My parents were in town this weekend, and that's never a good thing for me. It's a good thing that it was only a two-day trip for them. I had had a good week, but then Friday night we drank a little and ate out at Chili's. I couldn't resist the french fries. Saturday is my weigh-in day, and the scale said i GAINED two pounds! I had expected to lose at least two, even with the one meal of greasy, high-calorie stuff. I'm hoping I was just retaining water from the extra salt, but then of course all day Saturday and yesterday I ate all the crap they brought into my house--leftover sausage omlette from breakfast, raspberry pie, hashbrowns, girlscout cookies, white wine, wine coolers, gin and tonics, fettuccine alfredo. I'm getting sick just writing it all down, but I think honesty is important.
I love my parents, and I love seeing them, but they're such a bad influence on the way I eat! It's no surprise why I ended up at 242 lbs in the first place the way they eat huge quantities of crappy food and then talk about their daughters' weights only in their absence. They were talking about one of my high school friends, Amanda, for a while on Friday night. Now my little sister Kimberly is overweight and has a lot of the same issues that I do, except she still lives with my parents. My dad made a comment like, "Well, we know how much Kimi weighs, and Amanda is a lot heavier than her, so she's got to be 330 or 350."
For some reason this really bothered me. I'm protective of both my friends and my little sister, and even though what my dad said was probably the truth, I know he doesn't understand what it's like to be big and have an eating disorder with clinical depression. He is ignorant and hurtful about these things.
So yeah, one meal of grease and salt and I gained two pounds for the week. Then I proceeded to eat alone, secretly, and with abandon for two more days. I need to get back on track now! I need to eat yogurt and vegetable soup and all the things that I know make me feel good, mentally and physically.