That's all I have to say to myself. I fell off plan. Vacation overlapped with two large prednisone bursts (each lasting about a week), and there went my willpower for three weeks. THREE WEEKS. Do you know what three weeks of crappy eating does to the weight of someone who a) has the appetite of a horse thanks to prednisone, and b) can't even exercise it off? I'll tell you, it ain't pretty.
Wish me luck. I'm off the prednisone (again), starting a new drug (Imuren, another immunosuppressant to go with my Humira), and hoping to stay on track. I hope I hope I hope. When my appetite gets bigger than an desert monsoon cloud in July, it's hard to control, and one tiny slip equals a whole throwaway day.
I feel guilty, ashamed, upset with myself and adding to this is the fact that last week, after the 4th of July, I was bedridden for two days. No doubt, I eat more when I'm not feeling well and depressed, and the past three or four weeks, that has described my state. These are not excuses, per se. Not excuses at all. Just explanations.
Gone now from the house are all the goodies and treats we acquired from vacation and all the leftover 4th of July party snacks. The worst stuff in the house is stuff I don't even care to eat anymore, leaving me pretty much with only healthy options.
We are heading out to see family at the end of next month. My goal is to be about 15 pounds down from where I am now (which, sadly, puts me back to almost where I was when I last updated this blog), so that gives me 6 weeks to try to get my @#$% together. We'll see. I can only do the best I can do, but I just hope that "best" is better than what it's been lately.
