I wasn't sure what I was going to blog about today, but I knew I needed to get in here and write, to keep that connection, like I said I would. But my day totally sucked food-wise. At lunch I ate like ten chocolate chip cookies. Not becuase I was hungry, but because they tasted good and I was alone and well ... the best way to get them out of my face (so they can't taunt me anymore) is to shove them in my face.
But then I read Kristi's post.
And so I ask, what is it with diets, anyway?
What is it about diets that make bingers cringe?
I have no flippin' idea. If I knew that answer, I swear, I'd be a size eight once more and I wouldn't be here, that's for sure.
And you know? I'm mad as heck about it too. I hate that I don't have any clothes that don't show the little rolls in my middle. I hate the feeling of those rolls as my arms rest against them. I hate the fact that my breasts no longer look as big because they are competing with those same rolls.
I'm mad that while I can control what I say when I'm talking to people (and really want to tell them what I think but I control myself and instead say the polite thing), I can't control what I put in my mouth. I can control whether or not I clean my house, pay my bills, go grocery shopping and many other things that I hate doing. So why can't I stay on a diet?
Actually, scratch that.
I do feel in control.
But for some reason I haven't yet grasped, a part of me is choosing to stuff my face.
I can feel it. It does not exactly feel like being out of control. It feels like want, need, righteousness. I deserve it. I should have it.
Maybe, I'm a freak. Oh, and so is Kristi ;)
Are you a freak, too?
