What day is it?

Yesterday was another mixed bag. No exercise in the morning. It appears I've strained the left pectoral muscle somehow. I worked out today, but was very careful of it.

There was much weepiness after speaking with a friend who essentially told me to mind my own business when I told her that her husband (who was my friend first) looked more depressed than I've ever seen him when I was there on Saturday.

These are the people who used to have the stinky, dirty dog, whom I helped move (twice), whom I've driven to the doctor, the supermarket and picked up from jail.

He said he doesn't want her to discuss their problems with me because it embarrasses him. I said, "Look, I have eyes. I can see what's going on whenever I'm there." "Well, maybe it's better that we just don't have contact that makes you feel like you need to comment." I said, "If that's the way you want it, and you feel I've been butting in, I'll butt out." Okey-dokey, Kiddo. Fend for yourself...I'm done.

It was the right thing to do, but it still was the end of a friendship of more than five years. The give and take was rather one-sided, granted, but it's difficult for me to let go of a friendship--even one that may be unhealthy for me.

Anyway, that led to a couple of hours of crying on and off. I was ready to beg off going to a pot luck 4th of July party, but friend Shana said she'd drive, the food was already prepared, and I needed to get out of the house.

People started playing out in the pool, and I hadn't brought my suit. It was too hot to sit outside, so I stayed in the house. I felt tired, and went to the guest room to lie down for a while. Hit the horizontal and there went the waterworks again. Sheesh. I never know when I'm going to start leaking about the eyes and nose anymore.

I just stayed in there for an hour or so, waiting for everyone to be done watching fireworks so Shana would be ready to go. She came in to get something out of her bag, and realized I was there. She thought I'd been taking a nap--that's why she'd left me alone.

When it was clear that I was trying to stay out of the way and not bum anyone out, she asked if I wanted to go home. I said I didn't want to spoil the party for her--we could wait until after the fireworks. She said there was at least a half hour before they would start, and she'd get me home and go back in 20 minutes--no problem. So I took her up on it.

I then proceeded to climb into bed with a half gallon of ambrosia and finish it all off. Self-sabotage, anyone? We're having a special in the back bedroom.

Every day the number on the scale goes higher. Every day I start out right and promise myself to go for one perfect day. And every day, the sun goes down and all bets are off.

I wish I could go to sleep and wake up when 20 lbs was gone. Just be away from temptation. I see what I'm doing, struggle to stop it, and get run over by the train anyway.

I'd blame it on the meds if it hadn't started more than 8 months ago. How to plant my feet and push back? I tried pulling up one of the diets and thinking about measuring and planning each tiny bit (which is how I lost the weight in the first place), and wondering where the woman who did that has gone. I need to find her again.

The mental processes of long ago are taking hold again, and I DON'T want to go there again. I need to dig in and rediscover my strength--stop making excuses and whining and just do it.