Thirty steps forward, a giant leap back

Let me preface this post by saying that everything I wrote yesterday is true, and everything I started writing for today is true too. See below:

I stood on a thin sheet of glass this morning waiting for a number to assess my body and congratulate me on all the hard work I've done. It was like one of those encounters with your husband when you know exactly what you want him to say, what he should say (and he should know to say too!), but he fails to utter any words that even remotely resemble what you want to hear. The number materialized, and the scale just laughed; my heart fell.

"That's it? That's all I've lost?!" I shouted. The numbers cycled through pounds, body fat %, bone density; all taunting me.

And then I decided, "Bullshit." I would not let a ridiculous number negate all of the victories won in the last month. The looser fitting clothes, the increased energy, the happiness; those are mine to claim and flaunt. Just because the number on the scale isn't where I think it should be doesn't mean I'm not a bad ass with a hot ass. I saw only one problem in the equation so I got rid of it. I dumped my scale. Sentenced it to burn in the fiery incinerators of the land fill.

Now let me say this:
I am freakin’ losing it! I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I am unraveling at the seams. The happy mood, smiles, and confidence- gone. My brain is a bloated tick, overstuffed with manic thoughts, and something pinches it, waiting for it to burst. For the last several days I’ve experienced a dire need for chocolate. The longer I go without it the more the agitation and irritation builds inside me. Just one hit is all I need.


Incase you couldn't visualize it well enough on your own.

I imagine biting into a square of 70% cacoa. My saliva caresses it and coaxes it to shed its solid form and get comfortable with my taste buds. The chocolate wraps her silky arms around my tongue, and I feel the excitement, the relief, rush to my brain, down my spine, and out to my fingertips. My entire body relaxes. My breath deepens. Just one hit, and I’m soothed.

Is it the sugar dragon attacking with renewed force now that the Whole30 is over? Am I just having major pms issues? Is the anxiety of letting go of the structure and rules of the Whole30 overwhelming my brain? I have no idea, but there is a silent rage gurgling inside, and I’m scared for the poor soul that crosses me at the wrong place and time.

I must admit, I binged again last night. Two binges in three days. That discourages me. I thought I had those old habits and patterns trumped. I didn’t consume any off plan foods during the binge, except for honey (and, boy, was that honey delish). I don’t feel particularly bad physically this morning, but my face is bloated, and I’m pissed at myself. I could have stopped at any moment last night. I was conscious of every bite and the increasing discomfort in my distended gut, but the bingeing habit is a beast to override. It requires earth, fire, water, wind, heart, AND Captain Planet to defeat.

My knee jerk reaction is to beat myself up. Ed chimes in calling me a fool and a failure. But I’ve got to tune him out. I have to take a step back and look at the big picture. I just spent 30 days consuming only whole foods. Not a single processed item touched my lips, nor did any added sugars. Sure, I binged twice in three days. I’m not proud of it, but I still succeeded in completing the Whole30. These two setbacks cannot erase everything I accomplished. They remind me that I’m not invincible, even after a perfect Whole30. It takes a long time to dig up the gnarled roots of deep-seated habits. It requires several baby steps forward and a few stumbles back.

That doesn’t mean it’s easy or fun. In fact, it down right pisses me off. But I’ll get over it. I’ll level out and find my centered, happy place again and keep plugging along. Because that’s life; that’s what we have to do.

Ok, enough of my pouting. I’m standing back up, dusting myself off, and finding a good song to get me back in the groove. Let me know how you’ve done, lovies. Brag about your successes or rant away. I’m always here to listen.