapade cost me 1200 calories on top of what I had already eaten.
Since I started this blog 5 weeks ago, hell, since I started this diet two decades ago, I have lost a grand total of about 5 fucking pounds that I have managed to keep off. Pitiful.
I know that I was struggling to get back into it after the weekend, but I thought that I was coming out of the funk. Then last night I got into a yelling match with my son, later that night (you guessed it, after 10 - "the witching hour") I turned to food to relieve my guilt (ironic) and/or provide some comfort. This morning the comfort had evaporated and I was left wondering if I will ever get this thing done.
I sabotage myself. No one forced me to drink and eat too much last weekend, well, that is not entirely true, I was forced to do tequila shots, but hell, that is life (though the after effects don't necessarily feel like "living"). No one made me eat like I have been the last few days, It is only me not wanting to leave this blubbery cocoon I have fashioned for myself.
Everbody has ups and downs, but the down parts seem to linger with me, as if I am afraid to lose them, an old friend that keeps telling me it will all be okay if I stay fat. Only I don't want to be fat anymore and I lack the skills, the determination, the courage to walk a more healthy path. I know that if I could just stay on it for a while, that the rhythm of continuing would flow more easily. I am finding that it helps to blog, to put these mini disasters "out there" so I don't have to own them anymore. Yes, it makes for boring and redundant reading, but it seems to lift a burden off me somehow, a reasonable compromise I can live with. I feel better already!
You are a great writer and make it all the emotions so real. How old is your son? Kids can "help" us develop all sorts of bad habits/stress relievers.
Posted by: Margaret | May 15, 2005 at 22:40