I thought I’d have my life back to normal [spelled under control] by now. I thought the emotional eating I’ve been doing would peter out. [Did I just use that word? That’s a word from my childhood!] I assumed life was going to be calm and collected after a nice relaxing 12 days in the mountains. And I thought I’d get right back to 144 [what I weighed the day we left] But I’m sadly mistaken.
The day I got home I felt dang good about myself. The next morning I was 147 and I felt great! I exercised two days in a row. I recommitted to everything. I figured it would only take about a week to get back down three pounds.
I even saw Orion in the low southeastern horizon at 4:30 one morning. I was so thrilled and thought everything was perfect! But I have eaten like a demented parolee from a refugee camp for over a week.
Gggrrrrr. I’m a mess.
My weight is sky high. My face is broken out. My stomach is hanging over my thighs. My boobs are hanging over my stomach and it’s just not the kind of hangover I’m looking for.
If I were a drunk, I would be. Right now.
I can’t even say my weight out loud today. But I will say this. If I go school-clothes shopping, it will be for a lot bigger size than it was just a couple weeks ago.
See that double chin!
What happened? And how did it all happen so dang fast? I’m ready to call NutriSystem, Jenny, or just get some HCG. <JK! on that one!>
Denial is a defense mechanism in which a person is faced with a fact that is too uncomfortable to accept and rejects it instead, insisting that it is not true despite what may be overwhelming evidence.  The subject may use:
Yes, I’m somewhere in between the three of these. It’s got to get better.
Just a second, let me check my biorhythms. Whenever I’m having a particularly horrible [or awesome day,] I like to check.
Oh my stinking heck!
Please, don’t anyone dare tell me that biorhythms are a bunch of fooey! I’m in the toilet this week!