I find myself on track.
Thursday night I succumb to a slight craving and tumble off the wagon. But I'm still partially hanging on. Hanging on enough that Friday I start the day on track. Telling myself that I can do it.
And I do until....
I talk to a family member on the phone. A family member who is struggling with life right now. A family member that I wish I could be closer to, to help. To support. I fall into a sadness.
And I binge.
I binge because in my mind it makes me feel better. When really it just makes things worse. And I know this, I just can't stop it.
Saturday - Sunday
Totally off track.
Eating anything and everything in sight. Because now, at this point, what good does it do to get back on track when I know that I'm just going to fall off again due to someones sadness. That I make my own. It's a horrible cycle that I cannot break. No matter how hard I've tried, no matter how much I've told myself it's not good.
For the self esteem.
For the body.
So today is Monday. And I'm nearly 10 pounds heavier than I was a few weeks ago. And I can feel it. My clothes don't fit. I'm tired, lethargic. And I don't care.
But I really want to care.
So I pull myself back on the wagon and tell myself that this is the week - for real this time. This is the week that I'm going to stick to my plan, and exercise and make some headway on this weight that I need to lose. For good. And I start off on the right foot.
Tucking those damaging thoughts that do nothing for my willpower away somewhere in the folds of my brain hoping that nothing gets in my way this week.
Hoping that for real this time;
I can do it.
I've got to break the cycle.