It's amazing how quickly an agreement with myself goes out the window. For over a month, give or take, I've been following a food plan that is designed to heal some of the damage to my digestive system. I won't go into any details, but suffice it to say that my love of all things sugar had taken its toll and I was suffering in ways I hadn't experienced since going gluten-free six years ago. I held FAST to the precepts for the first 10 days - going so far as to stop myself from licking a single beater/spoon/bowl/finger when doing my Christmas baking.
In agreement with my health practitioner, I put the plan on hold over Christmas - three days with the family is no time to avoid sugar, dairy, etc, etc. When I came home, the idea was to get right back on track. And I have, sort of, kind of, partly. Okay fine - the truth is, I've 'cheated' almost every day. Only a little bit. Only a bit of this, or a little of that. A couple cookies in the midst of all those legumes and lean meats and vegetables can't be that bad, right?
I want it to be somebody else's fault. I want to say that it's because I am doing this on my own. But really, on my own is pretty much how I do everything, and the truth is that I've been holding my commitment to get healthy cheap and my promises to myself lightly. Because, more often than not, I hold myself cheap. We've been here before. This is not a new revelation.
This evening was an interesting experience though. I'd done well today, for the most part. And even better yesterday. I felt like I was going to finish strong as there's only a few days left of this stage of the program. And then ... out of the silence ... a hurt feeling. And behind that hurt feeling, a story about who I am - not worth it. Easily ignored. Stupid for thinking I matter.
And suddenly an entire package of gluten free caramel chocolate dessert treats is gone. Too be clear, the 'entire package' contained 5 pieces. But still. After the first one I thought "my body doesn't want this much sugar - I'm not even enjoying it" but ... my mind wanted. Or if not my mind, whatever part of me believes those stories - I mean, since I'm so worthless that I sit here being ignored all night, why not eat everything in the house? Who is going to know or care?
I do. I know. And I care.
A really interesting shift though is that I'm not beating myself up and hating myself for it - for the cookies or the thoughts. I ate cookies. I didn't murder a kitten. And, I did my best today. And yesterday. And on the weekend when I had hash for brunch. And every day before, during and after the plan.
Every day we do our best for that day. Some days our best is better; some days it's worse. But it's always our best.
And just when I was wondering what to do about all of that, I saw this article from the Huffington Post called 'Healing with Hurt Feelings.' It's a good one ... you should go read it.