Do Over

...so, the last week? Has been something of a write-off, as far as the diet goes. That's not to say I've gone nuts, but I really haven't been adhering to the rules. I had two pieces of cake on Sunday night, another on Monday, popcorn last night and two peculiar meringue-ish chocolate chip and cherry cookies this morning. The concern isn't so much what I've eaten, but how sustained the lapse has been. I need to stop. I need to take control. And that's...not something I was actually sure I wanted to do. Well, until this afternoon.

I'm in a weird headspace right now. Work stress is part of it, but it's also a convenient scapegoat; the problem goes a little bit deeper. But there is a problem at work, because I am working long hours in a job where I need to be mentally alert the entire time, and the fact that I am also not sleeping properly? Means that I am exhausted all the time and I would be even if I wasn't on a low calorie diet. So, to that end, some slips are probably not unexpected -- though with that said, I could try and supplement my blood sugars with crackers and extra fruit, not sugar-laden bakery goods. So, there's that. And the popcorn was just me being tired with everything; I went to the movies last night and loved it, but I was even later than usual getting out of work and had to rush through dinner to get to the movies on time, so I didn't enjoy it, and then the smell of the popcorn...well, there's a trigger right there for me to be aware of, I suppose. I need to feel like I'm enjoying my food to really get over the meal. Huh.

Still. The cookie thing was a bit stupid; it happened firstly because I made these unusual cookies and when I checked on them this morning (they cook overnight in a turned-off oven), they looked...not right. In a panic I started playing with one, and of course it ended up in my mouth because it was the only way to know. And the damn thing was delicious. It could have ended there, but at work I was so down about everything I had another. Fortunately I called it quits after that, but...I don't know. The good thing, mind you, is that I came home with the desire to make a batch of afghans and devour them all, but that hasn't happened. I've instead enjoyed a lunch of cracked pepper and lemon tuna and then my favourite "pizza" for dinner, so...yeah.

It's a beautiful day here, and I started thinking around four that I could go for a walk. I've actually tried to go walking before while on this diet, but I've been so lacking in energy I've actually been unable to. I then realised I'm chock full of empty calories today, so I got a hat and my iPod and set out into the wilderness. Although I know full well an hour walk isn't going to burn off two cookies, it did do me some good -- it got me out long enough to really think about what's going on. I haven't been thinking much lately, after all; there are too many things going around my head to really think properly about any of them. There's work, of course. My holiday, which is under vague threat because of said work situation. My elder brother and his New Year drama still hasn't been resolved, and it impacts on my living situation. My younger brother is still making drama in his own family life. For some reason I keep flirting with men on a local dating site which both thrills and terrifies me. I can't decide whether or not to do Japanese this semester through the university. I have writing to do that's...not getting done. And I need to start making solid decisions about moving to London, as my sister just offered up a room in her flat from June, so...yeah. I'm overwhelmed, and the diet seems to be the first thing to go.

I think it's also because I am scared. Quite what I am scared of, I don't know. But I look at photographs of myself and...don't recognise that girl. Or that woman. I mean, I'm a size ten these days; the last time I clearly remember being anywhere near this was being a size eight at twelve. And because I've been a fatty since I was fourteen, I've never been pretty. I've always been shy. So...having people take notice of my appearance makes me incredibly self-conscious and over-anxious even though it's not a bad thing anymore. They like how I look! And yet I am still scared. But then I'm not; for god's sake, I dared other people to dare me to buy a Lara Croft costume, and not only did I buy it? I tried it on AND posted a picture of that to facebook. I just...I still see myself as fat. But then, I'm not. But then I am, because my BMI is still in the overweight range. So...that seems to be my stumbling block right now. I can't seem to control myself long enough to get under 62kg. It's a scary place for me to be, and it seems to be because that's where I am "normal." And I haven't been normal in a long, long time.

So...yeah. I've spent all week in a haze, and though I've been following the diet otherwise I keep having these sweet things and sabotaging myself. I have to stop, because as I walked around this afternoon I realised that I'm not at the end yet. I have more work to do. And I do still want to do it. I just...yeah. I don't know. So many things, going around in my head. And I am not going to be following the diet in two weeks time because of my holiday, which could be both very good and very bad, depending on how I treat it. But I have learned that I do crave good food -- the sweet things are one problem, sure, but I don't want to run out the door and eat takeaways. I want gourmet food. I want a good meal at a restaurant, not a paper bag stuffed full of McDonald's. And really, in the end? I can behave better in a decent restaurant anyway, when it comes to food choices. So...yeah. But that costume? It fits. But it told me that there's more work to be done, and I think maybe I am ready to get working again.

In the meantime, I need to go and get some sleep. As I said, I haven't been sleeping anyway, and for once I don't have work in the morning. The walk also exhausted me anyway, so...I might read a bit, then have a long hot shower, and then tuck myself up in bed. I'm not weighing myself tomorrow. I know from looking in the mirror that I haven't undone sixteen weeks of work, and the scales are just going to demoralise and undermine what I need to teach my eyes to see. It's not a time for numbers right now. It's a time for faith. And here I am, renewing that faith. I have got this far. Now I need to get up off my knees, dust off the dirt of my stumble, and walk ever onward.

Here we go.