So yesterday I drove up to see my dad and grandmother. And it went well. I was a little nervous, but I think I know the area well enough that I was fine. And I’m planning another trip for Monday.
I eyeballed what I was eating, since I wasn’t about to weigh out how much fish was on my plate, and I managed to keep within calorie fairly well. Even when my step-mom brought out a birthday cookie for my dad and I, I only had a small sliver.
However, on the way home I stopped at the half way point to get out and walk around. It’s something I have to do because of my back (if I sit still too long my legs go numb). So I’m walking around the car, looking at the McDonald’s drive through menu, sorely tempted to go in and order a chicken club sandwich. But I didn’t. I ate the apple in my purse instead and decided I’d have a spinach salad with cheese and ham when I got home. Maybe I’d throw some pecans there.
I called Matt to let him know where I was, and over the course of that conversation got extremely pissed off. And how did I handle my anger? Did I take a few deep breaths? Nope. Did I jump around and scream? Nope. Did I drive to the grocery store next door, buy a cookie, and snarf it in my car? Yup. *sigh* I was still within calorie for the day, but the fact remains that it’s reacting like that that put me in this situation to begin with, I need to stop doing that. I don’t even remember what it was that upset me it was so trivial. Yet I couldn’t handle feeling the emotion, so I ate.
I’ve never been one to deal with my emotions. I stuff them down or I eat through them, and then the point comes along when I just snap, and that’s never good.
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