Don't Let's Call It a Diet

Thank You

Dear friends,

Thank you so much for your comments on yesterday’s post. I’m not sure whether it felt riskier to hit publish or not to do so. After many months of managing well, this was the first significant lapse I had experienced. I’ve spent some time evaluating the "whys" and "wherefores," but what feels more important is to get clear about how to bring a lapse to a halt.
Here are the things I did:

  • I told the truth, out loud, to another person, in this case Pure Luck.
  • I put into words just how crummy I was feeling about it.
  • I recorded the food I had eaten, which was not easy, and I realize now there were things I didn’t remember.
  • I wrote it down where y’all (and the world or a slice of it) could see, which makes it feel more honest.
  • I went to a Weight Watchers meeting even though it was not my usual day.
  • I resisted the urge to eat "one more thing since this day is ruined anyway."
  • To set myself up for success today, I planned out all my food first thing, and I stuck with it. My weekly points are all used up and then some, now that I remember everything more clearly, so there will be three 20 point days unless I manage to get in some activity (wasn’t possible today).

There are so many bright notes about how far I’ve come to this point, I am motivated to keep it together. But I also can see how dangerous the vicious circle of sweets is, especially when the high-fat, high-sugar items are in the house. I’m not used to having them, and my body reacted like an addict’s to the drug of choice. This should come as no surprise. Baked goods were my drug for many, many years. There are definitely times I’ve had a little piece of something in the past seven months, but always under more controlled circumstances (at an event, for instance, so the food was not in my house).  When I’m with people, it’s different. I’m busy interacting.

Trench
I want to say that I ordered Julia Cameron’s book today, suggested by Katharine, although the chances I’ll ever write three morning pages a day by hand are slim given my tendinitis and bad penmanship, but I am interested to read what she has to say.

I also took WideningCircles‘ advice. I’ve been telling myself there was no need to buy a new coat since anything I buy now will be too big next winter. This means I’ve been going around in a non-fitting fleece cape or a way-oversized barn coat, and neither of those does much to reinforce my attitude. So tonight I looked at the Petite coats for sale on the Talbots website and ordered this one.

Thanks again for your words of support. Apparently it takes a village to free a bird.

Yours,
Songbird

13 thoughts on “Thank You”

  1. Will you walk around looking pensive like that in the coat, once it arrives?
    I think you should plan a “visit Eldest at university and go nuts at the talbots outlet” day.

  2. ppb, if you will join me, I will do it.
    And I am much more likely to drive around spilling a nonfat mocha on it. Which is why “chocolate” is such a perfect color.

  3. You’ve left you fair share (and then some!) of kind and generous comments around my blog, and plenty of other’s–I’m glad you let us return the favor every now and again.

  4. And it takes a beautiful free bird to lighten the spirits of the villagers.
    Can I hug you long-distance from Long Island? Reading your words always feels like a hug, and I’d so like to return the favor.

  5. You know I wanted to comment yesterday, but didn’t because I knew you’d figure it out, as you did, so beautifully. You are not, and will never be a failure my friend. Your body and brain was reaching out for what used to be relief, that’s all. Admitting you are somewhat powerless once you pop that sort of stuff in your mouth is far beyond being weak. I’d say, it’s the key to your freedom. Fly Songbird, fly. Love to you friend.

  6. Nothing like skipping meltdown day, and checking in on recovery! Your honest – with self and others – is why this is different than times in the past.
    Nice coat!

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