There were a lot of things I could have done yesterday, after my feelings were hurt.
I could have gone to the refrigerator. It would have been a challenge, but I could have cobbled together something crappy out of the healthy ingredients that we use in moderation. I could at least have eaten the batch of frozen cake pops that I made specifically to help me practice moderation.
I could have ordered food delivery, as was my frequent custom when something stung and I didn't want to deal with it. I could have eaten in one meal more than I ate for the four days. Pretty easily. The calories stack up when oil and cheese are involved at the levels of pizza or artichoke dip.
I could have gone out for fast food, even though my taste for it is long gone, even though I wasn't really hungry for it or for anything else - just for the numbness that I used to feel after eating. I could have gotten a side of mayonnaise for my fries. What? It's European.
I could have stuffed my feelings in so I didn't have to say that I was sad. So that I didn't have to admit that I'm sensitive. So that I didn't have to cry - and it's so damned easy for me to cry. Or I could have lashed out, I could have returned the pain in full.
I could have thrown away three full months I've spent taking care of myself. I could have gained back the weight I lost last week, and maybe even the week before.
But I didn't.
I weighed in this morning. I lost four more pounds last week.
Three months. 41 pounds.
I am 41% of the way to my first goal. And I haven't done this alone. I'd like to thank Tom in particular, for being so kind and supportive. I'd like to thank my friends and family, for listening and for not judging. And I'd like to thank everyone who is reading. Sharing my journey helps me stay on this journey, and I appreciate each of you for coming along with me.