The slow and steady decline

If for no other reason than to stop having to see the non-word "supah" in the title of my last post - which was a full month ago, I'm finally feeling like reinserting myself into the blogosphere.  I've been reading my faves and commenting occasionally, but emotionally I've been on a roller coaster of the self-induced kind.  Whoever first said, "Our misery is generally 97% of our own making" was a wise soul indeed.  I've felt out-of-control with self care and thus my self respect has been lower than a snake's belly.  Old shame has been percolating, rendering me vulnerable to even more bad choices regarding self care.

Things at work, home, family life, friends, AA - you know, the surface stuff - have been fine.  But in my own little world, I've been struggling with old behaviors (read: bingeing) for awhile.  I haven't done well really all summer with keeping my food in check.  And of course I didn't write honestly about it here because I was certain I could get a hold of it and turn things around.  What a crock'o'crap.  I'd been relying on my old faithful "Scale Roulette" as a means of "controling" my eating.  If the scale was up a couple of pounds, I tried to rein in my after work and after dinner eating.  When the scale dropped back down the couple of pounds to the less but still horrific # of around 210, I'd relax a bit and fall back into the "eating whatever isn't nailed down" tactic.  Realize this was basically all summer long when wrote here I was doing okay but could be doing better.  Liar liar pants on fire...

In September I tried not buying much in the way of junk food and highly processed stuff as a means of helping control myself.  Well.  It's amazing how creative I can get about concocting bad food choices from relatively few blatantly bad "foods".  Think healthy whole wheat bread with ice cold butter sort of sliced into thin pats to cover the surface and eating that - delicious.  So good in fact, that I'd go back for another.  This while virtuously avoiding peanut butter.  I'll spare you the details, but Scale Roulette got harder, and the required weigh-ins to play the game became fewer and farther between. 

About a week before before we left for California, I white knuckled some semblance of "improved" intake and managed to get down to a lithe 208 before we flew out on September 30th.  (Like 208 is my goal!)  I was relieved that I was back in reasonable territory for the trip.  Good grief.  While there, we literally ate 3 meals a day out - lots of good stuff, but also lots of bad choices (for me - not my skinny husband or skinnier son).  Not to mention a few clandestine forays to local grocery stores or Starbucks for scones, M&Ms (which I honestly don't usually like that much).  It was vacation, and I knew I was "probably" going to gain a few pounds, but figured I'd get back on track (you know, the track I hadn't been on in months) and get it off once home.  By far the worst day was the flight home - 2 stopovers before landing in Philly, so a long day in airports, all equipped with various and sundry eateries of questionable nutritious purveyance.  Over the course of that day, I had 2 different Starbucks scones, 2 different fast-food meals (which I literally hadn't had in several years...one at McD's, one at Burger King - both with fries but NO SHAKES because I was being careful!)...and other assorted candy, cookies (Biscoffs on the flights - I might surrender an arm for a lifetime supply of those)...just totally out of control.

The first morning home, I stepped on the scale after mentally preparing myself for a "possible" gain  (I just laughed out loud as I wrote that!).  What to my wondering eyes should appear but the number 215.8, the highest I'd been since starting this blog.  The date was October 9th, and I immediately set out to turn it around.  But I couldn't.  I'd do well for several hours each day, obsessing all the way about what I couldn't shouldn't mustn't eat, and eventually succumb.  I did get down to 212.4 after the first week, but never got on the scale again until Wednesday, the 26th, last week.  In those days prior to weighing, I was really kind of crazed.  I bought big bags of little packs of Brach's candy corn (for trick or treaters), thinking I'd have 2 little bags each night.  More like 8-10, which probably totalled 80 candy corn - after other late afternoon and evening junk.  I knew I was out of control - a terrible feeling - but I couldn't stop and began to get scared that I was never going to be able to rein myself in again.  I felt pretty desperate and depressed, and getting dressed in the mornings was becoming a huge nightmare because everything was tight.

I could go on describing this - and already have for too long.  Finally last Wednesday I weighed myself and saw 215.8 again.  It shocked the shit out of me and I knew I couldn't continue. 

**This is where I stopped writing yesterday at work (Monday) and was never able to return.  I'll continue now but am going to post this first part of my neverending story's next chapter.**