Crack Bunnies and Goals

Like Achilles, Superman, and heroes throughout time, I have a weakness.

This candy's trademarked name is "Reesters" but I personally feel it is better labelled: Crack Bunnies.   They are the perfect balance of chocolate and peanut butter and perfect to just pop in your mouth and impossible to stop eating once I start.  Even once I hit the point of feeling slightly ill, I just can't stop.

Addiction isn't pretty, people.

I came up with some good goals a couple weeks ago and actually am well on my way to achieving them, yay me.  Crack bunnies went on sale the day after Easter, and of COURSE, I ended up going home with a couple bags.  I sacrificed one to my trainer because I knew, KNEW that if I went home with both, then they both would get eaten, solely by me, growling at Roxy to stay away.

As it was, the entire bag got eaten last night.  In my slightly numb and very glassy-eyed state, I just had to shake my head.  I knew this would happen.  Part of me even wanted it to, when I am being brutally honest with myself.  Numb is kind of nice sometimes.

Still, this morning, I got up early, ate my green shake, headed to my killer yogaish class and rebooted.  I spent zero time in the guilt zone over the binge.

Guilt, I've found, is counter-productive.  When I let guilt take over my decision-making, my decision-making never improves.  Did I miss my mark yesterday?  Yes, I did.  Did it completely derail all my good work?  Of course not!

The point in all of this isn't to never fall or fail or to be perfect every single moment.  What is "perfection" in all this, anyway?  My sense of what is right for me now is different than it was a year ago, or two years ago, and definitely 10 years ago!

When you have moved away from the thought pattern of, "This sucks and it feels like punishment!" to "I am loving myself enough to take good care of myself -eating well, exercising, making rational life decisions!" the falls aren't permanent or a sign of how THINGS WILL NEVER CHANGE AND I WILL ALWAYS BE A COMPLETE FUCK UP, which at one point in my life seemed written in granite and tattooed on my scalp.  The falls simply remind me now that perfection has never been an attainable goal, and when you fall down seven times, you get up eight -and marvel at how much better you are at getting up than you were the first seven times.

Persistence, not power, lets a river wear down a rock.