The answer you're looking for is not in *there*

Weekends are tough. It's easier to do well when I am chained to my desk than when the kids/husband are around. I started yesterday and today well, only to get the brilliant idea to make banana bread for the fam. I ended up consuming about half of it. I am so delusional I thought I could make it as a nice, nurturing gesture and stay away. Once I got a taste of it I just...didn't...stop...eating.

Don't know what I am looking for in the bottom of the bowl. The answer clearly is not there.

Emotional Wreckage in a Refrigerator

I'm working with WorkOut on Bravo in the background. Just heard Jessie (?) refer to food as Emotional Wreckage in a Refrigerator. Or a pantry. Whatever. But it's SO true. Right now, whatever I'm feeling is what I'm wearing on my ass and thighs and gut and arms and calves.

And I've clearly been lying to myself left and right.

"I'm starting back on program today."

"I'm journaling everything for the next week."

"I can do this."

I've been back on program for two days. I think I wanted to believe that Medifast was really THAT easy. That I could just buy the product and I would follow the program.

I didn't count on my ingrained habit of turning to food when I get frustrated with work. With my weight. With my relationship. With my horse's health. With my lack of control over my kids. With myself. With my computer programs. With code that stops working. With not working out. With my perceived inadequacies.

For today, instead of turning to the PB or other food that is off program, I'm trying to just sit with the emotions. Eating doesn't ease them or fix them. It's really just an easy distraction that reinforces the negative emotions.

Today, I've had

1. One Medifast Bar
2. One DCS
3. Another DCS
   

• Four? Diet Cokeuses
  
• 5 Black Olives
• 2 slices Swiss Cheese (NOT on program, really)
• 2 Morningstar Farms Sausage patties

Undone, unglued, unhinged

I'm freakin out, man (to quote B). I'm totally stressed out. I don't know why. Kibby's on the mend (a cortisone shot does wonders for a 27 year old horse with no appetite). The job is going ok but I'm feeling unsettled. I don't feel like this job plays to my strengths and I don't have the time or bandwidth to really learn what I need to know. And I have two meetings tomorrow that will test my knowledge. And another project due for another client. My office is a mess. So is my closet. I keep waking up in a panic (and not exactly sure over what). And I went waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay off program. I'm not working out at all and I miss it.

If I had stayed on I'd be in week six now and about 20 pounds lighter, probably. I'm still down on the scale (not sure how much though). It's getting hotter here and harder to cover up my bulk. I've got nothing to wear and I'm feeling exposed. Maybe that's got as much to do with my current state of mind as anything.

On the bright side, I've got a new supply of product in my closet and the way I'm feeling about myself is motivating (in that I DON'T want to feel this way anymore). So I started back on the Medifast program today. In the spirit of getting back in the groove, I'm going to journal my intake for the next week--ALL OF IT. Nobody but me visits this blog so I can go into all the gory details without worrying about boring anyone but myself.

Here's how today has gone:

1. 7:00 a.m. Dutch Chocolate "Shake"
2. 10:00 a.m. Medifast PB bar
3. 12:30 p.m. Shiiiiit. Already off diet. Get veggie burger and salad at Jack's (the S.O. and the kids wanted to go out for lunch). Eat the delicious bun that comes with the burger. So NOT low carb! Not how you play the game. Not how I planned the day going. And I have one Hershey's Kiss upon arriving home. Dumbass. At least tomorrow it's just me home alone working.
   

• Five Diet Cokes between
  
• 1 glass water at 7 a.m.
  

Stay of Execution for the Catman

Geesh. I've been going rounds with my old, geriatric horse I've had for 23 years. He's dropped a ton of weight quickly over the past few weeks and looks emaciated despite my best attempts to entice him to eat. I had convinced myself euthanasia was probably best at this stage, but the vet thinks we can try a steroid shot to help his appetite. I'll try anything to get him in better shape.

Through it all I've been an emotional wreck. I'm going to miss him like mad. Poor kibby.

Failure is not an option...

or I fear I'll be doomed to continue down this fatty, fatty path.

I've been off program about two weeks. Sorta trying, then giving into Hershey kisses (which I bought as a potty training reward for the twinzillas) and Cheetos (no idea why I bought them except to avoid 3 year olds whining in the grocery store).

Had an interesting chat with my "Health Coach" (I just have to put that in quotes and acknowledge how corny it all seems to me). Anyway, she gave me three key takeaways:

1. It's probably not a great time for weight loss given all my life stressors (too bad for me, because I WILL NOT allow myself to continue down the path I was on)
   
2. I'm going to have to figure this out in spite of my life stressors if I want to be successful (well, duh)
3. Of course I can do this

I think I can, I think I can...

Momentum

Works both ways...

I've got some serious downhill momentum on these life choices (mostly food choices) that aren't working for me. The choices are providing me with some momentary comfort but I'm well aware that they're detrimental to my progress, my health, and my overall mood.

Gotta swing the momentum the other way. Breaking the current momentum and getting going the other way has got to be the hardest part.

Should be running out of excuses any day now...

O.M.G. WTF?!?!? What is wrong with me? I dump $300 on product and then just don't follow the program? Why am I defeating myself? Why do I want to continue to feel like crap about myself? What purpose is food serving me?

Ate SO much yesterday--subway, spaghetti, and about a cubic foot of birthday cake (only a minor exaggeration).

Today had one griller this a.m. followed by about 3/4 cup of PB. At 3:30 I am calling this stupid, self-defeatist game I'm playing with myself.

I want to run marathons again.

I want to feel pretty again.

I want to feel like a woman again.

I want more energy.

I want my clothes to fit.

I want my kids and my husband to be proud of me (rather than embarrassed of me).

I want to focus on things other than my weight.

I want my frickin confidence back.

I want to feel free again.

Kinda sorta on program

So, I'm back--but with some serious bad habits to break.

The siren call of PB.
Cheese, grommit.
If sweets are in the house, can the fat girl NOT eat them?

I'm "pretty much" on track today. I ate about two tablespoons of PB because I was feeling shaky after my second Dutch Chocolate Shake of the day (Disclosure: I had only eaten it a minute earlier--so I that's just a piss poor excuse). When I started the second tablespoon the conscience kicked in, but I did NOT listen and put down the spoon. I'm out of bars and did rely pretty heavily on those.

On the plus side, I'm down another pound despite my indulgences the past week and a half (chocolate, cookies, cheesecake, and a sandwich in SF when there was no real alternative).

On the minus side, I could be down SO much further had I stayed on. If I stay on. Need to stay on.