I've had a reasonable weekend marred by being depressed and feeling sorry for myself - and today I'm thoroughly miserable, batchelors, self pitying and sulky. Don't you wish you could spend all day with me today?
It's not self-loathing or feeling like a failure after Friday's binge - although I do feel some of that of course. But my logical brain (what there is of it) does accept that one binge in 5 or 6 weeks is actually progress and a massive step compared to the binge every other day pattern I once developed, and having moved on from it a bit I can also see that although I did end up feeling sick I still ate dramatically less than I used to when bingeing, as well as eating better food while it lasted. No, this is all down to the back pain I'm still suffering. (and the irritation with myself for doing this to myself). I thought I'd put back pain in the past - I haven't had so much trouble with it for about 10 years and I had thought I'd strengthened my back enough not to have to worry about it any more, but here I am again, once more demonstrating how much I've let slide. I was actively preparing to start training again as soon as my sinuses etc recovered from my recent bug; now I'm wondering whether I'll ever be fit enough again (yes, I over exaggerate things. I haven't had a limb amputated so realistically, yes, I will. But I'm the world's most introverted Drama Queen)
I'm sleeping badly because I'm uncomfortable. Moving from sitting to standing is uncomfortable. I feel really old. And I'm sulking at the universe.
On the plus side, putting all this down in writing reveals I do have enough self-awareness to recognise that I'm making a mountain out of a (really big) mole hill. I'm slightly embarrassed - but posting it anyway. Perhaps next time I disappear up my own ass like this I'll re-read it and come to my senses more quickly....