So, a whole boule of sourdough bread and three quarters of a jar of peanut butter, bags of chips, huge plates of not so healthy foods, dedicated inactivity. No wonder I stepped on my scale this morning and saw 306.6. Yeah. That was a dash of ice water in my face. Reality check. Check.
In one year I managed to put 24 pounds back on. Fuck.
I don't blame anyone else. It was entirely my own fault. No one held a gun to my head and forced me to gorge and binge and stuff food and my feelings and my frustrations and so forth down my greedy assed pie hole.
I did well, food wise, yesterday and walked. I can do better, and will. I can walk every day possible and will because I can't. I won't. Continue this horror spiral. I don't deserve it and I am not going to continue to abuse myself this way. I have to use more positive and not food centric ways to deal with my pain, anger and fears. Stuffing them down with food only exacerbates my pain, both physically and mentally and it is only further damaging my health. So, I mustmustmust keep my shit together and do the right thing for me.
I had coffee and oatmeal with sliced strawberries for brekkie. I am drinking my water and chewing sugarless gum when the urge to chew hits me. Time to re educate myself and get back on my healthy track and back into my rhythm that worked so well for me. Correction. Works so well for me. My success isn't in the past. It is my future.
Yes, it is.