Darn

I didn't post last night because I was darning socks. The sock I was wearing sprung a hole at the big toe (guess my toenail rubbed against it from all the walking I did shopping yesterday), plus I had two "holy" socks waiting to be repaired on top of my dresser. SO I sat down with my needle, thread in matching colors and sat down with Hubby to watch the end of "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire." I'm a big HP fan, and I'm hoping he doesn't meet his demise in Rowling's last novel in the series.

The other reason I didn't post was because I was not only darning socks, but "darning" myself, too. My Weekend Game Plan didn't go so well.

Darn.

In my defense, both days started okay. I didn't exercise on my treadmill or gym, but I did wind up spending a good bit of my time both afternoons walking around stores shopping for a new bedroom suit for my daughter. We finally found one Sunday afternoon that has a great space-saving design, and best of all to her, bunk beds. My breakfasts and lunches were within my usual calorie range and I was fine with that.

Another victory on both days was that even though I was having a serious case of the "I wanna' eats," when we were in stores with tempting binge foods I decided it wasn't worth it and didn't buy anything. On Saturday I went to the grocery store, needing Thanksgiving dinner ingredients, and I told myself that if I saw one thing that really whetted my appetite, I'd "treat" myself. But amazingly, when given permission, I didn't see anything that seemed good enough and left with only the items I needed. I was sort of shocked but a little proud of myself.

On Sunday I even went to the bakery section of Wal-Mart, looking for my favorite cinnamon roll with cream cheese icing. There were none left in the "pick your own" cases, and the only ones they had were in packages of four. I knew I didn't want four, because I knew my compulsive brain would think I needed to eat all four. And since that was the only thing I was craving, I didn't settle for something else in the case and walked away. While I felt bad for having "lustful thoughts," I was glad that I kept myself from committing the actual sin.

However, it seems the urges to eat this past week caught up with me when it came to the evenings. Saturday was our trip to the big city; that night was dinner at the Japanese steak house, and I couldn't resist getting sushi. I adore sushi, but living in the boonies I only get near a place that offers the real thing maybe once or twice a year (those plastic-looking, technicolor pieces of rice and seaweed on the local Chinese buffets just don't cut it). So I definitely indulged on a big old plate of my favorite selections. While I've eaten much more in the past, I definitely am not used to having that much rice in my belly, and I could really feel it. However, that stop me from attacking a bunch of cookies later that evening. Again, these were cookies that were bought in the city that we only get to maybe once a year, so it was another one of those rare indulgences.

Unfortunately, Sunday night doesn't have the "I don't get this often" excuse. I admit it came down to weakness and being tired of fighting off my urges all week. When Hubby asked if we could do his favorite pizzeria for dinner, I didn't argue, and when we got there I didn't even bother to scour the menu for something healthy. I just went with what I was hungry for, and I got it -- pizza. Regular crust, regular cheese, but I did go for veggies because they've always been my preferred topping.

The final straw? I got home and made a beeline for the ice cream. This is ice cream that's been sitting in my freezer for a long time, and while I had some random thoughts about it, last night was the first time I knew some of it was going into my gullet. Was it a binge? In some ways yes, and some ways, no. I was a little sneaky about it, finding a private place in the house to eat it so I wouldn't be disturbed. And the serving I gave myself was fairly large. But I did limit myself to one bowl, stuck the rest of the carton into the deepest recesses of our upright freezer in the garage and had no desire to touch it again.

Darn. I sure wish I had done a better job sticking to my plan this weekend. In some areas I did, but in the end I definitely ate more than I originally intended. The good news is I'm back to the same old routine today; just completed my hour of exercise and planning my healthy food for the day.

Last night as we lay in bed I turned to my husband and said, "Can I ask you what's probably going to sound like a crazy question to you?...When I eat like that, do you think less of me?"

I didn't get the reaction I expected. "This may sound strange, but I actually enjoying watching you eat."

"Why?"

"Because you seem happy. When you're eating less and letting yourself go hungry, you get kind of... pissy. Tonight after we ate you've been laughing and in a good mood, and I like to see that."

I was shocked. A moment passed and he asked, "What do you think about what I said?"

"It makes me kind of sad," I admitted. "I wish I could find something else that makes me happy."

He then said that of course I had other non-food moments of happiness, but I'm still kind of haunted by his observation. I feel bad that when I'm trying to do what I think is for my happiness (losing weight, changing my eating habits), I'm actually making myself and those around me less happy.

Darn.

The truth is this is hard work, exhausting work, and a lot of the time it isn't very fun. But something tells me in the end it will be worth it. And that when I reach a weight I'm content with -- maybe not estactically happy, but one I can live with -- I hope I can find some level of comfort and balance with food. I don't think that place is too far away, hopefully within the coming year.
And when it comes I sure hope I can be a happier person, not only for Hubby, but especially for myself.