This week I had a completely horrible 100% off plan kinda day. I had had a really stressful couple days ... not just stressful but life changing stressful kinda days. And I was tired, overwhelmed, anxious, dissatisfied, and lonely. Those feelings were not going away and I was maxed out emotionally. Honestly, I was feeling so many things, I had no idea what I was even feeling and knew that in order to figure it all out, I'd need time and energy I just didn't have to give.
So, when I woke up on Tuesday morning and before I even stepped foot outside my front door, I had made up my mind to be off plan all day and even skip my weigh in for the team challenge that night. I just didn't want to deal with anything and therefore needed a "day off" from everything including my diet. Stressed = food .... Right? (Stop shaking your heads no ... I know ... I know ...)
On my way into work, I stopped off at Starbucks for a pumpkin spice latte and a pumpkin scone. When I walked into the office, I swung by the candy dish and downed three 3 musketeers mini bars (darn previous post and Halloween candy!). Later in the day, when I stopped at the grocery store for cottage cheese, I instead purchased an almond joy, peanut butter cups, and a bottle of wine all while ignoring the cottage cheese aisle completely. When I got home I ordered a cheese pizza and consumed quite a few pieces because for some reason, all my eating during the day hadn't solved my problems. I hate it when that happens.
Yes, I was in a funk. The stress I'd been under had driven me back to the 300 pound Wendy and I completely caved to that calling. I was the Wendy that would consume instead of processing the feelings and thoughts swirling around in my head. I was binging in the worst way and for some reason, I couldn't get a handle on it.
I felt like an overflowing laundry basket and although it would have been easier and quicker to just do the laundry, instead I was rebelling, stuffing it down into the basket, and continuing to throw more dirty clothes on the pile. I haven't had such a bad food day like I did on Tuesday since before I ever even started this weight loss journey like over three years ago.
That night I went to bed in tears. Not only did I have all the afore mentioned feelings, I also was now showered with guilt for letting my team challenge partner down and more importantly for letting myself down. I didn't just slip and fall a little ways down the hill, I took a running jump off a very steep cliff without a parachute.
Wednesday needed to be a new day.
I woke knowing I needed a plan. I needed to find a way to cope. So I carved out a couple hours early yesterday morning to journal (I had a loooooot to say!) and then planned horse time that evening to rejuvenate my soul. I called a friend or two and slowly started putting myself back together.
I don't know what the scale did after my little adventure off the cliff. I'm scared to know that truth until I'm in a more emotionally stable place.
I am thankful though that my nosedive lasted only a day before I was lifted by the breeze and put back on the path. If I truly would have given into the old Wendy, the nosedive would have continued until my full 300 pound self was realized. That didn't happen so that shows progress right there.
The 300 pound Wendy didn't understand that although pizza tastes good in the moment, it feels horrible. It's almost suffocating. Pizza comes with quilt, shame, and disappointment that take up residence in my brain whilst the pounds take up residence on my hips.
I don't need that added pressure right now. I can and will face this emotional battle with the proper tools so that I come out the victor.
Today I'm again trudging forward and in the process putting this little fiasco further in the past. I can't dwell on it. I will however learn from it and remember that the taste of something certainly doesn't outweigh the feelings it produces. Those feelings only serve to further destroy an already fragile soul.
And who needs that?!?!?!?!