I've been really tempted to shut this blog down in the last few days. I've been overwhelmed and stressed and my weight has been the last thing on my mind.
I had a really bad day yesterday, eating wise. I made Megan's shortbread recipe. It basically rocks, just like she said. I knew I was in trouble with it, so I sent 3/4 of it to work with my beloved husband. I stashed the rest in the freezer.
Now, let me take a moment to tell you all that I've been a baking fiend. It's what I do. I bake. To the extent that I get tired of all the actual baked goods. I know, it's preposterous. But it is what it is. So, currently, my freezer is full of cinnamon crisp cookies, pumpkin muffins, and shortbread. Maybe some other stuff, but I can't really remember to tell you the truth.
Anyway, yesterday was a real tough day. I haven't been sleeping well. AT ALL. And when mama don't get her sleep, the whole dang world starts to fall apart. Well, at least my housework and mothering skills do. So I was really struggling all day. Plus, I knew that Josh wasn't going to be home to help me as he was in another state. He was within driving distance, but as things have a tendency to do, things didn't go as planned so he didn't get home til late, instead of for dinner like we had planned.
You're welcome for that run on sentence. **Deep breath**
Anyway, to make a long story short, I basically lost my marbles for the majority of the day and ate my weight in shortbread to make up for it. Those little sticks of shortbread are rich; they are basically pure butter and sugar. And I ate 5 or 6 of them. The thing is, I didn't even really want anymore. I was satisfied after just one. Ok, two, but really after those two, I was done. Except, I just kept putting more in my mouth.
I was trying to fill the void, trying to get a handle on my feelings of being overwhelmed and unsettled. And you know what? Food sure as HECK didn't help those feelings. Instead I started feeling sick, physically. Then I felt sick, mentally. I mean, that's just not right. Then I started getting down on myself and feeling like Hilda the Hippo. And from there, it just went from bad to worse.
I had some greasy tortilla chips with cream cheese and salsa. Again, I DIDN'T EVEN WANT IT. I just wanted to focus on something other than my feelings and the reality that my house was a contender for Clean Sweep, my husband whom I adore so much wasn't going to be home, and I still had to come up with something for dinner that the kids would eat. They ended up eating cereal. Mom of the Year, right here.
Anyway, this morning I stepped on the scale. I hadn't weighed yesterday because I just forgot. I rarely weigh anymore. But today I wanted to know the damage. I weighed in at 140.4 to my surprise and shock. Although, I think it takes 2 days sometimes for the effects of eating crap to show on the scale. So maybe the scale will say more tomorrow.
But you know what? I don't care what the scale says tomorrow. I really don't. I will not give up. Clearly there is still work to be done. If not in order to get the scale to move 10 pounds down, then in my relationship with food as a comfort. Food can not comfort me. It can't make things better. It can't change anything.
I tend to get overwhelmed really quick and then turn into an ostrich with my head in the sand. I just can't DEAL. So I bury my emotions and feelings with food, or by getting lost in a book. But that doesn't help anyone. Least of all, me.
So. I pledge to keep this blog going. I pledge to keep walking on this journey of health, and learn to resolve my problems without the aid of food. Otherwise I'll just end up as a really fat, really emotionally unstable person. And that's no good. For anyone.