Monday was Halloween, a frightful day to resume dieting. I had eaten only an apple and a little beef jerky. Suddenly, shortly before going to bed, the old time bomb exploded! Within two minutes, I had stuffed into my mouth a piece of chocolate zucchini bread and three of my baby’s candy bars. Yup, I stole from my two-year-old’s Halloween candy. Unbelievable! At least I had enough sense to quickly leave the kitchen.
The next day, I was great, except for a momentary, crazy three seconds when I stuffed another piece of chocolate zucchini bread into my mouth. I almost choked on it! Yet I already knew from eating a piece the night before that I didn’t like it! You figure it!
Like a breath of fresh air, yesterday I was perfect. I’m going to do it! I feel superhigh. Even though yesterday was the pits emotionally, I didn’t eat one forbidden thing. I’m trying to make myself consciously think, “Why? Why should I let anger, hurt, or frustration drive me to eat?”
Today I weighed in at 238! Wonderful! Yet disgusting because I still have 113 pounds to go. But at least I want to keep more of me than I want to lose. I’m ecstatic. If I could only put feeling into words, why this very paper would become a song or a flower and dance around like a spirited nymph or fairy.
To think that next summer I can swim with my family, I can run races with my children, I can participate in sports, I can climb stairs, I can bend over. Why, I can even raise my husband’s eyebrows again! Oh, the million and one things I’ll be able to do!