Yesterday was a holiday. I had a soda. I ate hamburgers, poke cake, cookies, orange salad and cookies. I said cookies twice on purpose, heh. When I got home I had a glass of water and went to bed satisfied. Not one iota of guilt passed through my mind because I know I won't be eating like that every day.
This morning my mom called. She's coming to town and would like to meet somewhere for "an ice cream," even if that means she has a salad and diet coke. She struggles with weight issues also.
My relationship with my mom is complicated. I feel concern that the mental issues that lead to her gaining weight haven't been dealt with. Thinking back, I'm suspecting she might have deeper issues she's been hiding, such as abuse of laxatives or pain medication. I'm jealous because I know that lack of exercise demon still haunts me. She does exercise every day. I'm angry because I know some of my weight issues are from my rocky childhood. I'm happy because I know how hard it is to lose weight. It's always good to know that it's not impossible. I'm angry because I have that stupid PCOS which makes it that much harder to lose, 'specially when the store that carries the thing that was helping closes for a vacation just as I run out of the stuff!
All this bubbles up in a flash when the thought of 'ice cream' comes up. Then I remind myself I'm an adult. I don't have to eat anything. I can drink tea. I have the freedom to choose.
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