It's amazing how I can oscillate between hope and despair after one night's sleep. I awoke feeling juicy and jazzed about tackling the day...then stepped on the scale.
-0.2 down. I should celebrate.
But it irritated me. I considered what I'd given up, how my portions had been so small yesterday, and I'd exercised so hard.
Snap out of it! Focus on today and what's ahead. I am going to go on a luxurious walk and take a yoga class. (Some of the many benefits of being out of work!)
On the menu tonight: pinto beans and a big salad (with leftover quiche).
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I wonder if I can do this. I know if I'm even wondering that's a bad sign. But what makes this time different from all of the other "diets" and "restarts" and "this time" that I've had in the past? I don't really know the answer.
I am trying to be accountable in words, in writing, online....and perhaps it's just to myself (If you ARE READING this, please comment)...but until then it's just me. At the end and throughout that's all it really ever is, though....just ourselves. I am alone in my journey, my victory, my defeat, my struggle to tackle this nemesis of weight. But it's not "weight" really....it's emotions and how I process them.
I got a call last night from my nurse practitioner..."You have an abnormal cell growth in your pap...I need to see you in 3 months again"....I immediately started picking again at the chicken on my plate. It was completely automatic. The thought didn't even cross my mind that I was eating more food; albeit full, until I snapped the phone closed and looked at what I was doing.
Eating is how I process all things.
Today, I will commit to being kind to myself in words and in choices.
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