While I haven’t specifically written about the guilt I’ve felt over being sick and the concurrent “comfort food” eating, it’s been there big-time. I've been at war with my inner food addict and it's been a hell of a week. It’s time to haul my butt up (“take it slow,” my doc says) and out of the house and start moving and shaking again. I’ve had a food breakdown directly related to... well... basically being stuck in the house with a kitchen full of food that, of course, I was plenty able to ingest. I chose to eat (wrong foods) over the fact(s) that I let my clients down before an important holiday for them (and me). I felt as if I put extra pressure on my husband and my own kids by not being able to pick their kids up from school (which I try to do at least once a week). I harvested guilt over “abandoning” Samantha this week, with sub-par doggie adventure walks. I could have written a new tome using my anxious madcap notions.
Each day, I felt worse and worse, with both mind and body wreaking havoc on my psyche. Out of control? You bet. Each day that I spent planting new and fantastic “guilt” seeds, so my body grew in direct proportion to the inner (and) harebrained fictions. There is a path worn through the bedroom carpet and cold pavers to the fridge and back. Ouch. The number on the scale on Friday didn’t even affect me. I am numb again - bad sign. As I’m really, finally feeling better this morning, I’ve devised a plan.
Numbah one: A-hunting I will go—to the Farmer’s Market, on a search for Thanksgiving fruits and veggies. We have eight healthy-minded folks coming on Thursday and I’ve planned a menu rich in flavor, but low on the fats.
Numbah two: Cooking homemade turkey broth this afternoon. Easy, as it simmers for over four hours. Picked up several pounds of raw turkey “offal” yesterday at Whole Paycheck. And I didn’t even get into it last night.
Numbah three: Cooking two batches of cornbread (this is the most dangerous part) to be left out to get stale. Just those words conjure up some feelings. Maybe I won’t do that; instead, I could buy some old cornbread on Wednesday. My granddaughters will be here spending the night. Yeah... I’ll purchase it then and challenge them to ways of getting that cornbread in a state of staleness!
Numbah four: Last, but not least, did not get doggie bathed and groomed yesterday, so, getting her done is huge on the “today” list, maybe while the stock’s simmering.
Feel better already. I also just wrote out my own food plan for the day. Now, time to get to the Farmer’s Market. I need to be a part of the world again. Usually, I make better choices, but without my usual lifelines, I’m still prone to fall into my food addictive patterns soooo easily. Bummer. Really! It's just so easy.