So much of this whole thing is mental rather than physical. Yes, obviously, what I put in my mouth and the exercises I do are what makes the difference but really it’s what goes on between my ears that actually matters. The introspection and self knowledge, tackling deep seated behaviours and thought processes. Fighting negative self talk and self destructive habits.

Which is a long winded way of saying I ate loads of rubbish today.

I was up from 4am (which with the clocks having changed was really 3am in my body clock) as R was throwing up. I didn’t really get back to sleep except to have a strange dream where my car as parked in the location where I had a car accident (where in real life my car was written off), it was stolen but then replaced by a tractor which I found too big to drive. I realise I’m rambling, I’m rather tired. By the end of the day R seems fine, probably just a way of dealing with yesterday’s emotions.

H was so confused by the clocks changing that he wasn’t awake by 8 when M and he needed to leave to get to school on time. So Lovely Husband stayed with R&H while I drove M to school (and then LH took H to school and then headed to work afterwards. I did something I hadn’t done in a very very long time which was not eat breakfast before leaving the house. So when I went to buy white bread from R, I bought chocolate. I was tired. I was put out that I wasn’t going to finally get to the gym as planned. Drained from yesterday. Stressed by continued fence fiasco. So I had chocolate for breakfast. 

Not a good choice. And then I discovered that my chocolate tolerance level is pathetically low and after two squares of 85% chocolate and half a bar of torino mousse (which used to be my ultimate treat chocolate bar) I actually felt sick. My old friend had turned on me. I still persisted throughout the day picking at it and other things through a weird sense of almost trying to prove something to myself. What was I trying to prove? I don’t understand myself. The thought, “I’m a hopeless case.” keeps flitting through my head but there’s a stronger force that keeps saying, “No I’m not” and chucking it out. I just don’t understand why I do this to myself. I didn’t enjoy the junk I ate today and I feel yucky. So why did I do it?

UPDATE: I was just telling LH what rubbish I’d eaten and he said, “shall I peel a carrot for you?”. 

This is the tastiest thing I’ve eaten all day and is true love.