Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Even if it kills me

As most of you don't know, I'm doing the whole 30 with Jennie and Sadie. Along with a long list of other things, we're not allowed to eat any extra sugar. Quite remarkably, I have had almost no temptations! Eating healthy has been so easy.

That is, it was so easy -- until last night. First of all, we had FHE at the bishop's house. Jennie and I ate dinner beforehand so that we wouldn't be hungry. But of course there was dessert. And of course the bishop's adorable seven-year-old daughter, Abby, who adores me and whom I adore, came up to me with a huge bowl of cookies and cream ice cream (one of my top five) drizzled in chocolate sauce and topped with Oreos and said, "Bronwyn! I got two spoons so that we could share!"

If that wasn't enough, on the drive home, I got a text from Michael that said: "Crepes at our place around 9:30. Be tharrrrr." What the heck. I ended up going, but before I headed over I ate a bunch of strawberries so that I wouldn't eat those scrumptious crepes.

Okay, I thought, so far so good -- I am successfully staying strong against my temptations. I even passed by free cookies in the Wilk today.

Tonight I mad apple chicken for dinner. Healthy and delicious. A few hours later, I found myself sitting alone in my kitchen and for whatever reason, needing to eat sugar. I drank some orange juice, but needed more. I ate part of a peach, but it was rotten. I sat in anxiety and distress and extreme inner conflict. After some debate, the id took over. I grabbed a spoon and a bag of brown sugar and went to town. I ate at least a cup of brown sugar. Yup. Just spooned it straight into my mouth. I then grabbed a canister of Stephen's hot chocolate powder and -- can you guess? -- spooned that straight into my mouth as well.

When Jennie and Sadie came home, I felt drowned in guilt. I'd let them down, big time. I had to confess. And I did. Mid-confession, I started sobbing hysterically, and consequently, the roommates started laughing hysterically, which made me cry harder. Just picture me sitting at a kitchen table, face in my hands, and tears falling down my chin and onto my shirt. Picture Jennie sitting across from me, hitting the table and unable to breathe. Sadie was standing to my right, clutching her stomach with her eyes closed, yet trying to keep them open to watch me because it was such a spectacle. The more I cried, the more they laughed. It was a vicious cycle that lasted about seven minutes and resulted in a mascara streaked face for me and sore abs for the other two.

...Yeah. I don't know why I had such an emotional breakdown. I'm still sad about it though.

But I have a new resolve. I WILL DO THE WHOLE THIRTY DAYS! Even if it kills me. Which it won't... Quite the contrary, actually.

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