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Off the Veggie Cart and Into the Mud (Pie)

Ooooookay.

So for two days, I've been immaculate.  Low calories.  Lots of freshly juiced veggies and fruit.  No soda.  A veritable river of fresh water imbibed.

And then tonight after picking Son up from his show, we drove through Jack in the Box.  And I ordered ten of everything they ever thought about making, and also two Monster tacos, and what's that? Now you have Reese's peanut butter dream pie?  Sure, no prob, I'll just wash that down with ALL OF THE COKE YOU HAVE IN THAT MACHINE.

I shit you not.

(fighting... urge... to make... joke about shit... after eating all that... k. I'm good.)

So yeah.

I'm super disappointed and frustrated.  What the hell is wrong with me?

I didn't even feel deprived while I was doing the "right" things, so it isn't that, I don't think.  Stress, maybe, about the flight I have to catch in five hours.  Travel is stressful, and this time in particular is worse, since I'll have to see my mother.  Also going to see family members I haven't seen in years, and I'm a little ashamed of being overweight. We spent all night cleaning clothes and packing.  Boyfriend is tense and being a little bit of a jerk here and there, so Son is giving me worried looks every time Boyfriend snaps at me or stomps off.  Worrying about the relationship has been difficult, too.  I'm unhappy in it, even though I love him. Stress makes me eat like a boa constrictor.   Don't even need to chew, just swallow the restaurant whole.

Jesus.

I need to start meditating.  I really think that's it.

I feel like I just set back two full days of progress. (Because I did)   Yes, I'm going to have to forgive myself and move on, but I need to really pay attention to figure out exactly what makes me do this.  Why am I sabotaging my own progress?  Why don't I say, when faced with the opportunity to make a poor choice, "no, no, we're doing good, let's stay on this?"   There's something I'm not putting my finger on.   I know it's related to stress and anxiety, but I haven't identified the specific thought behind that feeling that leads me to comfort(? reward? pacify?) myself with food when I'm freaking out.  Maybe it's fear that I have to get everything now, because soon there is going to be an Armageddon (figuratively) which makes food and pleasure of any sort scarce.  <-- That's it.  That's the nugget.  Weird as that is.

Anyway.  It's stupid and embarrassing.  And it's not even like this is the type of eating that got me overweight.  This is SO much worse than the eating that put on the pounds.  Ugh.

Well, off to Texas in the morning... Actually, we'll leave in a few hours.  I know it's unlikely I'll make it through this trip with all healthy eating habits, and I've decided THAT is okay.  Dieting on a trip is really hard, and god knows I'm having enough trouble following the right program even without that obstacle, so I'm going to go into this just trying to do as good a job as possible and not wigging out if I have a few calorie-heavy meals.  I'm going to just enjoy the trip and keep it reasonable.  Even following that moderate plan will be difficult in Texas.  Good food is everywhere, and cheap... and nostalgia will make it even more tempting to taste remembered delights.

I'm really ashamed.

I'm going to try to leave my shame here, in this journal entry, in this little word dump.  And go on trying to improve.  I know that's the right thing to do.

UGH.  I'm so sorry, Me.  I deserve to do better and I deserve to get the results from doing better.  Hey, maybe this won't be the last time I do something like this, but it could be.  It could!  Maybe this is the last time I do that.  That's always a possibility.  <3

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