Sunday, December 16, 2012
Well, I wrote last night about planning for a Christmas party challenge. And yes, the good news is that I passed that test with flying colors. One small sparerib with BBQ sauce scraped off as much as possible. Estimated 1.5 oz of skinless grilled chicken breast. Three Little Smokies. One unfrosted tree-shaped sugar cookie. One chocolate covered strawberry. I came home happy and almost 100 calories under my max.
I was pleased as punch, delighted that I'd finally gone to a buffet and not pigged out. I didn't even go near the "munchy" end of the table - all the crackers, chips, and dips. Paul had scoped out the dessert area, and he brought me back that strawberry (a typically romantic gesture). He also told me what my choices would be and where each was located so that I could decide in advance, pick up one cookie, and leave.
Unfortunately, I also came home proud and self-absorbed. I (yes I-I-I!) had done it!!! Did I thank my husband for helping? No. Did I thank God for strength and wisdom when it came to those food choices? No. It was all about me, and there begins the rest of the tale.
I spent all evening in a smug session of self-congratulating. In retrospect, I think that let me consciously and subconsciously spend the evening thinking about food and my super handling of it. So, no, none of us should be surprised that I set myself up for a fall of equally grand proportion.
So Saturday night continued as "normal." I stayed up to pick my adult son up at midnight from work. I got home a bit before 12:30, took the dogs out, sat down for a bit of SparkTime and maybe some reading to unwind and to be in bed within an hour.
Instead, I got out the butter and some English muffin bread to toast. I also fixed myself another holiday treat - eggnog with Southern Comfort. It tasted so good I just went ahead and fixed myself more of each! Now I don't eat white bread, and I certainly don't eat English muffin bread, because I know I will simply slather it with butter. And I couldn't tell you when I last had two drinks in one day. So that was the bad.
And now for the ugly - the stopping eating, going to bed with a too full stomach and a too heavy heart. The waking up knowing I needed to do some major soul-searching. The scariness of knowing that somehow I would need to find the strength to put this out in front of you.
So where do things stand now? I haven't been particularly hard on myself over the binge per se. That was a mistake, pure and simple. And now I just need to start over. But what led to the binge, the emphasis on myself and my good works at the party - that's what I needed to confess to God and to my husband.
Both, of course, have forgiven me. But sin has consequences, and here are some of them. I have to examine where the initial self-centeredness led me. Did I reward myself with food for my good behavior at the party? Did I have a pity party and console myself with comfort food? Did I sabotage myself because success with SparkPeople is in some ways scary as well as exciting?
Yes, yes, and yes.
I also have to figure out what, when, and how I will eat for the rest of the day. I will have to either go over on calories or sacrifice nutrition. I'm opting for the former, but that means all vegetables and no fruit. It means deciding whether to eat some whole grain (a goal) or not be within carbs (also a goal). It means deciding whether to put the healthy fat of olive oil on some salad (a goal) or limit fat severely for the rest of the day to stay within range there (also a goal). And the matter of protein means I need to scrap today's menu plan and seek out my best sources of low-fat, low-carb foods.
But I will also stand tall as a Princess, a daughter of the King of Kings. And I will consider this the first day of the rest of my life.