Monday, April 14, 2014
I'm not one of them. For the first two weeks after my son was killed in Nov. 2013, I had no interest in food and lost five pounds. Then my appetite returned. Now I can't stop eating. It's like I'm on some kind of self destructive path that I can't get off. I'm gaining weight like crazy. The grief I'm experiencing is unrelenting. Always there. Nothing can take it away. Junk food helps, for a short while. Then the guilt and depression set in again. Today after an eye-opening trip to my scales, I decided to do two things differently. The first was to get on the treadmill and walk for 30 minutes, this has already been accomplished as I write this blog entry. The second was to track my intake today, eating less. This is in progress. I can't make any promises about tomorrow. Just that I will do these things today.