We went food shopping today. For the first time in a long time, so long I can’t actually remember how long it’s been, I didn’t buy chocolate.
I started doing this at some point earlier this year. I’d buy a bar of really dark chocolate which I’d break up into the ten squares and then have a piece after dinner. Then it became two pieces after dinner. Then it was a piece after lunch and two pieces after dinner. Quite soon it went from being a bar a week to a bar in a few days, sometimes two days.
Sometimes, albeit rarely, one day.
So then I’d be out of chocolate, but I wasn’t going to drive all the way back to the cheap supermarket I got the chocolate from just for a damn bar of chocolate. So I’d go to the local shop and get something even worse. Once a week. Twice a week.
I’m not on antidepressants anymore and haven’t been since the year before last, but there have been times lately when I’ve wondered if I should be. Between the stress of the money situation and generally feeling so utterly inadequate, I’ve turned more and more to food, and bad food, food barely worthy of the name ‘food’, for comfort. I know sugar doesn’t help my mood but I’ve found as long as I’m above a certain threshold, it doesn’t actually affect me.
Lately, clearly, I’ve been below the threshold. And I ate the sugar anyway.
So I stopped eating it. Yesterday I had no chocolate at all. This wasn’t by choice. I actually got my days mixed up, thinking Sunday was Monday and I’d be getting more chocolate the next day so I ate the last two pieces on Sunday. Which produced a Monday without chocolate.
Which didn’t kill me.
Not that I thought it would, but I did have that hankering for a sweet something after dinner. And I was going to do myself some toast or something and then I thought, no. I’ll have a cup of tea and then see how I feel.
Three hours later I realised I had forgotten about the chocolate altogether.
So today we are on Day #2 of No Chocolate. There isn’t even any chocolate in the house. I’m not sure how I feel about this. I know it’s a good thing. I know (I hope) I’ll see an impact on my body as well as my mood.
Mostly I worry that, like with every other good habit I’ve ever started, I’ll peter out at some point. I’ll decide I don’t have to stick to it because I’m fine now, or whatever.
It’s why I’m still blogging today, even though I don’t have much of anything to say. I want to blog every day. I want to not eat food that makes me ill. I want to be slimmer and healthier and more productive and, yes, better known, albeit for the right reasons.
(Not because I’m crying out for help because I don’t want to kill myself.)
None of that happens overnight. It doesn’t even happen over a week or a month or maybe a year. But the only way to blog every day is to, well, blog every day, regardless if I feel like I have something to say or not. I mean, clearly I have *something* to say. I’m 543 words into this post and it’s still relevant to me. You may well feel otherwise.
The only way to become the person I want to be – the blogger, the healthy eater, the slim person, the writer, is to blog, eat healthily, slim down, write. And that means doing it every day, even if it’s hard, even if it feels really quite pointless because progress is s o s l o w and/or when you get right down to it, who the fuck cares?
And the answer is…
So it’s worth it.