If you’ve ever gotten drunk, you probably have a hazy memory of starting the evening. Maybe you were all dressed up and feeling good about yourself. Maybe you were looking forward to having your favorite beer, a glass of some really fabulous wine. Your friends are there and everyone is talking and laughing. One drink leads to another. After that it gets a little fuzzy. You wake up the next day, head pounding, your mouth tasting like something crawled in there and died.
Yesterday I started my day with pancakes, peaches and sausages. Not exactly a weight loss surgery friendly meal. High on carbs, big on bulk and more sugar and less protein than I need in a meal. Surely, I persuaded myself, the whole wheat flour we’ve substituted into the pancakes and that they were smaller and thinner made them much healthier. And the peaches were from fresh, organic peaches that I cooked with splenda and froze last summer. The sausages were chicken and apple, so a much better choice than the full pork, high fat ones I used to eat.
But still. Too much food. Too many carbs. Too much sugar and too much fat. I had a protein drink later, but it was really like locking the barn door after the horses were out. All day I had Fat Head Syndrome (FHS).
FHS is when you think about doing something good for you and you talk yourself out of it, for example, when you know you should go for a walk and you make cookies instead.
FHS is when your menu calls for grilled fish and broccoli and you have barbecue and tortilla chips instead.
FHS is when you have a list of errands and chores to get done on the weekend and you surf the web, watch television and read trashy novels instead.
FHS is when you finally drag yourself out of the house and into the sunshine and instead of getting the walk you need, you go to the Goodwill and spend 4 hours mindlessly flipping through clothes. The only good thing about that was that I did get out of the house and it was the only four hours all day that I didn’t mindlessly graze and snack. And I found a fabulous lamb leather jacket and a cool bedazzled t-shirt.
But did I really need to spend $36 on clothes when a fair portion of my clothes are dirty or most of the rest are lying on my bed upstairs, waiting to be put away? The answer is no, but.
No, I didn’t need to spend that money, but I did find a great deal.
No, I didn’t need to spend that money, but I have wanted a leather jacket for ages and $26 for a leather jacket IS a great deal. And I look pretty good in it. But the resulting guilt from using the shopping addiction to try to address the fall back into compulsive eating put me firmly on the sofa for the rest of the night, mindlessly watching shows like Hoarder and Heavy – that both address possible scenarios for my future if I don’t snap out of it – until after midnight.
So, Sunday morning, almost 10 and I’m finally up, blogging and sipping my first protein drink of the day. My wonderful, loving family is surrounding me with love and support. My husband, who sat next to me and dozed to keep me company in my crazed channel flipping, made coffee and is even now cooking veggies for an omelet for our breakfast while I sit in the light of the therapy device he built for me. (More on that later in Labor of Love post).
This afternoon, my son and I are going to hike up Stone Mountain and get some exercise and out of the house. After blogging and breakfast I’m going to work on my list of chores and do my laundry, put away my clothes and clean my bedroom. Then I’m going to try to make a stab at my office, which has become a dumping ground instead of a place to work and think and create. It may take me a while, but it is the first step in getting our taxes done, which, if I’m honest, is where yesterday’s FHS originated.