Something amazing happened tonight. I became so extremely depressed because I had had a very good day (health wise) and eaten plenty of all the right things and my stomach was bloated and I had that full uncomfy feeling. I was beginning to realize that I was looking bigger and just freaked. I guess that was just the icing on the cake to all the stress I've been feeling. So I got off the phone with my friend and began to sit down and (relapse, basically) write down a food plan for tomorrow based off of three hundred calories, thinking that I needed to lose weight now.

In the middle of all of this, I got up and went over to the mirror to look in terror at my bloated belly. I stripped off my shirt so I could see it in all its glory. And while poking and pinching at my skin in misery I must have sighed or breathed or something that contracted a muscle in my stomach. The same muscle I've been trying to the past six months how to isolate and move for my bellydancing skills to improve. It moved! Suddenly, all thoughts of three hundred calories, fat, thin, or self hatred flew out the window. I spent the last hour or two dancing around and trying on belly dance outfits and just being excited and well...loving myself.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I tore up my eating plans. And I saved myself from a relapse on accident.

The real lesson you have to learn here is that you can't sit around and wait for something to happen that will change your mind about this lifestyle. You can't plan on having all these hobbies and passions that you'll go ensue after you get better. Because, in my opinion, finding something to be passionate about is essential to getting better. I'm living proof.