The pants I was so excited to fit into a few months ago are so big now that they chafe my skin at the waist. I'm fitting into all of my cute clothes, my bras don't bulge, and I can foresee a future where I can buy clothes wherever I want without worrying whether they will have my size. Everything is cool, right?
This is typically the point where I begin to self-sabotage. And I am starting to see it happen. Somewhere in the dark recesses of my gray matter, my fear takes over. What will I blame my problems on, if not my weight? What will I do with the attention from men that I am ill equipped to handle? Am I capable of living life as a thinner person without drinking too much and losing control of my morals?
When I take a serious and objective look back, alcohol has been a big problem for me whenever I began to fit into regular sized clothes. I used the alcohol to stifle the self doubt. I used it to feel like I was on top of the world and in control of everything. It's sinister because the truth is the exact opposite.
If I am going to be able to live as a thinner person, I have to learn how to do it without using anything to quell those voices in my head. I am going to need a new coping mechanism that doesn't involve a substance. I don't know where it will come from, but I believe I can find it if I look.
So, the girl scout cookies didn't undo me, and neither will my own gray matter. Not this time. I hope I hope I hope I hope
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