For six weeks I was clean.
I believed I had beaten it. I felt good, confident, and proud.
But someone had a Paris Breast at work.
I went to some training & food was a constant.
I splurged on a coffee, then another & another. Because I wanted to!
How effortlessly I fell into old habits. Emotionally feeding myself.
I ate less fruit. It’s harder to fit it in when you’re filling up on other crap.
Yesterday I ate two lines of chocolate. One was stolen. I didn’t care. ‘Fuck that healthy eating shit’ I thought. ‘I deserve this’.
The guilt has returned. It’s a constant Woe.
My mood is worse. Anger is more present. I think I’m turning into a Witch! I’m mean to those I love the most. And my evil Woe is grinning at me.
The challenge is not to beat myself up, to be kinder, and give myself a hand up, a gentle nudge forward.
My intention, set with the new moon is fading on the white board.
“My persistence has strength like a Lions roar….”
Maybe it’s a Lion’s cub or a ginger kitten, but it is still there.
My mind wanders to others battling addictions: Gambling, Alcohol, Drugs, Sex, Porn, food…
I believe I have a glimpse of their rough and awful road.