In my last blog post I talked about my reaction to a weigh-in that didn’t go as planned. I’d written most of the post before the end of the week and it was upbeat and positive as I was happy with my food intake and exercise. But, when that didn’t translate into weight loss I dropped the ball. BIG TIME. I hung in there for a while and spent two days sulking and feeling blah. You know that feeling… you’re going about your everyday business but there’s something bad lurking in the back of your mind and every so often it peeks out and you are reminded why indeed you should be in bed buried under a mound of blankets.

When eventually I gave into temptation and dealt with the disappointment as best I know how (ie. over-eating crap food), I felt emotionally sated, though guilty and naturally a bit too full!

And to top this off, I had a half-written post about how well things were going on my diet and weight loss program. ‘Swimmingly,’ I believe I said in the first part of the post.

My big quandary was whether to use what I’d written at all; gloss over the (lack of) weight loss; shelve the draft post completely and write about something else; or write something misery-laden and more in line with my overall mood. Decisions, decisions.

I’ve also become a bit more nervous about what I talk about in this blog, so while I felt the need to confess my sins, I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to own up to MORE bad behaviour. So…. I lay in bed (too full to sleep) and pondered.

Eventually I realised I needed to be honest. I couldn’t claim that I was sticking to my 1400 calories/day, if I’d had a huge blowout and inhaled twice that many in 30 minutes. I felt that my readers, ie. YOU, needed to know about my slip-up because NOT owning-up to it felt dishonest. I might have many (many) other failings but I always try to act with integrity.

And, as you’d now be aware (having committed my last blog post to heart), I went with the confession.

But something else struck me as I lay there like a beached whale in my dusty pink sheets (again, not covered in dust, but the colour). I don’t want to delve into the ‘why I feel the need to confess’ thing because I’m sure it’s something that a few years of psychotherapy could resolve (!!!); but it occurred to me that I really was  telling you ONLY because I felt I needed to be honest. I wasn’t seeking absolution (though neither was I seeking recrimination). I just wanted to be up-front.

Because, in reality… you really didn’t need to know. I’m sure other dieters, bloggers and ordinary-folk alike have calorie blow-outs. I’m sure some eat pieces of cake and don’t feel the need to confess to the world at large. Others may eat a packet of crisps or some biscuits. My black/white thinking is such that I’m REALLY REALLY good, or … you know… not. So if I’m being ‘good’, I’m not eating cake or biscuits… There’s still no moderation in my world.

However, the thing that really struck me (and I’m finally getting to the point of this post – in the last paragraph!) was that, for the first time I really thought about WHO I was disappointing; WHO I was letting down. Because it’s not you (sorry about that readers). It’s me. It’s ONLY me. It occurred to me that I’m really only accountable to myself, and I don’t know why I’ve never realised that before. I mean, I knew the buck stopped with me, but I’ve always felt this huge sense of obligation to others. I can understand how having people know that you are supposedly exercising and being healthy is helpful and ‘helps’ keep you more accountable. However, when it really comes down to it, the guilt I carry should only be my own. I’m not failing the world at large. Mankind will not suffer. I need to get some perspective, but more importantly I need to remember who I’m doing this for. And (again, sorry) it’s not you; it’s me.