I keep on telling my boyfriend that I'm gaining weight on purpose because being fat is warmer in the winter than being skinny is.
But I'm lying.
The ugly and flubbery truth is this: I know I should be eating better and not putting everything I see into my mouth. I know this because I've lost almost a 3rd grader in pounds. I know this because I can whip up quick and healthy meals and control my portions. Lately, I just. can't. help. myself. I am eating and eating and then weirding myself out about it. I deserve a "vacation" from restriction. I have done so well for so long. Eating keeps me awake and energized to face this ridiculous schedule I have.
After a rough week (probably 2-3 since we're REALLY being honest) I am ready to admit I have a "problem."
Food is my drug and I am relapsing.