Light Bulb

You know what, I've been sitting here feeling murderous and vile and like I could chew down the walls, and it occurs to me that the truth is that I'm a little disappointed in myself. I've been in a rotten mood all weekend due to some personal issues/privacy issues and I used it as an excuse to treat myself. I managed to go from 175 to 235 pounds in a few years by "treating" myself, and I am not going to let that happen again. Food and privacy are intimately acquainted in my head. When I'm alone I eat (and sometimes binge) and when I haven't had ENOUGH time alone I eat because I feel out of control. I am exactly the kind of overweight person stereotyped by being a geeky reader and writer. And that part of me is not going to change, because that's the me I love and that's my soul - I just want to throw in enough activity to be able to enjoy what I do without it killing me.

And this weekend I felt sorry for myself and gave myself license to treat my pain and crankiness with food, and while it wasn't a binge in any sense of the word, it was still a slide back into habits that I have worked very hard to identify and change. So it's tough love time for me. I am ready to kick my own butt again this week.

And you know what? Even typing that makes me feel better.