Oh scale..

154.2.

That's what the little square box on the scale told me yesterday.
Now, exactly a week before it read "164.5". So. Yea, that was pretty freaking awesome. I only had a bowl of granola yesterday around 5 in the morning(MISTAKE. Granola is packed with calories. PACKED. And yet, I just ate another bowl. Yay for about 350 calories in about 5 minutes.) and that was the only thing, following in the footsteps of the rest of the week, that I ate all day other than my allotted apple. So anyway, 10 pounds,7 days, pretty great. Then I ruined it. I psyched myself out, I told myself that it was ok to eat yesterday. (Read:eat, not binge. Not the way it turned out). Oh my fuck, did I eat. 2 pieces of lasagna, a bowl of cheerios, another bowl of fiber 1 topped with some granola, those little pretzel thins, some of my roommates serving of ice cream… Just disgusting.
And here's the problem. I had strawberries, which are mostly water. I ate the shit in the pantry. And I kept going back for more.
Now I'm afraid to step back on the scale… I think it'll be 2 pounds higher, if not more. FUCKKKK.. sorry. I'm racing this weekend, which is kind of how I justified the lasagna (carbs for energy), but God damn, this is not going to be ok in the long run. If I want to keep looking like a fatass, I need to keep eating like this. Oh wait—I have no desire to look like that.
Ugh. I was controlling so well.
Here we go again. Starting over. One week, we want 7 more pounds to come off… Or at least down to 150 by next Friday, one week from today.
BE STRONGER THAN I AM.
-Ana