Wednesday, July 20, 2011
I reviewed my food log from yesterday - breakfast 240; lunch 300; dinner 400; snacks 1600 whoa- WHAT???
I knew I was going to a relatives home for dinner and tried to plan accordingly all day. Something happens to me when I walk in that home. It is a very small comfortable home filled with oversized comfy furniture. I know where all the goodies are kept. And have a habit of opening the refridg door for no reason other than to take a quick inventory. Even if I dont allow myself in the kitchen, its so small that I can see from every chair in the house, what goodies are available on the breakfast bar - and there are always goodies on the breakfast bar.
This is a loving but very dangerous home for me.
Despite my repeated requests to not leave snacks and junk food on the breakfast bar, that is exactly where they are.
At one point after dinner I moved over to the couch (to get away from the table) and while I was talking about moving stresses, I watched the host quietly cut up another couple of brownie squares and then cut those in halves.
They walked the plate over to where I was sitting. It was a very pretty way to display 2 more brownies, now neatly cut up into 8 smaller bite size "baby brownies" if you will.
They looked adorable! How much harm can be in a "baby brownie" afterall...
I unconvincingly said (even to myself) "please dont put those by me." as I calculated the distance from me to the plate and thinking a cup of milk would be perfect.
As I continued to talk about work and mortgage stresses while watching the clock to go to an evening meeting that I really didnt want to go when I felt a wonderfully comforting sensation in my mouth. HMMMMM chocolate.
"There now," I heard the cells of my body say, "that wasnt so bad, was it"
It was just a baby quarter of a brownie afterall. I felt calmer. Pop! There goes another one for good measure. Ah, bliss.
Before I knew it, I needed to leave for the meeting and noticed a now empty plate beside me. No crumbs or any evidence that baby brownies were once there.
I said outloud, "you can not bring food like this into my new home. Seriously, I ate all of them" I heard myself say it. I saw them nod in agreement but we both knew it was a farce.
I felt and feel so defeated.
Food has this crazy control over me and I let it. I can manage my intake all day, but put the tiniest- or baby brownie portion of temptation in front of me and I cave.
I need better support skills. I need to learn to support myself even when the best intentions of others do not.