Yesterday, my PMS abated and I started to feel better, but I also had some minor stress/inner conflict that caused me to have a stare-down with a peanut butter jar. I always have several kinds of peanut butter in the house: all natural, mixed almond/cashew natural, crunchy Jif for the teens, and creamy Jif just because I have never had a life without creamy Jif and my younger kids also love it. And since it fits into my plan in moderation (1 Tbsp as a snack, once per day if I want it), I like having it there. I like putting a little on a protein-packed pancake or in a shake or on celery. I haven't had a problem with the Jif before, even though I used to eat it by the 1/2-cupful in my previous life. I have, however, almost had to stop buying the natural stuff. I ate a whole small jar of it at one point this winter. In one sitting.
Anyway, I was mad about the crackers yesterday but successfully avoided them, but the Jif was starting to get to me. I was making sandwiches for my daughter and it smelled so delicious on that whole wheat bread. I put some in my shake. I had a little lick off the spoon (all measured and on plan). But once that tablespoon was gone, I wanted more.
I ended up standing in the kitchen having a face off with a big red-labeled jar on the counter and the smell of peanut butter lingering in the air. I know it was the "gateway" to a binge. I know how it goes with me; a few bites off plan and then I have to fight the huge waves of disappointment and frustration in myself that come after and the binge thoughts that follow.
I ate an extra half tablespoon of Jif. I felt mad at myself. I talked myself through it in my head:
"I always want to overeat when I am about to drop weight. For some reason I am still afraid to lose this weight. I do not need to be afraid. I am not fragile. I do want this. For some reason I subconsciously enjoy the battle more than the reward. This has to stop. There is no reason to keep cycling within the same 10-15 pound range. My body is tired of this. I have to stay in control and not let this overtake me."
So I did. I stayed coherent, did not succumb to the giant, sucking vortex of binge behavior. Instead, I swam to shore.
I feel much better this morning. The scale rewarded my valiant effort with a loss this week: -2 pounds, despite PMS all week. I now weigh 187 pounds and am 13 pounds from a new low. And for perspective, I am down 11 pounds in the past 3 weeks. Twenty one days on plan.
Do not let the peanut butter jar win. You can beat this thing!
Hug your father today if you can.
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