Nearer To Good Than Bad

Well, I’m in a much better frame of mind today, and to the blessed relief of everyone I’ve been driving round the bend, I’ve stopped being a muppet. It’s taken me a week to get my head around the fact that I’m not going to feel better straight away. I’ve also come to realise that not every twinge means it’s all gone wrong. It’s normal to have good days and bad days after surgery, right? Wednesday was the worst day, but yesterday was better.

Stressing about my food plan hasn’t been especially helpful. After my prolonged dalliance with the binge demons, getting back on track would have been hard enough in itself, but doing it in a week where enforced inactivity has ruled out any opportunity to boost my pitiful calorie quota…well. I’ve narrowly avoided eating my own fucking arm.

And I’m still obsessing about Daim cake. I mean, in my repertoire of go to foods it’s up there towards the top of the list anyway but for some reason my head has stalled at the crossroads where I choose to walk either towards it or away from it. So I’m still standing there having the same conversation. I shit you not, it’s like Groundhog Day.

The Asshole voice is lobbying hard.  Look, just go get it out of your system, then you can move on. I’m not going to quit reminding you how that buttery taste will melt on your tongue and make you feel better, and sooner or later you’re going to cave. You know it, and I know it. Why don’t you save us both the trouble and go buy the cake.

I thought it would be easier because I’m stuck in the house, you know? My ability to nip out to the shops has been severely compromised by my not being able to drive. I know better than to ask the fun police to bring me a Daim cake, and in any event he’s been working so I didn’t even try. I did think about calling a cab to the place that sells them, and I also considered doing a full on-line shop just so I could get some contraband delivered and eat it whilst there’s only me in the house. Thankfully I haven’t done any of those things.

But I’m still thinking about doing all of those things because my head is refusing to play nicely.

The thing is, I’m clinging on. My food plan has not been the stuff that skinny dreams are made of this week, and there’s been a couple of days where I’ve gone a bit over my calorie budget but the upshot is, I haven’t eaten Daim cake. Whether I’ve coloured inside the lines or not, it’s been nearer to good than bad and that’s something to celebrate. I doubt very much that the Shitbird Scale will award me a loss on Sunday but to be honest this non-scale victory matters far more. It’s been one hell of a battle.

I don’t think it’s over yet. But it will pass, eventually. The non-Asshole side of my brain knows that, and I’m riding out the storm 🙂

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10 thoughts on “Nearer To Good Than Bad

  1. Hi again, “The best thing about not giving in…” so true Ms. Mimi – you gave me grist for the mill, all this wk-end. Now the next-best thing about not giving in is, not giving in! It is a win AND it feels more & more like your norm.

    Dee, you’re getting more flak from your inner misfit than the barrage that life has been hurling at you. Try give that moody malcontent a quick brush. I want you to be able to stand up to her, she was so Last Semester. Give her a vicious little shove. You can do this; witness, you are doing this.

    1. Ah thanks Fleury-pops. The battle lives and breathes and it’s getting so flaming old I’m even boring myself!! One foot in front of the other and repeat, right? x

  2. Hang on, Kid. We are out here also growling at the A.H.Voice, FUCK OFF! I sometimes realize how much of the Mental there is in this Project… Journey… We can do this. Love

    p.s. giggling madly at the thought of my Fleur, my Small Auxiliary Cat, easing out of reach – like Charlie when he catches the famished gleam in your eyes.

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