Things have mellowed out for me over the past few days. I haven't really had any binges, I've been drinking lots of water, I've actually postponed snack breaks at work because I ask myself if I'm really hungry. I've cooked dinner without being hangry*. I'm feeling more at ease in my vegetarian role, even managing to decline bacon, freshly-sizzled in front of me, without any chatter between the angel and the devil.
Sounds like a dream. I suppose it is. Yet I can't help but feel a little...underwhelmed. I guess subconsciously I imagined myself skipping down the street, smiling and waving to everyone I passed as they flocked from their houses to congratulate me on all my self control. But in reality, I'm only training myself to be normal. And normal people don't get parades.
There was admittedly a certain amount of entertainment within my failures. Being in the drivers seat of a binge is like watching Toddlers & Tiaras - disgusting, trashy, unnecessary, but damned if you're going to change the channel. Shitshows sure do take your mind off other pressing matters.
I still have little fears pop into my head throughout the day. Little, nervous thoughts about my next big regret being right around the corner. I'm all too aware that 10 years of habit are not undone in a month, and it isn't yet safe to be fully trust my convictions. However, I am going to give myself the benefit of the doubt, and try not to crash and burn anytime soon. Maybe I'll watch Dance Moms instead
* Hangry = hungry + angry. A state in which you get so hungry that you become borderline psychotic and cannot tolerate anything coming between you and the nearest food.
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