It has absolutely been a crazy few months. Lots of family stuff, lots of health stuff, lots of stuff in general. I'm starting to realize that my life thrives on the chaotic times that never seem to end, yet, somehow, I seemed to have learned to live amidst the chaos.
Despite the chaos, though, I have managed to somewhat stabilize my weight. This is a very good thing, and a part of me is quite pleased with my progress. Only a few short months ago, I was barely able to maintain from week to week. A year ago, I wasn't even eating enough to sustain basic metabolic function. I've come a long way! I mean, I even saw *that* number a few weeks ago, and while it startled me, it didn't derail my progress like it did last time. Talk about progress!
In a few weeks, I'll be having minor surgery. This comes after a two and a half year journey and dozens upon dozens of doctor visits, so I'm actually kind of excited that there is not only an answer to this issue, but a solution, too.
Here's what I don't get.
In thinking about my progress with my health and eating, I can see how far I've come, and how much better I'm doing. So why then, has the nasty little voice in my mind been telling me that as soon as the surgery is over, and I'm recovered from that, I'm going back to my (not-so) good buddy who never has my best interest in mind in the first place? Why then, would I throw away the hard work of the past few months once the surgery is done, only to go backwards in my recovery? Why on earth would I even entertain those thoughts?
I just don't get it.