Something really awful happened yesterday. We found out that my sister Stephanie's boss was killed at Ft. Hood. Stephanie loved this man. He was not just her boss, he was her friend. No words to explain this thing.
When something happens for which there are no words food seems to speak very loudly. I went off plan in a big way. I told myself that I would not weigh this morning, would just jump right back on track and let things settle out on Monday at my self-imposed weigh-in. I didn't keep my promise. I weighed. Up 2 pounds. Well, duh. But it hurts to move backward and so, naturally, and because it always makes things better to repeat bad behavior, I ate a box of reduced fat Wheat Thins and a carton of lowfat cottage cheese to make myself feel better. Yikes!
Part of me is hanging on to being the fat girl. Part of me needs to know it is okay to run to food for comfort, part of me is reassured by the thought that food will always be there, even when I lose someone dear. That is of course, if I live through the diabetes, infections, high blood pressure, and general ill health to survive someone dear, to actually out live them. Highly unlikely if food continues to occupy this role in my life.
So I made a terrible choice at breakfast today. I can take more steps, eat right the rest of the day, make my mind up to continue forward without dwelling on the past. I can. I will.
No comments:
Post a Comment