The sun is shining and it’s a beautiful day. But even if it were pouring down rain outside, I would see only blue skies and rainbows! Today, I weigh a mere 242 pounds! I am as low as I’ve been in a year. Since March 6, 1988, I’ve lost forty pounds. That’s about one-fourth of what I needed to lose on that dreary March day of 1988. At this point, though, losing forty pounds would be over one-third of what I need to lose.
I get a kick out of Weight Watchers “diet desserts.” I am on a diet not an “eat-it”! I am not eating cheesecake. Or chocolate mousse. I don’t deserve them. I’ve already had my share of such richness, such sweetness, to last the rest of my life. Seriously, I have. I must pay the price first, and then, perhaps, just maybe, I can occasionally afford the calories of desserts.
My biggest weakness during the past two weeks has been my failure to stick to my food list. My main emphasis on improving my diet program for the next week will be to stick exactly to my daily, preplanned menu. I haven’t been eating too much, but often I have substituted this food for that food. I need to experience the discipline of eating what I say I’ll eat, of doing what I say I’ll do.
Several times in the last fifteen days, I have come face-to-face with extraordinary temptation. Many times, Sue Land has dropped off more goodies from work: brownies, cookies, carrot cake, chocolate cake, and poppy seed cake. One day, I grabbed a brownie and started to unwrap it. With trembling fingers, I nearly clawed off the plastic covering, thinking, “What would one little brownie hurt?” At that point, I think the prayer for strength I’d uttered that morning kicked into gear, and I heard a resounding “No!” scream out in my brain. I took a deep breath and thought for a second, “Why am I about to eat this?” And — sigh — I put the brownie down. After only thirty seconds, I was safe. It no longer tempted me. I believe God was with me in that moment when I needed my hands slapped.
Another day, overcome by an instantaneous urge, I had a piece of cake partway to my mouth when a bolt of willpower filled my whole being. I dropped the cake and hurriedly ran out of the kitchen. I was afraid not to. I rushed into my bedroom, listened to my day tapes for a few minutes, and returned to sanity. Then I was fine. I was strong. I laughed at that piece of cake instead of eating it.
I need to talk to myself daily: “Come on, Rose. Don’t eat it. None of it is on your menu. Be strong. It’s not worth it. You want to go to your reunion. You can do it.” By preparing myself beforehand, I can meet any challenge. I should solicit help. Tell Allen, tell the children: “I can’t have any of this. Help me. Sue Land brought three pizzas today. Make sure they’re still all here at dinnertime.” I should do whatever I have to do. I must never forget: “Hello, I’m Rosemary. I’m a foodaholic.”