Wednesday, October 23, 2013

It has been confirmed. I'm an emotional eater.

Okay so I've totally figured out I'm an emotional eater.  Monday was a perfect storm of events culminating in the costumer asking me to fit into a shirt that she was convinced was going to be WAAAAAY too small.  I could tell from one look that it was going to fit, no problem.  However she kept hovering around me as I was changing repeating that I had to do whatever I could to fit into this shirt or else I would look different for everyone else.  Needless to say my first look was correct and the shirt was actually not snug at all.  She was relieved and I was pissed, thinking "just how fat did this woman think I am?"

First of all, I have done costumes for a show before and I know that people are sensitive about their size.  I always try my best to find clothes that fit the character and will make the person feel good.  That can't always happen, and I'm sorry to anyone that I had to put into a sack dress.  Also I've been there A LOT.  Secondly, the costumer is doing an AMAZING job clothing 30+ people in many different outfits.  Also to conclude, she and the other lady have to make lots of different shapes from super skinny to curvy look exactly the same and sexy.  Basically, upon reflection I realize that it wasn't about me, instead it was her thinking out loud and it was just the final irritation that threw me over the edge.

We got out of rehearsal for The Producers at 9:30 and both Mike and I had had a frustrating day, so instead of going home, we went to IHOP.  Instead of just being comforted with the hot chocolate, I got chocolate chip pancakes AND mac and cheese.  Instead of just eating half of everything like I planned, I ate it all and wanted more.  I had been doing so well and then I let my emotions get the best of me and I felt like I had blown it.  I did feel better, but it probably had more to do with the venting than with the food.

In the morning, it was time for my weekly weigh in and I seriously considered skipping it.  I knew that I was still in a negative space, and I was afraid if I had truly blown it, I would run to the freezer and eat an ice cream bar because, fuck it!  I knew that I couldn't run from it, I had to rip the band-aid off and I had checked the freezer and there was no ice cream so my diet would be safe from my emotions.  I closed my eyes, took off my shoes (saves about a pound), and seriously considered stripping down (another pound gone!), but it would have skewed the results.  Damn scientific methodology!  Anyhoo, I step on the scale and crack my eye open and my mouth dropped open.  I was at my goal weight for this week!  Despite the culinary emotional outburst, I had done it!  I made a goal!  Needless to say that put a spring in my step.  I'm not naive enough to believe that I can pig out each time I'm upset, but it does comfort me that it won't COMPLETELY mess up the plan if I have one teensy- okay huge- culinary outburst.  Now if I could somehow avoid the student provided baked-goods at work. . .

The moral of the story is don't beat yourself up about caving in, just don't run to the Haagen-Daas each time you're upset.  (Might take up kick-boxing to deal with that ;))

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