Nothing makes me feel more fat than jeans. Either the waist band is up SO HIGH that I can't breath when I sit down, or they're constantly falling off because if I wore them tight enough that they have something to hold onto, I would have fat spilling out all over the place. Jeans just don't fit my body right and so, I don't wear them. At least not very often. I do have one pair that I can wear that makes me my butt look good, but most of the time it's not worth the rest of it.
I'm ranting a little. I guess I'm in a ranty mood.
This week was okay, as far as normalized eating goes. I'm still working toward the eating at regular intervals thing, but most days I've been eating 3 meals and a couple of snacks throughout the day, and most of the time I am not trying to talk myself out of eating. The weight that I gained after starting this experiment has gone away, even though telling you that means that I have to say that yes, even though it's recommended I stop in my workbook, I am continuing to weigh myself several times a week. And while I still always make the disappointed noise every time, I don't think it's affecting my self-worth that much.
Things are actually picking up in a very good direction. My social life is progressing toward being rather productive and full of wonderful people, old* and new**; my dad is ...well, I don't quite know what to say about my dad, except that he's stable and totally not dying; and I was chosen to receive a gift from a jeweler I follow on FB who did a "tell us why you deserve to be chosen to receive a gift from us" thing, and I told them the abbreviated version of what's been going on in the last several months.
I feel better and more aligned with my own power and all that, but it's still a daily (even moment to moment) struggle to keep that going. I feel like I can identify less with my disordered eating, and more with meeting the needs of my body, but there's still a part of me that really wants to cling to that source of identity. This is normal and human, but I don't have to cling, and I don't have to react to my desire to cling; if you know what I'm saying.
Anyway, gonna cut it short. I have a wicked headache right now and should probably get some sleep***.
*Okay, not that old... I'm not robbing the grave or anything
***By which I mean watch Craig Ferguson