Today the food and drink were fine. Stayed on plan and well in the clear. I took the time to take care of myself and make the food that I needed to make to have a successful day.

But I’m bone tired.

My daughter had her birthday party yesterday and it was fine. It was good. The girls had a wonderful time. But it was ten girls all aged 9 years old or younger and let’s just say that not all of them had the best manners. Oh, and they were loud. But my daughter was very happy, which was the point, and the food didn’t give me the slightest hic-up.

Then two girls stayed and spent the night and while on the one hand it was lovely and fun to have these (the best behaved of the bunch) girls stay over, it exhausted me.

Today I’ve been feeling on the edge a bit. As though I’m teetering on the edge of the abyss of depression. The funny thing is that the food is not calling me. I’ve had no cravings, urges, impulses, or temptations in days. The burden of the food was lifted when the wheat cleared my system after about three days.

I’m teetering on the edge of the depression.

My neck and hip have been hurting terribly. I did my walking today and while it wasn’t painful I felt sluggish and slow and the ache is persistent.

This afternoon my son accidentally knocked a yogurt container out of my hand and as it flew towards my face I instinctively flinched and my neck muscles seized up and I’ve been in real pain ever since.

I’ve been taking my meds but I’ve been feeling delicate and fragile. The initial euphoria of recovery has worn off and now it’s back to the footwork on making the recovery last. Of digging myself out of this hole I slipped into.

I’m not weighing myself. I can tell by my hands and face that something shifted in my weight in a beneficial way. I was starting to look puffy there for a little bit and the puffy has gone down a lot.

But I’m not ready to get back on the scale mostly because I don’t know how I should interpret the number when I see it. This last relapse taught me so much about the fact that this is about my mental health and my sanity even more than it is about my weight and clothing size. Weighing myself seems to be beside the point right now and have the potential to mess with my head and drive me to poor choices.

For now, it’s one foot in front of the other and taking care of myself one day at a time.

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