I got home from dinner on Sunday night feeling triumphant. Things had gone so well for me with my food at the family dinner that I was planning a post for yesterday morning called “When Eating Means Success”. For the first time, maybe ever in my memory, I ate in front of my family without any self-consciousness. I ate as much as I wanted without second guessing myself and without any defiance. It felt great.

But, that post never happened, because Sunday night happened. Whenever I get to “that time of the month” my sleep get messed up to the point of it really messing with my ability to live my life in a healthy/normal way.

Sunday night I was really tired and went to bed at 9:30 pm. I woke up at 12:53 am to pee. When I got back from the bathroom I thought to myself, “I’m way too alert, really awake, oh no.” After several hours I was able to doze on and off from about 4:45 am until 6:30 am, but truth be told I never actually got back to sleep.

Worse was that I started having overwhelming and irrational sadness about the state of my extended family and the inevitability of loss. I spent some time weeping and generally feeling sorry for myself. Hooray for sleep deprived irrationality!

When we were getting the kids ready for school in the morning I lost my temper with my daughter who was in a foul mood all on her own. In the process of us arguing about the “lack of perfection” of her oatmeal I broke the bowl. I felt completely fried and without any emotional reserve.

Then at 5 pm, after a full day of work,  my son nearly knocked my computer to the floor as he wandered around complaining that he had to do his homework. I lost my temper at him too. Which means I yelled and looked like a lunatic for a minute or so.

Luckily, I’m not as much of a lunatic as I seem and I was able to back-track with both kids and apologize. My husband didn’t come home until very late so I actually had a nice evening with the kids and some nice moments with each before bed.

I had planned to go to bed when the kids did, but of course I had stuff to do. I wound up having some hot milk and going to bed at about 9:30 pm with hope fighting the fear in my heart that I would or wouldn’t get sleep.

Despite the hot milk it took a good hour-plus to get to sleep. But, I was pretty soundly in it until 2:39 am when my son ran into the room crying for me because he’d had a bad dream and needed to be comforted.

The universe must have a sick sense of humor, because that was basically it for me for sleep for the night. I spent maybe a bit from about 5-6:30 am dozing here and there, but that’s generous.

I think I might need a sleep study. Or at least talk to my Ob/Gyn. I’m too young for menopause. But I can’t live with this sort of chaos, and I have no desire to become dependent on sleep aids.

The silver lining in this situation is that nights like these have, in the past, resulted in falling off the wagon of my food plan. Easily grabbed junk food carbs are just too appealing when I don’t have the energy to think straight let alone prepare myself meals. But, I managed to stay on plan yesterday relatively easily and I plan to stick with it today too.

Preparation helps. I had things to grab for the most part and that helped. But, in the end it was just the knowledge that this simply is my food plan now and not just a diet that kept me focused. It’s not cheating when I deviate now. It’s not about the scale anymore. It’s about knowing that staying on plan means keeping the sanity that I have worked so hard to gain. And even when my sanity feels tenuous from lack of sleep, or maybe especially when my sanity feels tenuous from lack of sleep, that food plan stays my plan.

Recovery feels good even when life feels not so good.

Thank goodness for recovery.

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