I really had planned to end my ‘staycation’ (Miz’s apt term for a stay at home vacation) with a nice post about all I had accomplished, how well I was eating, how excellent I was doing with my exercise, and how rested I felt. Then I ran out of time. (I ran out–personal responsibility there!) And I went back to work. And then after a day and a half of work, I got a call from my dad, and there was a bit of a crisis. Which will probably involve an ongoing commitment of time. Just that he and his wife are getting older, and their health is bad, and there will need to be more help, which they need, but don’t want. Yada yada yada…poor me, can’t live my selfish little life anymore.
So yesterday was describing the weekend’s events to a friend, and then said, “you know I felt so good and strong about my eating and my exercising and completely in control, and now I can’t stop eating and I don’t know why”–and as the words came out of my mouth I realized I was eating non-stop because of the stress of dealing with the aging of my parents. But I never once thought over the weekend, ‘I am stressed. I will eat some more.’
I guess that’s how it works. But I am left with the carnage I have done to myself. I won’t even get on the scale until Wednesday. But clothes are tight. I feel like the old me. Sluggish and fat and tired. Top that off with a little depression. Yumm. To give myself credit, I came home yesterday and ate absolutely perfectly. Delicious, nutritious, satisfying food. And I forced myself to take the K9 units for a walk. Not quite as vigorous or as long as usual. But there was a little hiking and a little running.
Boy, it sure is easy to do a swan dive. Just when I thought my problem might be cured (even though I had just written to several people how you could only ‘manage’ a weight problem for the rest of your life…)