red alert, red alert... you have crossed into the danger zone

It's only a pound or two, so you promise yourself you'll do better tomorrow. When tomorrow never comes and those one or two pounds become three or four you rationalize that it really isn't all that bad since you're still a wonderful pound under your goal weight - the weight you never really imagined you'd ever get to again, let alone surpass it and keep it off for a year. But when that rationalization fails and you find yourself one disgusting pound over your goal weight... it's a RED ALERT moment. There's absolutely NOTHING you can say to make that lowly pound (or the other three or four on top of it) be alright.

I'm ashamed to admit all systems are in RED ALERT status for me. I'm so freakin' embarrassed that I've ignored all the warning signs. How on earth could I have not already learned my lesson from the past? Or do I just not care?

Of course I care, or I wouldn't be here airing my secret dirty laundry. Right?

So what am I missing? I've got plenty of excuses I can give - winter weather so less physical movement, meds are off again, stress over things I have no control over. They all work, and individually are all truly part of the problem. But that doesn't make them excuses. It makes them action items. Things that need to change.

My future is very uncertain right now and I'm heading straight into that brick wall I've hit so many times before. I need to find the brakes, and quick. I'm just not sure I have it in me, again.

Ouch! I Fell Off the Wagon

This weekend has been awful. Not in the sense that anything really bad has been happening. It's basically just been like any other weekend. Except for it's the first weekend since trying to take better care of myself that I've had the kid at home with me too. Not sure that really has anything to do with it, but maybe it does.

Friday night was pretty much uneventful since I was up at the butt crack of dawn Friday morning. I pushed myself to stay awake until around 11:30pm in hopes that I'd actually sleep past 5am. It worked. I was up at 6:15am instead. {sigh}

On Saturday we did the semi-usual routine around here. Straightened up, did some laundry (only one load since the dryer is out and I had to borrow the neighbor's), then hit Costco and Walmart to stock up for the month. We goofed around the rest of the afternoon and evening, but by the time I put the kiddo to bed I was bouncing off the walls. Literally. All I wanted to do was jump in the car, crank up the tunes to ear deafening levels and drive............. FAST. That obviously wasn't an option with the little man upstairs sleeping, so I tried goofing off on the computer a bit. Ran into Groove online and spewed my craziness for awhile. When I could see it wasn't helping, and fearing I'd ruin his evening if I kept whining, I said g'nite and plopped in front of the TV.

Something he said, though, kept resonating within. Self loathing? I didn't feel like I was trapped like that last night, though I'm the first to admit I do suffer from that more often than I care to admit. It was more of a trapped feeling. Like I couldn't shut off my brain, wanted to get out of the house, and basically felt like a caged animal. Not a good feeling. I tried having a few drinks, and even tried taking a hot shower. Didn't help. So what did I end up doing? Stuffing Ding Dong's down my throat... at 10:30pm... then going to bed. Great!!

To top it off I haven't exercised all weekend, have been really bad about my water intake, ate the wrong foods, and suffered a minor migraine yesterday. Only one thing seems to sate me anymore. Not talking on the phone. Not being on the computer. Not watching TV. Not hanging out with the kid. Not drinking. Not smoking. Just eating.

I know it's not hunger, it's boredom and restlessness and frustration all rolled into one. Like I told Groove I feel like I'm borderline ADD. No amount of stimulation seems to be enough. I look for outlets like reading, cleaning, video games, puzzles, but none of them helps either. So I go day to day, from one thing to the other, without any sense of accomplishment, fulfillment, or excitement and end up turning to the one thing that's always been my fall back. Food.

I didn't even want to sit and write last night. But I've spent the majority of the day thinking about it, prepping myself to fall into the same trap tonight even though the bruises from last night haven't healed.

It Was One of Those Nights

Do you ever feel like someone else is at the master controls of your life, sitting behind the curtain flipping switches without warning and laughing hysterically to themselves at your actions? That's what life's like being an emotional eater. And let me tell you something. It pretty much sucks!

Last night was one of those nights for me. Day two on this week's emotional rollercoaster of life. And I plunged to the bottom. Then crashed. Literally.

The past two days have been full of extreme highs (finally moving my arse, getting a new computer & finding "forgotten money" on-line) and lows (being yelled at by my mother & hung up on by the ex). And in between there's been laughter, anger, tears, and apathy. Emotions I've grown used to over the years but somehow still can't seem to balance. They mess with my mind. Disrupt my sleep pattern. And worst of all, send me into an unconscious eating frenzy.

I didn't eat dinner with my son last night because he was out to dinner with his dad. Apparently this was enough of an excuse to my pitiful lack of self control to wait until after he went to bed to finally eat. I was good. A well balanced, portion controlled dinner. Shortly after, the sinking feeling I get when I've eaten too late, and when I'm tired. Emotionally tired. I rummaged through the pantry looking for anything to sate myself. Numb myself, maybe.

It wasn't until I was a third of the way through the bag that I realized what I was doing, but by then it was too late. The damage was done. I was tired. Physically, emotionally and mentally. I was sick. Sick to my stomach - not only for having eaten too much, but for losing what little control I seem to have over my choices.

And I crashed.

I'm disgusted.