I was debating whether or not to post about this, as I haven't seen a lot of screw-ups on these pages, but I've got a doozy. I'm five and a half weeks out. I've been following my (very restrictive) diet to the letter almost all the time. My only deviations were a little Thanksgiving stuffing and some regular cheese at a party, where I'd brought deviled eggs for myself but didn't plan on being there so long and DO YOU KNOW THERE'S A LIMIT TO HOW MANY FREAKING DEVILED EGGS A PERSON CAN EAT IN FIVE HOURS? Lesson learned on that one. Next party I brought something I could live off for a year. Holiday parties everywhere. Anyway, the cookies. So, yesterday was a crap-tastic day. A member of my immediate family is struggling with mental health issues and let's just say everything came to a nice sharp point yesterday morning. I was wound up tight, and it just so happened I had "make cookies" on my calendar for a cookie exchange this weekend. In hindsight this is laughable, but in the moment I truly thought I was being proactive and getting those cookies made a day or two early, and wow, am I rocking this mom thing. Fast forward several hours and I can provide you with the following truths. One, I was making those cookies to eat because I was emotionally devastated. Two, my sleeve can hold far more cookies than I would have thought possible from the meager amounts of chicken that manage to fill me up. Three, there IS such a thing as dumping syndrome for sleevers, and it's a horrible experience. And four, it's amazing how quick your brain can be to jump from "really bad day and a subsequent bad choice" to "I'm a complete failure and I'm never going to be able to do this." So there. Those are the highlights of the cookie incident. I went to bed early, feeling so sick and so darn sorry for myself. What a loser! I almost deleted that sentence. I'm feeling some compassion toward the me of yesterday, and I know I'm not a loser. I know one mistake does not the future make, and I also know there will be others. But man, that was hard. It was hard to live with in the moment, and afterwards. It makes me think twice about even going to the stupid cookie exchange. The situation at home is ongoing and my stress level has been hard to manage. I'll meet the mom for coffee instead, explain I just wasn't able to make that particular holiday party, or just not take any cookies home with me and ignore the whining of my children. Ugh. I hate all of these options. I think to really be successful through this holiday season, I have to control WHAT'S IN MY HOUSE. I can go to a party or a family gathering and eat something that's not "on the list", but I can't bring it home. That's me. That's where I am, and what I have to do. Here's hoping the kids will understand.