A week of firsts

I had a week of firsts, starting last Sunday, when I had a baked white (!) potato for dinner. That's quite an accomplishment for me, who normally runs screaming the other way if there are 'unapproved' carbs on my plate. I am now having carbs with each meal and am moving into new territories. It was delicious. Can't believe I can eat a potato.

Another first was the thought that I did not HAVE to weigh myself. I had several days of realizing how scared I was of the impeding Easter holiday at the British Boy's parents. They have a scale and I have always weighed myself there. With my morning check ins, I realized what importance I ascribe to that event. And regardless of what the scale would say, I would either feel elated (If I weighed less) or sad and devastated and feeling like a failure if I weighed more. I asked my mother in law to put the scales away. It was difficult to do, but I am writing this blog whilst we're already at theirs and I have to say, not having a number hovering in the back of my mind is freeing.

I took Tuesday off from work and had a day to recharge my batteries. I did feck all.

Ok, I did less than I would normally try to cram into the day. Breakfast in bed was failed coconut flour pancakes, which I just tore up, topped with fruits and nuts and PB2 sauce.

 

 

It filled me up for a day of going to get my blood test redone, buying wool for knitting and lazing in bed watching a movie. It was a shitty movie, but the main fact is that I was relaxed.

 

On Thursday, I walked to work. I love walking early in the morning on a sunny day, when London is just waking up.

 

 



 

For dinner that night, I had a stir fry of veg and egg to clear out the fridge before the weekend away.

 

 

 

Where is the carbs? Well, I thought it would be a good idea to have my carbs as popcorn. There was that voice in my head questioning if that was in fact a rather stupid idea; that feeling in my stomach of unbalance, which I duly ignored. I ate lots more after that. I really struggled with my food plans (or lack thereof). I intentionally overate on both Wednesday night and Thursday night. On both nights, I was alone at home, had emotional discussions/events either impending or just behind me and I shoved my face with stuff I had not planned on. Emotional eating, anyone? Hell yes. It scared me how powerless I was and how much I ate. I didn't throw up, which is amazing.

 

I had to acknowledge my powerlessness and decided to start texting each meal to my sponsor. Yesterday, for the first time, I feel I totally stuck to my food plan. That's the first I am most proud of.

 

This was my breakfast after I had decided to hand over my food:

 

 

Boiled egg, brown soda bread with butter, orange marmalade and seed butter, cucumber.
 

 

My check in: Yesterday, I loved walking in the quiet, crisp clear morning, hearing the seagulls cry, seeing and feeling the sun and feeling alive and connected. I loved the taste of coffee, the feeling of serenity after acupuncture and of a new day starting.
I overate again last night after a particularly emotionally difficult conversational with a fellowship member. I felt attacked and defensive when she shared how my actions made her feel. I received and still mull over the feedback she shared with me, that I was not emphatic and self centred and tried to control her. As I write this, guilt and shame wash over me. I acknowledge that I had tried to control her and although my intentions were not malicious, they had an upsetting impact on her. I am glad we spoke about it and yesterday, I wrote my hearts desire was for us to stay open and honest friends. At the moment, I don't know how to engage with her, as I was previously trying to help and it was misunderstood. My hearts desire is to know and speak my truth.

For the food, I have asked my sponsor to help me. I am texting her everything I eat, when I eat it.

I am a commitment to balance.