Sunday, March 21, 2010

Addicted to food? Or just weak?

I'm not sure. I do know that I am back to the place in my head where I JUST PROMISED myself I would not allow myself to get back to. The place where the food is calling the shots, driving the bus, making the choices for me. That feels like addiction. Despite my best planning, my best prayers, my best laid intentions, I find myself struggling to right my boat, yet again.

Some tell me to relax. It's hormonal, they say. It's not that deep. You'll get it together, just stay focused. Others tell me to treat this with the same passion and intensity I would use to protect my children. Imagine that eating that first compulsive bite means their little lives, they say. And yet, my gut, my spirit, that voice inside me that tells me what's true (my Higher Power?) says the truth lies somewhere in between.

Truth: I have to just pick myself up, dust myself off and keep going. Bludgeoning myself to death over this misstep isn't going to fix the problem and it may very well give me one more thing I don't feel like feeling for which food could be a quick fix.

Truth: I cannot NOT take it seriously. I have to, at some point, take this whole thing seriously and decide whether I want to be healthy and average (which I am) for the rest of my life, or whether I want to go the next short distance to having the body I always dreamed I could one day have.

Truth: The only person who can get me to the next level is me. And at the end of it all, when it finally clicks in and I make the connection, everything I'm going through, every day like this when I feel like I may never get things back on track, will be an experience I've learned from and one that may help someone else get their very own Dreambody.

'Nuff said. Tomorrow is another day. Hell, I can start my day over anytime I want, so today is another day, for that matter.

I intend to blog daily again, like I did in the beginning, and really chronicle this next phase in my recreation. I'd love to have you join me on the journey.

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