panic

I originally made it through lunch without excess and as I walked back to the office I started to think about how I should pop my head back up out of my pit and post about it. I thought a little about how ridiculous my story is – triumph followed by crash, rinse and repeat – but those thoughts didn’t stop me, I still felt OK, a glimmer of control and positivity. What did stop me however, was the thought that if I post, I can’t binge this afternoon. That single thought sent shivers of panic through me and I practically ran out of the lift to the cookie jar.

Food has once more become my crutch. It’s not even a very good crutch, I’ll be the first to admit. But the idea of taking it away seems horrific to me. Logically I know it might only take a few days of fighting this discomfort before I gain momentum and build up strength again, but I’m not getting there anytime soon.

I’ve ballooned back up to 99kg, I look tired and bloated. Babies are back off the agenda, I’m unhappy and very lonely (both of which I know are in my head and my doing, people have reached out to me but I’m unable to come forward, I don’t know how to right now). I’m still spiralling and I don’t know how to short circuit it.

I’m still away on business and my work is suffering badly. This in turn is affecting my insecurity as I know I’m letting myself and my client down with a substandard effort. I need a break but I’m not sure that in my current state of mind, annual leave at home on my own is going to be the best course of action. I get to go home on Wednesday night and won’t have to travel again until at least a week. I have a meeting with my manager this Friday and plan to ask that I don’t have to travel again for as long as possible. It might be a career-limiting request but I’ve learned I’m just not suited to it, this is the 9th week out of the last 11 I’ve been away from home (though moving house in the middle has only compounded matters).

My goal for the week is to have 2 good days. That's all my new trainer asked of me at the weekend when I showed up 2 kilos heavier than when I'd met him for the first time just the week before. Today was to be one of those days. He said for me to plan intentionally which days to aim for so I didn't run out of week. Of course in my perfectionist-thinking head, I was only paying lip-service to just two silly days, no e-v-e-r-y day was going to be perfect, two days just seemed silly and too forgiving of the other 5... see how All or Nothing tips the balance for Nothing every time!