Keep on keeping on.

I'm writing this so that people can see that sometimes it's hard and that I don't always have my shit together and I am human.  No bragging.  I DO work hard, but sometimes I have hiccups.

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So, NY was great and I will write more about it later, but it was bad food-wise.  I went into this whole vacation telling myself that I would eat what I wanted to and I wouldn't feel bad about it.  I really clamped down on eating well before we left so that, even if I DID gain weight while there, it would be ok.

Only, it was bad.

I ate a LOT more than I thought I would and I fear even knowing what I did to my blood sugar.  I guess I worried about that, only I didn't, because I still ate shit.

And, you guys, I gained NINE pounds.  In one week!  Who does that?

Me.

***

And it was ok, I told myself.  And it has been.  I lost those nine pounds since I've been home.

But?  It has been so hard and I have been crying a lot.  It seems that, since I've been home, it's been harder than ever before.  Maybe I am just sad because it was SO GOOD eating all of those things I hadn't eaten in a while.  And it WAS.  I mean, seriously?  It was awesome.  I love food.  A lot.  And Red Lobster?  Holy shit, it was delicious.  I disgusted myself a little but, but it was worth it, not gonna lie.

So.  It's been hard keeping my shit together since I've been home.  And the other day, it was just almost impossible.  I know it's easy to say, "Just don't eat it.  Just stick to your diet.  It's worth it in the end!"  And it certainly IS worth it.  Aside from having my girls, there has been nothing so satisfying, nothing that has made me so proud of myself, nothing that has given me so much confidence, as losing this weight and knowing that I did it on my own.

***

Only, sometimes you have a buy one get one free coupon for a Quarter Pounder with Cheese from McDonald's.  And sometimes you use that coupon telling yourself, "I'll eat one now and save the other for another day.  I mean, I can fit that into my eating plan.  No big deal."

Only, then you eat it.  And then you eat the other one.  And then you eat some fries.

And then you want to cry and vomit it all up, because you are so disappointed in yourself and in your self-control and in the fact that you just ate A HALF A POUND OF SHIT.

But you don't.

You get yourself over the hump.  You get your shit back together.  You tell yourself it's ok.  It's not that you deserve it (because you don't), but it's ok because it's over and you can start again.

***

We can ALWAYS start again, you guys.  It's what we do best.  It's accepting you fucked up and moving on.

And that is NOT EASY.  And it doesn't make you weak or a fuckup or a loser who can't do anything right.  It makes you human.

I'm still having a hard time keeping it together.  I know I just need to get through the next few weeks because it IS starting over in a way.  It seems almost insurmountable.  It seems hopeless and scary and so fucking SAD.  I am so angry that I have to watch every single thing that I put in my mouth.

But I will.  I'll do it.  I HAVE done it.  It's going to be ok.

***

But you guys?  Those Quarter Pounders were SO GOOD.

***