Confessions of a Dieter

Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been 3 weeks since I documented my last weigh in, and it isn’t pretty. I have been stuck at a particular unsightly weight for over a month now, and I got frustrated. I got irritated. I also cheated. As long as I am confessing, I have broken more than a few of the 10 commandments in the process, and I never thought dieting would cause me to sin. Oh, but is has, dear Father, it has!


It all started on Thursday of this past week. I was 6 ounces from hitting 20 pounds of weight loss. I was so excited to finally push past the plateau, and I was determined to hit that 20 pounds on Friday morning. That was when my gift from mother nature arrived, and alas, my “horror-moans” interfered. So did water retention. And a foul attitude. And I did not hit my goal. I was so doggone mad, Father, that I ate french fries for supper. And a roll with lots of butter. And a big fat piece of chicken with cheese and bacon- all of which are cardinal sins for the diet. I really blew it. And I was truly remorseful over my foodie sins, Lord.


Apparently, though, I am able to hold a grudge against myself even better than I hold onto my weight, because Saturday didn’t go much better.


Oh, it tried to start off better, just like your mercies are new every morning. I packed a lunch for my day at Lincoln, filled with school, family/friends, and even a performance of Godspell. I thought about the choices that would be good for me, as penance for my french fries. I thought of everything! And I did really good till about 3pm.


I suppose there is no need for me to mention that by 3pm, I had been awake for 14 hours straight, because I was so obsessive over my homework I got up at 1:30am on Saturday morning to work on it. So I kind of blame my utter exhaustion, Lord. I do. I wasn’t thinking in my right mind. I was running on empty, and those durn cupcakes were like well planted temptation, promising that the sugar rush would refill my empty tank.


In my defense, Father, I only had one half of the smallest cupcake in that kitchen. Although the other half was removed from my hand by my cousin, who proclaimed, “You don’t need this. Let me help you.” He was an angel from you ,Lord! I just know it! Even if it did require a little bit of brute force to pry the teeny tiny half of heaven that was clutched in my greedy paws. It took every ounce of strength not to lick the wrapper of the cupcake. But then the angel would have laughed in my face.


Then came dinner. I had been up for 16 hours at this point, and it was an all you can eat buffet. Now, for the record, I did make good choices on the salad bar. I only had a small serving of dressing on my salad, 8 pieces of pasta in the pasta salad. But it was the steak and those confounded French fries again, Lord, that did me in. I was like a dog that was savored table scraps for the first time. There was no stopping me. I even had a sliver of bread pudding, since I had already blown it. Forgive me, Father. I sinned against you, my body, and my body of readers. It was delicious, but I know it couldn’t possibly taste as good as weighing less than 200 pounds would feel.


Oh, but the temptations didn’t stop there. It was on the way home that the real storm blew in. I don’t understand how it happened, Lord! You know that my night vision is horrific. I am practically blind after the sun goes down. So how is it that I happened to spot a miniscule sign in the gas station that announced they sold Krispy Kreme donuts? And why was the delivery guy there at that exact moment, placing fresh goods in the display cabinet? That is really not fair, Lord, and if we were keeping score, I would count that as a trap; I am simply a victim of profiling. Seriously. I had then been up for 22 hours, and had not one ounce of self control left in me. My sweet husband, who has had NO problems getting to his goal weight, was just trying to make me happy. So he turned the van around and we went into the den of gasoline and calories.


I know that even in my weakness, Lord, you were watching me, because you had 2 angels inside the store, just by happenstance. They were hanging out at the counter, finishing up their purchase, and I KNEW THEM! I was over 50 miles from home, in a town with 500 people, and I KNEW the girls at the counter. I should have walked back to the van right then and there. But I was a woman on a mission, Lord, and not one sanctioned by you.


Belinda and Kathleen saw us, and I admitted that I saw the Krispy Kreme sign and was going to get one donut. Belinda said, “Oh, but only one, Charlie, because you are doing so well…you really are!”


I PROMISED her that there would only be one donut in my gullet by the end of the evening. And I was determined that would be the case. Until I realized that they had glazed donuts AND the ones filled with icing. Lord, my appetite had already been whet for icing from that half a cupcake, and I literally started to drool internally. So I just had to get 2 donuts. But that was all I was getting. Then I had to get some milk to go with them (because who can eat a donut without milk?) but I got skim. It wasn’t all bad!


As we got into the van, Matt and I should’ve driven away. It would have been the prudent thing to do. That was when I noticed that we only had a 1/4th of a tank of gas left. I was just sure that there wouldn’t be another gas station for miles. At least not one that had fresh Krispy Kremes within its walls. So we sat in the parking lot, filling our gas tank and bellies. And would you believe the fricking fracking icing donut didn’t taste nearly good as I expected! It just didn’t! And I wasn’t satisfied with only one glazed donut. I was already mentally committed to having 2 donuts. So when Matt went in to pay for the gas, I had him get me not one, but 2 more glazed donuts! I snarfed them down really fast so I wouldn’t have to think about breaking my promise to Belinda of only getting one.


When I woke up on Sunday, Lord, I was a broken woman. I was now going to have to lose 3 pounds to get to my 20 pound loss, instead of 6 ounces. So to console myself, I had French fries just one more time that night.


Sweet Jesus, I am back on the straight and narrow today. And for this weekend, I can only express to you how stupid I was to let something as small as a donut cause me such turmoil and make me fall into the depths. This week, I suppose I have a few things I need to do to make up for the wretched way I dieted this weekend.

1. I need to make sure that I mentally keep my brain in check. Exhaustion leads to poor food choices because I just don’t care what I eat if I am sleepy.

2. I need to apologize to Belinda for not keeping my word to her.

3. I need to wear the size 18 jeans when they are fresh out of the dryer so I can feel them squeeze my big butt and remind me of the price for falling into the hole. (of a donut that is) (make that 3 holes)

4. I need to figure out what it is that is keeping me from obtaining the less than 200 mark. I obviously have something internally that is holding me back, and it needs to go.

5. I need to never ever ever take my eyes off the road I am traveling on, lest I see another Krispy Kreme sign that will cause me to fall.


So there is my confession, Father. I humbly ask for your forgiveness, and pray that this week you give me the strength to apply myself and get back to being 6 ounces short. Because I really don’t deserve to hit the magical 20 this week. And, not that you need to be told what to do, but I would appreciate it if you could add an 11th commandment added to the list.


“I do-nut need donuts.”