I knew it was coming, but that doesn't make it any easier.
So I looked forward to my weigh-in on Monday. I thought I was going to see the usual drop of 2 lbs., possibly more.
The scale landed exactly where it did the previous week. Nothing. Not an ounce.
I was crushed. It didn't matter that the Jenny Craig consultant warned me this was coming. It didn't matter that I know in my heart it isn't about a number on the scale, but about a healthier way of living. I felt like crying.
"Just keep doing what you're doing," the consultant said. "You're doing great, and you are exactly where you're supposed to be."
I almost had to laugh, because people in recovery said this to me, when I was new and struggling. I say it now, too, to people who are new. It's an awful feeling, to be putting your heart and soul into something and feeling like it's getting you nowhere.
I called someone when I was about two months sober, and said, "I thought that once I stopped drinking that everything would be okay, but it is actually harder than ever."
I went for a walk, drank a ton of water, ate an apple, and distracted myself. But all afternoon the Sun Chips in the pantry were just calling to me. "We are better for you than regular chips," they said. "We only have 110 calories per serving, and we're high in fiber! One little handful won't hurt."
"Screw You," I said to the bag. "You'll taste good for one minute, and then I'll hate myself, and I'll eat more. So FUCK OFF."
F Bomb therapy. Give it try. It works.
A friend on the Booze Free Brigade posted a quote that day, at the exact moment I needed to hear it. I don't even know who said it originally, because for once Google is coming up short. But it helped, so much:
"I never said it would be easy, I only said it would be worth it."