Have you ever fallen off the wagon so hard you’re not exactly sure how to get back on?
You sit there on the ground, dazed and confused, not quite sure what happened. You’re bruised, you’re shocked, but – most of all – you’re disappointed that you let it happen.
Yeah, that’s me right now.
Just three weeks ago, I celebrated the fact that I had squeezed into my bridesmaid’s dress for my brother-in-law’s wedding. I had blogged consistently the weeks [months] leading up to the goal. I held myself accountable. And, damn it, I made it happen. I achieved my goal, despite all of the obstacles leading up to it.
The second that zipper went down, the horse must have bucked or something, because I FLEW off that wagon and haven’t been able to spot it since.
Did I mention I had pasta and a heath bar for dinner last night? Yeah. Where the $#@! did that wagon go?
Despite my utter disgust with myself right now, I can’t see to find the motivation to fix it.
Fortunately, years of dieting has ingrained some good habits into me, regardless of the fact that my wagon is off on the Oregon Trail or something right now.
I pack lunch, which normally consists of a salad or a lean cuisine. I keep raw almonds and protein bars at work. Dinner, of course, is another story. One that I’m too exhausted/depressed to tell at the moment.
I’m in a funk. Can someone show me the way back to my happy place? I could use a trail guide right about now.
In the trough of my wave,