When Slips Become Falls

I hope you don't read this blog and think I have it all figured out, conquered, and proudly run through the streets waving my checkered flag.  I write this to be as honest and real with people who do not share my struggle and to give comfort and encouragement to those of you who do.  I have spent too much time walking around my elephant and just want to call a spade a spade.  This blog has been such a great tool for me, because I can see (as well as you, dear readers) how the patterns in my life ebb and flow.  But, life happens; weight is gained and lost.  And the fact that the journey still continues makes me smile. 

I admit that when I hit my goal weight, I was a bit melancholy. I reached my goal and didn't have anything to push toward anymore.  Now, I'm not saying I have gained weight intentionally by any means, but I do wonder if I haven't slipped into some sort of self-sabotage mode.  It happened right before I went below 200 pounds; it happened again at 191 and 181.  It's definitely something I feel needs attention.

I, first, noticed my "slips" when I was back to grazing at 3:00pm every day.  It was as if some internal buzzer dinged and I was off and running.  I wandered around the office looking for food, and if none was to be found, I'd run to the vending machine for some fantastic chocolaty reward.  And one day, I couldn't make up my mind on what to buy, so I bought both.  I ate one package before I got back to my desk so no one would see my 500 calorie binge.  I justified that decision with, "I'm going through a hard time and PMS is a bitch."  Perhaps my biggest temptation is ice cream.  One hot day, someone in the office made a DQ run.  So I placed my order, ate it, and then for the next two weeks, I had ice cream ever night after the kids went to bed-sometimes two bowls.  Can anyone see how I've gained 14 pounds in 13 weeks?  I can keep going if I haven't proven my point yet. 

Today at lunch, we were talking about what we had for dessert.  I didn't have anything available, so I whipped up a carrot cake real quick and never thought a thing about it.  I was on my way back from Columbia this afternoon when I realized the error in my decision.  That is my favorite cake!  I just presented myself with a 13x9 speed bump on my no-sweets road!  What was I thinking?  The next question is, "Tami, did you eat any cake?"  With a puffed-up chest, I can say, "No." and grin.  But, you can bet your sweet lace-up shoes that I'm taking that cake to work tomorrow to get it OUT OF MY HOUSE. 

Another slip:  three weeks ago, I decided to test myself and smoked a Swisher Sweet cigarello.  I justified it by saying, "It's not a cigarette, so it doesn't count."  The next weekend, I had another one.  Then I had a few more over the course of last week, and I've now had one a day for the last 4-5 days.  Being a nicotine addict sucks.  But, I've learned a lesson, here.  I will never be one of those people who can enjoy it occasionally.  I have to put it down completely and never touch it again.  Am I addicted again? No, but I am playing with fire in the most literal sense and must walk away from my friend again.  I know if I don't, I'll become a regular smoker again, and I know all-to-well how easy that can happen. 

So, the lesson for this week?  I am incapable of "maybe just a bite" and "maybe just a puff."  The addictions I have may lay dormant and seem conquered, but minor slips for me can easily turn into major falls if I allow myself to cave to temptation.