I am in major self destruct mode. And it's all emotional/stress/worry/hormones.
Food continues to be my place for solace. And margaritas (only one a night, but I'm so tempted to start having two). And last night I even took a whole xanax to ensure I'd fall asleep and stay asleep. I've not been having to take them lately, and when I do it's usually just a half. But yesterday was a really bad day.
I won't get into the food porn (you're welcome, Debby ;). But obviously it's not been great.
I have been cooking a lot lately. Real meals, like every night. Last night I made a simple chicken cordon bleu that I found from Kraft's website (love their recipes--simple & easy, even though they are generally not low calorie, but they are very homey and comforting). And I also made Roni's Big Simple Cupcakes (chocolate fudge cake mix + can of pumpkin + 2/3 cup water; mix for 3 minutes; bake at 325... how simple is that? They are very moist.) The night before I made Roni's black bean/zucchini wontons, which are also yummy. And this morning I made a pizza baked pasta for some friends of ours who recently had a baby.
I'm starting to feel like a for really reals cook.
Now I just gotta get my mind right and my eating will follow.
The worry is eating away at me (no pun intended). It's a lot of thou shalt not blog about stuff, but just look at the stock market from yesterday and you'll probably be able to figure it out if you know me well.
I didn't feel any better after my Food Fest last night. Obviously, I felt worse when I woke up this morning, all cotton mouthed & bloated. I was determined to weigh, damn the numbers.
And it's not horrible. 6 months ago I'd have been thrilled with 151.6. The problem is that I reached my Happy Weight recently--146 really really agreed with me--and now that I've tasted what it's like to have a sub-30" waist, and thighs that don't strain against my pant legs, and boobs that fit nicely inside 34C's (they fit today, but they are quite voluptuous which is not what I'm going for), it kinda sucks to be back here, 5 pounds heavier.
Sigh. Am I ready to get past the emotional shit I'm dealing with and do The Diet again? How much do I want that happy weight anyway?
I've always said it takes energy to lose weight. Energy that you have to find from somewhere, just for you. Right now my energy is drained away, sucked dry from my body like Tom Hank's character in Joe Vs. the Volcano when he thinks he has a brain cloud and the florescent lights in his oppressive office are suck suck sucking the life out of him (LOVE that movie. One of my all time favorites).
I've not made great food choices today. But I've got my gym bag packed and am planning to run and then take a yoga class while Sophie swims (I did do the weights class Tuesday, and I'm still sore from that. Love it).
Exercise always brings energy back to me. Hopefully it will help me turn a corner, once again.