Dear Balance, I slightly hate you.

True confessions:

I ate several donuts last night and a piece of pizza. Preceded by 2 peanut butter cups, half of a cinema sized snickers, "southwestern" egg rolls, a mini twix, a beer, and the conscious decision to accept the consequences of my very deliberate face plant off the good eating pony. Guess how swollen my eyes are this morning? My eye bags have bags. My wild Sunday of being a total sugar slut comes after a two week paleo-zone clean up attempt. I call it an attempt because I didn't quite nail it. Since Le Cray-Cray came along, I haven't been my typical hard-nosed self in regards to training or eating well. I do miss my structure, but figuring out how the hell to mix it back in with my new life is proving to be a challenge.

It's reminding me that incorporating that structure isn't comparable to flipping a light switch, it's a daily chore. I hate that. A lot. I know the steps and I've done them many, many times before and so difficult about this time around? Well, due to Le Cray-Cray, I became a different person at break-neck speed. I'm still getting to know who this person is and quite frankly, she doesn't have the energy to be such a critical bitch to herself all the time. While this has a mountain of positive implications to my life as a whole, it's proving to be difficult when it comes time for me to say no to bad eating and skipping workouts. I needed that bitch to keep me in line.

The next 16 days are going to be sore. The two year anniversary of anything tragic is a very curious, limbo-esque stage. Not far enough ahead to warrant nonchalance of any kind and not so tender, but still enough to bring tears if thought about too deeply. The sadness right now is not complicated by grief or searing emotional pain, and I feel like I'm stuck in a transition point where happy and sad emotions greet and can exist simultaneously; it's gentle and not demanding. Being in this strange limbo sadness phase is making me realize that the balance I'm seeking between critical bitch and sugar slutstress can't be forced and is going to take more than 14 days to set straight. Just like I work every single day to gently move myself back to an emotional center and fix the holes life so eagerly punched into my core, so it should go on the eating/training front.

And right now, that epiphany is really annoying, because, being an adult sucks when you want to act like a child.