Christmas Cookies

Yesterday I had a cookie, or three. Fresh, home baked luscious cookies. Beyond delicious, they were irresistible. And now I am paying the price. Because I want more. A lot more. So far today I have been able to keep my Lines Bright, but I don't really have the fortitude to declare with certainty that they will stay that way. Instead I am pinning my future on Hope, because that is the most powerful of emotions. Or at least on a par with Love.

I am hoping I can fight my way through this day because then I know for certain that tomorrow will be easier, and the day after that even better. Except that the day after is Christmas. My emotions and thoughts are in turmoil, ideas battling for supremacy with much at stake.

(b)  oatmeal, blueberries, PB
(l)  spaghetti soup, sausage, red pear
(d)  pizza bowl; roasted peppers, onions & mushrooms, 1oz pepperoni, 1oz cheese, ceasar salad - light on protein but I had some zero sugar jerky with my salad to make up the difference.

I'm tired, and that on top of not feeling very emotionally stable worries me because of all the goodies in the house.  I'm going to have a cup of herbal tea, or two or three, and chug a glass of water, and pray and watch a vlog and just stay out of the kitchen. Because that's where the pumpkin pie is, and the Aussie bites. And there is peanut butter chocolate in the freezer and cookies and candy in the dining room.

In other words, it's a torture chamber here at the moment. And it's all Not My Food. I will keep telling myself that. Over and over, all night long. I'm mostly worried about all the denial, and a possible backlash that has come in the form of burgers, fries, and pizza in the past. Deny myself something today and binge on something else tomorrow.

This is why a Bright Line is defined as a rule without exceptions, because the consequences are hard to recover from sometimes. Before when I've broken or bent a line it was no big deal, and I was able to just keep going as if nothing had happened. So I don't know why this is different. It just is, and I need to fight my way through it.

So that's where I am, hanging on to Hope.