Thursday, May 16, 2013
Slowly I've begun to realise that I have my own version of that old chestnut "Calories from broken cookies don't count." In my case, it's: "Food that I haven't logged doesn't count." You can bet that a day that I didn't log my food is a day that I did some comfort eating. At first I thought this was just me hiding my head in the sand - and that's part of it. But it's not the whole story. Not logging is not only about hiding my shame, but it's about turning away from my dream of being the best, most fun me I can be. And now that I have realised that, I can do things differently and better. Does that make sense or is it just so much psycho-babble?
When do I comfort eat? Well, it's pretty predictable, really. I do it when I'm tired because I haven't slept properly. (Last night was my worst ever: I slept less than two hours.) When do I not sleep properly? Nine times out of ten, it's because I've taken on (by osmosis, seemingly) my Mister's stress from his high powered job. (I never wanted to be Mrs High Powered Job, by the way. Not into it.) All well and good to say to myself, "Don't do that," but in practice, that's a lot easier said than done.
The good news is that this taking-on-his-stress->not-slee
ping->comfort-eating used to be my every day reality, considerably slowing my recovery but NO LONGER. Now it's more like a once a week occurrence. And when I comfort eat, as I did last night, it's on much healthier foods in much, much smaller quantities.
And starting yesterday, I'm logging everything no matter what. That's a gift I'm giving myself.
One more thing: no matter what, I keep exercising, and loving it! It's so empowering to go for a paddle in the pool when previously I would have zoned out in front of the TV.
This isn't the world's most upbeat entry, but it's an honest one and, I think, there is plenty of progress to see.
I - we - can love ourselves through this.