Our weekend trip was really great. It was easy travelling, the concert was fabulous, and our time with Mark's family was relaxing and enjoyable.
I did pretty well as far as eating went. No sugary stuff at the concert or hotel, and we had a healthy dinner of grilled chicken, salad, and strawberries on Saturday night.
I also woke up at 6:30 am on Saturday morning & did 3.1 miles on the hotel treadmill. I was happy about that, and even though I'd only gotten 5 1/2 hours of sleep, it felt great that I got up and worked out. I think it helped shape my food choices all day, too.
I didn't have birthday cake Saturday night. It was just a plain old cake, and I'd already had some last weekend and didn't feel the need to eat it. Also, our nephew-in-law made fabulous decaf lattes after dinner, and I'll take one of those over cake any day.
Last night was tough, though. Mark is having his own case of The Afters, mostly over turning 49 yesterday, which he didn't handle well. That transferred to me, and I could feel the anxiety and fear building in me all night. I had driven 4 hours yesterday; I unpacked and put everything away and started laundry (which is a big deal for me, usually I leave things in a suitcase for a week after a trip). I kept busy all afternoon & early evening, but instead of relieving me of anxiety, it exhausted me.
I read a novel to relax after the kids went to bed, and fell asleep around 10 pm-- on the couch. Mark was in the bedroom snoring loudly, and I was also in avoidance mode. I had done all I could for him but he was still coping badly, and I didn't want to deal with it any more. So I stayed in the family room.
Sleeping on the couch is deadly for me. I know this. I chose to avoid, and then fell into a mini-binge of two bowls of cereal at 1 am while I watched True Blood.
I knew it was coming, I thought off and on all night about how I could avoid the After, and I was just too tired to do anything about it.
It's not the end of the world, and I'm back on track this morning and made sure to weigh and didn't bury my head in the sand. I am not beating myself up, but I am examining what happened and trying to figure things out for next time.
This is not new territory, I realize. But I am looking at it from the perspective of eating whole foods for five weeks, which makes me clearer mentally and emotionally, and I'm trying to figure out what it is about the night binging that is so hard for me to give up in times of avoidance.
The questions I've been asking myself:
is it okay to get numb when I don't want to feel the fear and anxiety? or do I have a duty to myself to work through the fear and anxiety and feel it, instead of numbing it?
and if it's okay to get numb, is it okay to use food? and if it's not okay to use food, then what do I do?
and if it's not okay to get numb, then how do I cope when I feel like I have no energy reserves left to do anything else?
I don't have good answers yet, other than I intuitively feel that if I want to heal completely, I can't use food to escape. Saying it's okay to binge when I "need to" would be like telling an alcoholic she can have some drinks when she feels the need to escape.
I also expect that I will always have times when I feel like this but don't have the energy to deal, no matter how much I prepare for them. I guess that's when the food-alternative strategies need to come into play.
Now I need to figure out what those strategies might be.