Bruised and bloody

     Now before I start let me say I am fine and no physical harm has come to me, but mentally that is a little different.  During my run this morning all I could think about was what I ate last night and how cavalier I was ordering it and eating it.  I just kept beating myself up about it, hence the title.  I just kept replaying it over and over with with different decisions I could have made and what outcome it would've had.

     Now before you go what the hell are you talking about, last night the Browns were playing the Redskins on MNF and I was looking for a place to watch it.  Mandy and I don't have cable or satellite and the game was on ESPN so we need to go out to watch the game.  Mandy was not feeling well and she didn't feel like going out so I had to find a place to watch the game.  I got a hold of my friend Paul to see if I could crash at his place to watch the game, well his wife was home sick as well, so to Frickers restaurant we go.  What ended up transpiring is the whole reason I am typing this one up.

     Why couldn't I and why didn't I just stop eating?  That is a great question and it seems like a hard answer, but it really isn't when I step back and think about it.  When the game started I ended up ordering a plate of cheese nachos.  I wasn't really thinking anything more than I always get nachos when I'm here and nachos taste good so go ahead and order some nachos.  I could have stopped at that point, I felt full, but not overly full.  It's me of course and no nachos wasn't enough.

     In the middle of the 2nd quarter the waitress asked us if we wanted to order anything else and without any thought or question I ordered 10 wings breaded, deep fried and swimming in BBQ sauce.  Once she walked away my mind kicked back on and I new I made a bad choice.  Of course though I didn't do anything about it.  When she set the wings in front of me I knew I shouldn't be doing this, but I tried to rationalize it by saying, well I didn't get french fries so that's a little better.  Each and every wing I ate I felt worse and worse about myself.  How could I continue to do this to myself?  After 5 wings I looked at my plate and said to myself, just stop, you don't have to eat the rest.  Yeah that lasted like all but 5 seconds.  I plowed through the last 5 non stop till I was done.   

     So while I ran this morning, drowning in my own self pity, all I could come up with was my fuck it attitude reared its ugly head.  For me that is when I say to myself I already ruined the day so I might as well enjoy it.  Follow that with one day isn't going to hurt anything and I'll get right back on track tomorrow.  That is how every single one of my previous attempts at weight loss have gone.  One day turns into two and two turns into well my week is shot, I'll get back to it on Monday.  Next thing I know I am right back to where I don't want to be.

     I am sure a lot of people would read this and think I am a crazy person and I am way over reacting to the situation, but to me there is no such thing.  I hated myself when I allowed myself to gain back the 60 pounds I lost once, how do you think I would feel if I gained back the 130 plus.