It’s amazing what a little bit of bread can do to a girl

At the beginning of the year I embarked on a bit of a personal journey. I had dubbed it “New Year, New You (aka me!!)”. I decided enough was enough and I needed to take control of my life. I switched my blog from one server to another and began to blog regularly. I kicked my Etsy shop into high gear and churned out a ton of products. I began writing my novel and was loving it. But the biggest thing I was doing was taking care of my health. I decided that I needed to change my eating habits because they were starting to become the end of me.

I did the Dukan diet for several months and had great results. This diet is a high protein diet with several stages aimed at getting you to not only lose the weight but change the way your body wants food. I will swear by it, because while I was doing it I did not crave carbs or sugar. I had been able to in a sense detox from these and change my habits. I also managed to drop 15 pounds and was finally happy about my weight for the first time since my daughter was born. I was able to maintain this new weight right up until a couple of months or so ago where I just crashed.

I had a bad day (a REALLY bad day) and I came home and ate a pizza. No, not a slice. A whole friggen one. The thin crust ones from most groceries stores here that sometimes go on sale for 3 for 10. Yeah, those suckers. I sat there, at my kitchen table and ate the whole thing. Of course this was before my Mr. could get home from work because I didn’t want to disappoint him. I knew he would ask me why I was doing this (he was very supportive throughout my diet) and I didn’t want to feel like I let him down. More so because I knew I was letting myself down. I had done so well, worked so hard, and I slipped.

And most people wouldn’t chastise themselves for slipping up once. But I am not a person who does anything just once. And I knew that once I slipped up big enough it would be my downfall. The pizza lead to one thing after another and now I don’t feel great anymore.

Carbs are my killer.

They bloat me up, they make me tired and they make me want more carbs. And doing that clouds me over. When I was doing the Dukan I was more active, more alert, more overall happy. I walked with greater confidence, I felt more creative, and I had a want to strive and move forward.

Since Pizzagate 2012 I have felt more blah, slow, not motivated. And it’s all because of bad carbs! It’s a really hard habit to kick. Worse than coffee or sugar is for me. If I don’t eat carbs of some sorts, I dream about them. Not even lying. I dream about my Mr.’s grandmother’s AMAZING lasagna last night. Doesn’t help that there is a bowl of it in my fridge. When I went to grab my lunch this morning (I made it last night; asparagus, green beans and salmon) Mr. Cheesy Lasagna of Goodness told me we had a date later. I’m trying my best to stand him up.

My writer side is craving creativity. The rest of me is craving carbs. I’ve realized that both these sides do not work well together. I eat carbs, I become sluggish and lack focus. Then I get a WIP animal scratching my brains out. I don’t eat breads and the likes and I become refreshed and insightful with my work. But then I have a carbo-monster inside me screaming for a bagel.

It appears that this is another of the “feats of strength” of my life. The eternal battle to find the awesome and the balance.

One more day, one more battle.

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