Someone Catch that Wagon - I Just Fell Off!

Have you taken your vows as a priest?  'Cause I'm about to confess here.  Get your confessional vestments on, people!

Okay, I'll admit it.  I fell off the wagon today.  I've been doing really well this week, and then BAM!  Too much pressure, stress, anger, frustration, and hurt all boiled up and over.  I dealt with it in way I do best - with a sugary glaze and a gooey center.

I broke down this morning and bought 2 donuts.  Two, large donuts.  Two, large, goo-filled donuts that left me with a happy little sugar buzz for the next few hours.

I'm so weak.

The rest of the day went fine, until this evening, when I had to stay late at school and my angry, rumbling tummy threw my world into disarray and forced me to drive into Sonic.  I was forced, I tell you!  Forced!!  Okay, that's probably the fat-laden guilty conscious talking.

It's so hard not to get on the hamster wheel of death when it comes to excusing my poor choices.  One bad choice leads to another because, "I've already blown it for the day.  What is one more chocolate/ice cream/donut/candy bar/extra-large-double-cheeseburger-with-double-bacon-and-sweet-and-spicy-habenero-sauce really going to hurt?"

I've been down that road so many times, I can't possibly count how many extra pounds that kind of thinking has added to my thighs, butt, and stomach.  My former Weight Watchers leader would ask us, "If you walked outside and noticed that someone had slashed one of your tires, would you say, 'Oh well, I might as well go ahead and slash the other four'?  Of course not!"  But, that's exactly what I do on days like today.  I bury my feelings in food and then allow that to excuse further overeating and unhealthy choices.

It's the hamster wheel of death.  Sweet, sugary, deep-fried death.