Not a crack but a crev-ass

Last night I fell into a deep dark crevice, and it was lined with homemade apple pie. For three months I have toed the line. I've attended all the meetings, stayed within my daily allotment of points, counted said points religiously and exercised on a fairly regular basis. I made it through several heinously stressful situations without buying a non-stop ticket to a calorie fest. And I finally succumbed. I laid all my willpower on the alter of apple pie.

And damn it was good.

The crust was absolutely perfect, with a little bit of sugar sprinkled delicately on top it's crispy, crumbly goodness. The apples were slightly gooey but still intact enough to hold onto each other and the cinnamonbuttersugar combination that is so rarely done right. In short, that shit was amazing. The reason why I describe the pie chiefly in the past tense is because by and large it is GONE. And we're not talking a mini pie or tartlet. This was a fully grown mature pie, and I ate over half of it. What's more, I didn't even have the couth to slice it into pieces and put it on a plate like I was an adult with dignity and self respect. Hell to the nah. I stood over that pie with a spoon and just had my way with it. I didn't even take it out of its cute little window box.

This morning I have a tinge of a stomach ache, and I am still trying to decide how I feel about the carnage I left behind. If I'm being totally honest, I kinda don't care.

I know I've been preaching that we aren't dead and we can't live in a box where all powerful, great and wonderfully fattening foods don't exist. But I'm wondering if I'll ever get to the point where I don't just go ape shit when I see something like a beautiful golden brown hill of fresh apple pie or any large quantity of something delicious and totally contrary to losing weight.

I have always struggled with compulsive eating. It was the worst when I was in college. I'd buy a box of cookies or a big bag of chips to celebrate something, and then I'd start eating. The more I ate, the guiltier I felt, and then I'd have to eat the rest of the bag/box I'd bought just to get it out of my room. Then I'd beat myself up for being such an incredible failure, and eventually the cycle would repeat itself. Fortunately for me, at that time I had the metabolism to support that kind of destructive behavior. Not so much anymore, yet it appears that awful habit still has the ability to rear its vile, ugly head.

I don't want to do all this work and then just backslide right back to square one. I've lost over 50 pounds before and it didn't stick. I realize I may be overreacting a tad, but I'm trying to decide if I'm going about this all wrong. Should I try to allow myself a slice of pie/pumpkin chocolate chip muffin (the latest food fantasy I've been having - I really miss those) here and there instead of just attempting to abstain for the most part? I have been able to find lighter options to satisfy my monster of a sweet tooth - but man once that pie crossed the threshold of my front door - I was a goner.

If I go to my meeting on Monday and I've gained weight, well I just don't know. I've gained a little and come back from that, but that was barely two weeks ago. And the more I think about it, the more irritable I become, I'm close to irate about it all in fact.

I'm tired of constantly thinking about food all the time. I'm tired of having to work so hard when there are people in the world that don't have to. I'm tired of still looking in the mirror and being disappointed. And I'm REALLY tired of taking a minor mistake and turning it into an excuse to be pissed off at the world, short tempered with my family, and your garden variety nasty bitch. I'm tired of being so hard on myself. And I just don't know how to stop. I've have spent my entire life putting insane amounts of pressure on myself to be perfect. Countless people have told me I need to stop beating myself up. And that's it. It stops there with the recommendation to let go of that behavior. Nobody has offered a suggestion as to how to stop that habit, and I haven't a clue as to how to do it on my own. Maybe some people can just stop, but I can't.

I know it is all tied into some seriously deep-seated anger that I have decided to direct at myself, but again, no idea as to how to empty that barrel of monkeys. I'm truly at a loss.

At least I didn't eat the entire damn pie.