I can’t seem to stop eating. I don’t know if it’s for comfort or just a general bear-like impulse to bulk up the winter stores before hibernation, thanks to the descending darkness and general gloom of the season. It’s hard to get out of bed in the mornings. It’s hard not to go back to it when the sun never shows it’s face and it rains for 3 days straight. It’s relatively warm or all this rain would be snow. Anyway, I can’t seem to stop. I hate when I get like this; it feels like it takes a gargantuan effort to smack myself, yell “Snap out of it!” and find my motivation again.
The thing is, I just can’t have snacks in the house. Nothing salty, nothing sweet. When I’m in one of these phases, nothing is safe. It doesn’t help to think, “Okay, I’ll just eat this, then it will be all gone, and I’ll be okay” because there is always something else I can find. Nothing seems to satisfy the craving for long, and I end up feeling bloated and aggravated at myself and my stupid self-sabotage. Why can’t I just nibble on some kohlrabi when I’m in this mood? Why does it have to be bread and fat and salt and sugar answer the call? ARGH.
I’m still going to WW, though I’m dreading it this week. I know I can reverse this trend—AGAIN—if I want to. But apparently I don’t want to, because I keep doing this! I don’t want any advice about any of it, either. I’m just venting at myself. Everything that can be said, has been said. I know. I know, I know, I know.
*sigh*
I’m getting off the computer and going to power-walk on my treadmill until my feet are bloody stumps. RIGHT NOW.