After a week of stress-eating and skipping the gym, Monday brings a beautiful sunrise and a fresh look on life.
Last week, my husband and I lost a very close friend. In response to the pain, I ate.
And ate. And ate.
Did I mention EATING? I haven’t heard my stomach growl in over a week.
I stood on the scale today and wasn’t shocked to see the gain:
Nearly 5 pounds up.
Before, this would have been enough to put me into a spiraling depression. Fortunately, my view on life has changed dramatically as a result of the loss.
I shrugged it off, hopped off the scale, and continued getting ready for my day.
I know an eating disorder isn’t cured over night. I also know that I will always, in the back of my mind, struggle over my weight, my eating habits, and my workout routines.
However, I would definitely say that I’m on a solid path to recovery. And I owe that to my dear friend, Greg. Rest in peace, brother.
Bon appetit, my friends,