This year for Valentine’s day — the Universe gave me the gift of hitting Rock Bottom!
Imagine it. It’s mid February. It’s cold. No, no — I mean C-O-L-D! -15 degrees with wind chill. We were frozen solid in New Jersey this year. The house is full of love. Beautiful, poignant cards from my husband and my daughter. Everything was warm — the only thing missing was C-a-k-e! Cupcakes. Valentine cupcakes, to be exact.
My daughter Erin and I made them. Soft, warm, mouth-watering yellow cake cupcakes. Smothered in soft, sweet fluffy whipped frosting and sweet pink lovey-dovey Valentines Day sugar. Perfection. I couldn’t wait to eat one.
alright….I couldn’t wait to eat 6.
And I did.
6 on Saturday.
And another 6 on Sunday.
Yea – in Weight watchers terms, that’s 30 ppv on Saturday. And another 30 on Sunday. Oh yes, I KNOW the ppv. Hey, this isn’t my first cupcake rodeo. I’ve worked out the recipe and the points plus values at some point in my past when I was trying to be accountable. The difference this year — I wasn’t trying. H#LL, I was trying NOT TO TRY!
60 ppvs of sugar in less than 48 hours.
I felt sick.
Green, stomach turning over kind of sick.
And yet, I still returned to the kitchen and stared at those cupcakes…ready to eat #7 on Sunday. I stood there. and stood there. And finally thought THE thought.
“Diane. what are you looking for? what do you really need? Because it’s obviously NOT in those cupcakes.”
Rock Bottom. We don’t even have to look this one up in the dictionary, do we? We ALL know what this one means. What it feels like.
Even my “go to drug of choice” had failed me. Rock Bottom.
I went to Peter, who was working in the home office. I sat on his lap, and asked him to help me get back on track. Help me “become” who I was “becoming” over the last 2 years. Of course he was supportive, and agreed….as he wiped pink sugar off my face, out of my hair….. I WAS A MESS!
We went and got my daughter Erin — called “LAST CALL” on the cupcakes — and threw them away. No — we’re not banishing cupcakes forever. We just made a group decision that we had all had e.n.o.u.g.h. More than enough. Beyond enough.
How I know, and I mean KNOW this is Rock Bottom, and not a false bottom — is that I don’t even feel like crying. Nope. All those tears of my food-victimhood?? GONE. CRIED OUT. SPENT. All that is left this time is a “pissed off” sense of WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELF AGAIN, Diane. But even that only lasted for few minutes. My mind quickly transitioned back to that girl who used to run 6-milers down Old Stage Road “to Timothy and Back”, as easily as she could eat 6 cupcakes.
I’m going back to that girl. Rumor has it…..she still can eat a cupcake now and then! 🙂
Ciao for now….Diane