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That is my feeble attempt to illustrate me dragging myself back, kicking and screaming, to where I need to be to continue to be successful in WW. I've been wallowing in The Old Ways. Friday and Saturday, I ate like the person I used to be: thoughtlessly, indulgently (in a bad way), blindly.
Because of the nasty PMS and being so sad over my daughter going away, I just gave in and said to myself, "Go on, eat whatever the **** you want." So I did. Man, did I. Friday involved Slim Jims and vanilla ice cream, a full bag of popcorn with melted butter, and a full one-pound Hershey bar (the night before weigh-in); Saturday was lunchmeat sandwiches, chips and dip, Mike & Ikes. I didn't have plans for Saturday, so I reverted to my old routine: hours on end of Law & Order SVU and stuffing my face. Disgusting.
And then when I thought I heard someone come in the front door, I jumped up and hid the evidence in my closet. You know, my bedroom closet used to be filled with empty ice cream containers, chip bags, dip jars, candy wrappers, dirty spoons. How awful to live that way. If I heard my sweetie or my daughter come in, I would jump up and hide everything.
They were habits I started when I was at a low point in my life, and it seems I can revert to them very easily, even though all of those issues are resolved and my life is wonderful.
But you know what? I enjoyed it. I LIKED eating without counting. I liked strolling through the store and buying whatever I wanted. Stuffing my face in a dark bedroom by the light of the TV set. I remembered that freedom. And I liked it, and I got kind of resentful toward WW.
I also realized that I have a very hard time comforting myself without food. Like an alcoholic who turns to drink when things get rough, I turn to food (as so many people do). But when I was by myself Friday and Saturday night, feeling PMS-y, sad about my daughter and with no plans to see my bf (though we talked on the phone often), I had no way to comfort myself that didn't include eating. I took a bath, I had a glass of wine, I played on the computer, I took a walk, I played with the cats, I cleaned, I tried to sleep. All the things you SHOULD do when you need to soothe yourself. But as I did each thing, I knew in my head that it was only putting off the inevitable: I had to eat.
That is my goal now, to try to find new ways to soothe myself when I need it that don't include food. I have wonderful friends and people close to me who are a terrific support system, but there are times when it's just me. And I owe it to myself to be able to take care of me without doing anything self-destructive. And while having some chocolate or a little ice cream or something salty is a normal, healthy way of dealing with PMS or emotions, having half a gallon of ice cream is not.
But at least this time I snapped out of it and am OK today and trying to glean a lesson from it. I imagined my goal body and the things we would do and the way we would feel. I didn't let myself dwell in The Old Ways to the point that I was unwilling or unable to come back. I recognized it as the aberration, as the exception to the rule that is my life now as a sane, healthful eater.
Geesh, I'm sorry for the rambling. I'm usually mcuh more coherent. At least I HOPE so!