|
A surprise visit to Binge City yesterday. Thought I could have a few treats at the end of a tough week, only to find myself giving in fairly spectacularly to my husband’s stockpile of cakes, chocolate, crisps. My resolve was definitely weakened by a succession of whisky and ginger ales. Naturally, I’m feeling like crap this morning. However, I’m doing my best to learn from it and work out what happened by retracing my steps over the last 48 hours. A key factor is stress and, admittedly, it’s making me feel a bit sorry for myself so I’m just going to have a bit of a vent here. Firstly, I’m feeling hugely pressured to rise to a major publication deadline this week, despite dealing with some truly infuriating IT issues; this, for example, is the 3rd time I’ve tried to write this journal! The second pressure is my new lectureship, which I absolutely love but which is also very demanding, and all the more so because I’m still continuing certain aspects of my previous position. Thirdly, I’m weekly commuting across the UK, which is especially difficult just now with floods and constant train cancellations or delays. The last straw though, and the real trigger I think to my binging yesterday, was visiting my mother yesterday. I absolutely adore her and she’s been stuck in hospital for two months, being assessed and now waiting for a transfer to a dementia care home. This week, she wasn’t just confused, she was also desperately aware of her own deteriorating condition and truly distressed about it. It’s the first time I’ve seen her driven to tears and it absolutely rips my heart out, especially as there’s nothing more that can be done till next week… again. I feel that I should be able to cope with all this, without complaining; after all, there are so many people dealing with so much worse things in the world. But at times, even though I know the end-game that it’s all for and I know it won’t be like this forever, it does all feel like a bit much. I’m still trying to establish why my response is to eat a load of crap and make myself feel like hell. Clearly, it’s got something to do with looking for comfort or escape of some sort. Fortunately, I’ve been in a good enough groove, for long enough, that this kind of glitch is just temporary; however, I also know that I need to work out some less-destructive coping mechanisms. Got up early today to do just that, by going for a run -- only to find that I’ve left all my sneakers at my other place, damn it. So now, just to add another little annoyance, I need to spend the morning going and buying a pair. *sigh* Oh well, my irritation is balanced out by a welcome 2-mile walk into town on this lovely crisp, sunny morning, and the always lovely prospect of a new pair of sneakers. This journal’s a bit of an extended whinge today, and I have so much to be grateful for. After all, I’ve got a terrific new job and a publishing contract, I still have the mother I love so much, I can afford to buy new sneakers when I need them, and today is a beautiful pre-Spring day. So thanks all for bearing with me. Perhaps once I’ve burned off some of the rubbish I ate last night, I’ll be in a better frame of mind. Ultimately, life will always be a mixture of the gritty and the smooth, and other trite platitudes...
Diet Calendar Entries for 16 February 2014:
|
1477 kcal
|
Fat: 48.63g | Prot: 105.53g | Carb: 146.15g.
Breakfast: Whole Milk, Coffee (Brewed From Grounds), Tomatoes, Smoked or Cured Ham, Turkey Breast Meat, Ryvita Dark Rye Crackers, Philadelphia 1/3 Less Fat Cream Cheese, Spring Onions. Lunch: Clementines, Water, Promax Protein high protein bar (dark chocolate orange flavour). Dinner: Water, Green Peppers, Tesco Breaded Haddock Fillets, Spring Onions, Ko-Lee Instant Noodles, Garlic. Snacks/Other: Fage Total 0% Fat Free Authentic Greek Yoghurt, Ryvita Multigrain Crispbread, Tuna in Water (Canned). more...
|
|
2915 kcal
|
Activities & Exercise:
Sitting - 8 hours, Shopping - 1 hour, Walking (brisk) - 4/mph - 1 hour and 15 minutes, Desk Work - 2 hours, Resting - 3 hours and 45 minutes, Sleeping - 8 hours. more...
|
|