Progress

Sober for 2 weeks. Feels like 20 years.

Working on the meal plan. This week: pick a protein and build a meal around it. Plus, eat 6 times a day, protein 4 times, drink water, variety. And self-care. I am trying to prepare meals here and there.

I feel like carbs have regained control in my life. When my taste was wonky from the dopamax, I could only tolerate starchy things like crackers and pretzels and bread. And, thanks to the reprogramming from ED treatment, I now have no problem eating them. Except I feel like I can't stop.

That scares me. That's pre-surgery behavior. I don't want to go back there. I don't want to weigh 300+ pounds again. I just want to rely on food for nourishment. Not as my babysitter, best friend or parent.

So I try to look at every bit as a new choice. If it goes in, it's got to stay in. No purging. And that makes me ask: do I want this substance in me? Sometimes, I don't care. Bring on the sugar carb god and let me worship at the altar of gluttony. And other times, it forces me to reach for a banana instead of a granola bar. Carrots instead of pretzels.

I still have the scale in my house. I'm not on it daily. Although, the weight I lost when I wasn't eating from the meds is now back. And that makes me judge myself. That's the ED talking. No one else tells me I look fatter. And honestly, I don't think I do look that much fatter. WHOA! Was that a breakthrough statement? Dang. I think I actually believe it.

Here's another little point of progress: tank tops. Yep, I have been seen in public without on overshirt. And I have some muscle definition that I think is more noticeable than the wrinkled skin, especially when I'm not flopping the appendages in the wind.Plus, the tank tops show off my great tan.

I'm holding on to these little things. Eventually, I know they'll all add up to me. A whole me. A healthy me. A happy me.