I Confess

I wouldn’t be doing myself any favors by not admitting to this. And it wouldn’t be fair to you if I just kept this to myself… I ATTACKED THE COOKIES. Okay? Shoot me. Just as yesterday was promsing to turn out into a shitty day of no self control, the little animal in me said, “fuck it”, and I ate a bunch of cookies I brought home from Belgium. And another granola bar at 2am because I stayed up that late dealing with unnecessary family drama and I found myself hungry before bed.

After catching myself in the midst of a successful cookie attack, I decided, okay, just one more bite and I’ll take the cookies upstairs and offer them to my host family. At least that way they would be out of my room and out of sight. No one has eaten them yet, but I’m hoping they will, otherwise I don’t know… I should just throw them away. (And then I think, “But they’re from Belgium. They’re special!”… I know I should just get over that.)

WHY do I do this? Surely I’m not alone here. Why do we do things that hurt us? What do we gain from it, psychologically? Biologically? And what does it take to eradicate that destructive behavior?

Ugh.

 

But, today is a new day and I will try to do my best today. I have a 10k race tomorrow morning and I want to be well-fed and well rested for that.

Must be stronger than yesterday. Must!

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