What's eating at me?

This is an ironic title. Hang on and you'll see why. First of all, thanks to old friend, Marti (Marti isn't old, but, we were jr. high friends, which was a long time ago) for sharing her blog with me. We've reconnected on FB (that is 'Facebook' for the two or three of you reading this that might not know) and we are having alot of fun getting reacquainted. Anyway, she showed me hers, so, this has prompted me back to do mine.

I'm not going to get into all that has happened since my last post. Back in school. That is great. Still have a cleaning business. That is also great. Kids are ok, not in jail. Health for everyone, is good.

But today, not so great. I've been on WW (weight watchers) now for a week. I had one of those 'aha' moments when I was really pissed at a waitress for taking away my food before I had finished it. I wanted to bring the rest home and eat, alone, watching re-runs of Wife Swap. And, she took it away. Never mind that I was having dinner with dear friends, that dinner upstaged the conversation. That was the moment I decided that having fat thighs would eventually be a thing of the past. So, onto WW.

I'm doing fine. But... now I know what shakes and drive-thrus and bowls of this and nibbles of that have functioned as. They are my pacifier. I know that is no big shock or anything, but, without them, I feel the feelings. And, some of the feelings, suck.

I'm driving my daughter to work this morning. Everything is fine. We part ways, and, BAM. I am back on May 4, 2004, when my husband died. I am picturing him, dead, in an alley... I am back at that moment. I begin to sweat. I feel nauseous and just unbelievably sad. But, what to do? Instinct would have led me to a drive thru or a 'line' of fig newtons. But, nope. Just fruit and wheat and fish and veggies and cold bottled water awaited me at home.

What I needed was open arms and a shoulder to cry on. But, I was on my own in the car.
From a 'professional' standpoint (I guess I can say that, as I am a card-carrying member of the NASW now) this is a classic anxiety attack or, a version of PTSD. But, this is the thing: I haven't had one of 'these' in years. So, is this what I have to look forward to, the price I pay for wanting to eat healthy?

I really grappled with this today. Is it worth it, to want to eat healthier if feelings that are raw and jagged and unpredictable are lurking beneath the blubber? Again, from a professional standpoint, yes, it is worth it. But, I must proceed, with caution, AND a good therapist. So, time to look for one....

Oh boy.