Ouch!

Yesterday could have been a much better day. It wouldn't have taken a whole lot more effort to row a little longer or eat a little better. I fell off the wagon … hard.

Many dieters take their weigh-in day as a "free" day, relaxing the usual mealtime rules and indulging in forbidden fruit. The theory is that they have the rest of the week to be 'good,' making up for one day's lapse in judgement. I've never consciously followed this rule, but that's what happened yesterday.

If I'd lost any weight this week, you would have – of course – read about it yesterday. You probably would have heard the shouting all the way from the Middle of Nowhere. But I stayed the same again, and simply caved in to a sense of hopelessness.

I'm doing much better this morning; mornings frequently are full of resolve and determination, and I hope this feeling lasts all week. Writing about it helps so much!

Here's what happened: I was rowing yesterday morning and decided to see what was going on in the world. Would I have been better off if I'd just listened to music, instead of watching the news? I don't know. Learning about the deaths of the little Amish girls in Pennsylvania shocked me in a way that's difficult to describe.

How could anyone do that? I read the Times story this morning [I hope that link works]. This man's wife describes him as "a devoted father who had always taken the time to play with his three children, ferry them to soccer practice and birthday parties, and had 'never once refused to help change a diaper.' " That just doesn't reconcile with the vile demon who executed and injured all those little girls.

I took the news to the two Amish families who have moved here this summer. One came from Pennsylvania, but not from the Lancaster area. They appreciated someone coming to let them know, and I left feeling helpless, and sad.

And then I ate my house, which didn't change or help the situation even one iota. This morning I still feel helpless, sadder than sad, and I've taken a giant step backward in taking care of myself. Today I'm starting over.