Stress beyond stress on Friday and Saturday, but I stayed strong and I didn't cheat eat more than my RDI. I talked it out, then cried it out, beat it out at the gym, then finally 0.25mg Xanax took up the rear. I gave up alcohol, so what else is one to do when things get that bad?
Since I so rarely take the stuff, it took the edge off enough for me to sleep. Sometimes I feel like Life just tests me, then I pass. Then it goes, "Oh you handled that so well! Can you take this?" And it throws me something else five minutes later. Then before I have a chance to recover from that, there's one final icing on the cake. And since I now see icing on cake as poison, it's exactly that - more toxic crap to deal with.
Luckily, no one is terminally ill. No one lost their job. No one is homeless. This was emotional, totally selfish stress. This was all about something Dom wanted, had and loved for 24 hours, then it got taken away from her. Now she is brokenhearted. And it was in the form of a dog I found, thought I could keep, then found out I couldn't. But I loved him. And I selfishly miss him. He was a total lover, snuggler and we bonded instantly. But there are insurmountable issues of practicality that cannot be overcome and we had to part ways. I am, in fact, beside myself for now.
<a href="http://imgur.com/axBFjz2"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/axBFjz2.jpg?1" title="Hosted by imgur.com" /></a>
I'm sorry for how incredibly self-indulgent this sounds to people who have actual problems like lack of money and no job. But for me, the unconditional love of a dog is the best best thing ever because it makes one forget about all the other problems like money and jobs and somehow makes the rest of life worth living.
Still, the silver lining is that I triumphed because a year ago, I would have been buried in bad food to suppress these emotions and this time around, I just felt them. It was hard, and it hurt. But I'll get over it. And I wanted to share to my FS friends that emotional eating
can be controlled and it
can stop. I did it.
In case you don't know this about me yet, animals are my Achilles heel. Don't get between me and my pets unless you want to meet a pissed off Mother Grizzly Bear. The whole cute Mrs. Mole thing flies out the window then!
Thanks for listening.
P.S. The poisoned icing one the cake I referred to earlier (because all of this wasn't enough for one day) is that I now also have a massive hemorrhoid as of yesterday, the day I had to give up the puppy. All of the recent straining has paid off in the form of this lovely gift. So yay! Does anyone have a rock big enough for someone about 219 pounds to crawl under for awhile? I'll pay rent...!