Friday night. 10 pm. A mere four days until Christmas. As far as I’m concerned, the wretched holiday can’t come and go soon enough. Despite my best efforts to stick to my diet, cookies and candies and cakes keep showing up at my door. Since I started a liquid protein diet in September, I have become keenly aware of how much of life is centered around food. Movies, popcorn. Dates, dinner. Birthdays, cake. In fact, I cannot think of a social activity that doesn’t involve eating.
I know, I know. I can hear my old Weight Watchers leader now, telling me to focus on the people not the grub. Yeah? Well, try going out to lunch with a friend and ordering nothing but sparkling water. Try going to happy hour with coworkers and ordering nothing but a diet soda while your friends throw back apple martinis and buffalo wings. It’s enough to turn an extroverted girl into a shut in.
“Shut in” pretty much describes my life nowadays. Just tonight, I refused to let my best friend come for visit, because I knew it would trigger me to drink. After a wine or two, I knew I would surely hit the gingerbread that some nice person so rudely sent. I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself, and I knew I’d later regret it.
I guess this is progress. Before, I wouldn’t have pondered the consequences of my eating behaviors. The little devil on my shoulder would have whispered, “Aw, what the hell! Let loose!” But, in the past, any time I “let loose” for a night, it usually lasts a year and ends in a 40 pound weight gain. I guess I’m changing, because I just can’t do that to myself again. I can’t give in to little temptations to drink or eat badly. I now see that, for the past 30 years, little slips have always turned into landslides. Over the years, these landslides have washed away my confidence, my self-esteem, my self-love, my motivation, maybe even my success. I can’t do it any more. My life is more important than that fruit cake that somebody sent from Dean and Delucca.
Damn Christmas. Damn candy houses and festive cocktails and gingerbread men.
The baby Jesus slept in a manger, right?
I should be thrilled with my sparkling water.