Yesterday, I managed to do ok on the food front, though the 8 pieces of sushi I had for dinner was probably a bit much :)
I am a daily weigh-er, which really works for me except for once in a blue moon when it doesn't. I know how my body works, and I know how I lose, and I never ever count slight up-ticks within 2 lbs because I KNOW it isn't real gain. I only count new lbs lost and this has worked great for me on all levels.
Except once in a blue moon when it doesn't.
So today, after my crappy attitude yesterday and my 2 weeks full of drinking lots of empty calories, I step on and I see 195.0.
Now, for the past couple of days I've been seeing 194.6 or so, so this is no big deal, and clearly within my usual variation. But I let it get to me enough that I didn't put it on my dry-erase calendar, where I have tracked every day since the month before surgery. And then I went into the kitchen and made a pancake for breakfast (uh, I typically low carb). I didn't eat much of it, but the point was that I was deliberately sabotaging myself because I just didn't care DAMNIT!
Then, over the morning, I developed a super strong craving for a hamburger-- with bun (because without the bun, that's totally within my allowed foods and wouldn't be a splurge, you see?). And I decided that I should also get some kind of dessert to follow it. Chocolate chip cookies would be best but I'd settle for ice cream.
So I hop in the shower to get ready to go out. And I hop out and see my scale, and because I'm in a self-hating sabotage party, I decide to hop on again to torture myself. And it says 193.6.
So I move it to a different spot on the floor and step on again. And it says 193.6. This was my previous low weight that I've been bouncing trying to break through.
Well, you might think I'd be happy to see that the early morning uptick was a fluke. And I was! But I had also completely talked myself into the hamburger by this point and I decided I should just cave in, get it (but no dessert), and then put it behind me.
So I go out and right next to my favorite hamburger place is the Thrift Store. I go into the store to look around and right away see a brand new pair of Jones New York dress pants for $4. They are a size 10, but I decided that they were super nice and I'd be able to wear them by fall. I buy them, go next door, get a hamburger AND onion rings (uh, yeah), and take it home to eat it. I ate most of the hamburger and half of the onion rings. They were delish, by the way. Then I decided to torture myself post-binge by trying on the pants to see how far they were from fitting.
They fit. Buttoned, zipped, fit snug but no wriggling required to get it done.
WHAT? Ok, so they are clearly mutant size 10's that someone must have donated to the thrift store because they bought them thinking they'd fit and found they were too big. I know I'm not really in a size 10 because not even all size 12's fit me yet. But I DON'T CARE. Because this was my body (through the power of God) giving me a message about my stupid self-pity induced food orgy.
It was thoughtless and ridiculous. And if I want to weigh 293 lbs again, I should just keep that crap up.
I got schooled, ya'll.