Anxiety

Yesterday was about the worst day I've had in recent months.  I woke up on the wrong side of the bed; my sweet boy woke up with an ear infection which led to a doctor's appointment which led to his ears being checked by the doctor AND by his medical student which led to two meltdowns which led to my t-shirt being used as a tear catcher/snot rag/napkin; a can of tuna fish exploded in my face (don't ask); I almost locked my keys in the car with my child inside; and my overall anxiety level was at about a 100 out of 10.

My anxiety level has been at a constant high in recent weeks.  You see, I have several friends going through tough times right now.  Divorce, separation, cancer, and overall life stress are what I have been coaching these ladies through.  I think I give too much of myself sometimes, almost like I have to take their burden as my own.  And by carrying their burden   -- and mine -- I can hardly breathe.  Yesterday all that I was carrying came crashing down.  I felt as close to a meltdown as I ever have, almost like the room was closing in on me.

I think through my flab to fab challenge, I have discovered that I am a stress eater.  Since I have cut most of my go-to stress eating foods out of my diet, I generally turn to exercise to relieve my stress.  Luckily for me (not), I took this week off from working out.  Since I didn't exercise yesterday, to cope with all of my stress and anxiety, I turned to food.  And I didn't turn to broccoli...

I turned to glorious, wonderful, sugar/dairy/gluten laden zebra cakes.  I had to go to Target last night to pick up my son's antibiotics and as I blazed through the aisles, I saw these glistening in the florescent lights. Without a second thought, I threw them in my basket and motored on.  I opened the box as I got into the car.  Four cakes later, I pulled into my driveway in a sugary haze.  I didn't stop there though.  After we administered Brady's medicine and got him to bed, I ate four more.  To save me from eating the last two -- at my request -- Terry threw them in the trash.  Thank goodness he stepped in, because if I'd eaten two more, I probably would've been sick.

Let this be a lesson... don't take a week off from working out when it is your sole means of stress relief.