TMI - Chicken strips are the devil
Okay, so this post might be a lot TMI, so please don't read if you don't want to hear about anything nausea-inducing.
I just ate breaded chicken strips for the very first time in about 3 months. I had three. They were dipped in sugar and high fructose corn syrup (aka barbecue sauce). Now, 15 minutes later, my body is rebelling against me and I feel like I'm going to shit out my entire stomach. Not only do I feel disgusting, but I'm pretty disgusted with myself.
I haven't felt this sick all summer. I am never, ever eating fried or breaded anything ever again. No, seriously. I'm not just saying that because I feel like shit right now. This is like, a forever thing. This was just the catalyst. I'm gonna exercise my willpower and cut it out entirely. I know how much that means giving up, but like they say (whoever they are), being fit feels better than food tastes. When you think about it, doesn't require a lot of thinking at all.
The worst part? I used to eat like this every day! Fucking fried chicken, mashed potatoes, ranch dressing (which is just mayonnaise with garlic thrown in), and cheese on just about everything. What the hell have I already done to my body?
My condolence, just like every other time I discovered how badly I was hurting myself, is knowing that it stops today. That's just poison.
I think this must be what food poisoning feels like, come to think of it.
I'm 22 pounds down, but that number has so very little to do with how much I've changed. I can't believe how much better I feel. I can't believe how happy I am now. I just constantly feel energized and so...happy for no reason at all. Maybe this is how people are supposed to feel, and I just never knew what I was missing. I have 15 pounds left until I have my BMI within normal ranges, and that doesn't seem far away at all. It's not just my body that's changing; it's my entire outlook on life.
But back to the chicken thing, I called my boyfriend, nearly in tears (no joke) because I felt so bad about eating shit and making myself sick. He reminded me that he still likes me no matter what. He liked me before, he likes me now, he'll like me tomorrow too. In retrospect, I'm pretty sure he was trying not to laugh at me. Then, he let me know that crying over food was being just a touch too obsessive and I agreed with him. Going to the gym this afternoon to work out my self-loathing on a treadmill.
I have the best boyfriend ever.