“The mind is a funny thing.”
I spent all day yesterday feeling skinny.
“Wow,” I kept thinking. “You are just losing weight like crazy!!” (Remember it had been nine days since my last binge).
I’d look in the mirror and admire my the cheekbones that had emerged from under the bloat. I’d put my hand on my waist and think how lean was my muscle, how toned.
I sashayed about work thinking, “I’m baaacccckkkkk!” and hoping I’d run into the ex-boyfriend who worked two floors down who broke my heart months earlier (more on him later).
And then I saw a picture of myself.
It was taken at a group dinner later that night. I’d joined eight other ladies at a local restaurant for a birthday celebration. Carol, the organizer, had handed the waiter her camera and asked him to take a group shot.
I was seated at the far end of the table and put on my best smile, smug with the secret knowledge that I looked better than any of the others, certainly more fashionable, and always the one with the best hair (I have really good hair).
After the waiter was finished, he handed the phone back to Carol, where she promptly texted the photo to all of us.
When my phone dinged, I eagerly enlarged the image until I could see myself clearly. Then my stomach dropped.
I looked fat.
The cheeks that had appeared so sleek were just as puffy as ever. My shoulders were rounded, arms plump, expression sad.
The elation I’d felt all day turned to humiliation. I wanted to crawl under the table and out of the restaurant (how I’d do that I don’t know but you get the idea).
But then recovery kicked in. I immediately started the self-talk that would keep me from throwing myself down the rabbit hole and into the closest YogurtLand.
Don’t worry about it. You’re beautiful.
You only gained 14 pounds. The last time you relapsed this badly you gained 100. That’s right, 100. Fourteen will come off in no time.
Girl, you’ve been through freaking hell these past few months. What’s a little weight?
It’s okay to be human. You’re allowed to gain weight.
And on and on all the way home until I was soothed and I was able to go to bed with another binge-free day under my ever-loosening belt.
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