I am having a really bad night. Panic attack...the kind that comes for no good reason. Right when I was going to start making a sensible dinner it just hit me. There was no way I was going to be capable of putting a dinner together at this point so I frantically called Hubby and he brought home pizza. Again.
Yes...I ate it.
Last night I had chips and salsa in bed. With a huge hunk of french bread on the side.
Oh, I know it is getting tedious hearing about all my food indiscretions. Blogs are supposed to encourage and all that jazz. Whatever. I'm honestly just trying to document my eating messes so that when the scales go up, I remember why.
Right now, I'm just hoping to get through the night without falling apart, so if I eat badly then I eat badly. I don't care.
Anyone else struggle with depression/anxiety/panic disorder? Do you know the feeling of which I speak...not caring about gaining if it helps you through the next five minutes? I am so there. I just stinking suck tonight.