It hurt. It hurts. It really, really hurts. And it makes me mad. Really mad. And I'm fighting like a beast not to let it be the world's biggest trigger for my emotional eating. Because food loves me like I am, it's happy to console me. Lumps and bumps? Food does not care.
I have all my apps updated: LoseIt!, FitBit, goals set on MapMyWalk, everything I need to keep myself accountable and on track. But who will help my heart and my brain to say that a ite of something won't be so good. That I'll regret those bites.
Tonight is a work Christmas party. Word is that the menu will have prime rib, vegetarian lasagna, and of course, desserts to die for. Recipe for disaster for an emotional eater on this trigger heavy day.
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