Monday, November 3

Clean 24 hours

Hi, my name is Terina and I've been gluten-free 24 hours. Only. My four-year never-cheat, clean streak is over, marred by this weekend's binge.

Yup, I fell off the wagon big time. And I did it PURPOSLY! I stood at the hor'douvers bar at the school auction once again looking over the multitude of offerings that were off limits and thought to myself, "That's It." "I'm going to chance the big one and knowing full well what that means, I did it anyway." I ate it. All.

I cognizantly, coherantly, purposfully ate the coconut shrimp, the katan chicken, and the artichoke dip. I swizzled, slucked, slurped my way through the sauce (soy-therefore wheat filled) covering my plate, and I loved every moment of it. Then I went back and did it again.

What I must have looked like, I'll never know. I'm sure it was like a scene from the Animal House movie, the food feast or my worst imagined pie eating contest.

Even when, in the back of my mind, I heard the faint echo, "You are going to hate you in the morning." "This is gonna hurt." "You are kissing off all hope at functionality next week," Still, at the same time, I was doing it.

Unfortunately, I was not met with an immediate punishment. My body doesn't reject immediately, it lets me think about and worry about what I've done. So, when dinner began, I felt guilt and suitable contrite, I cut myself off. I didn't eat the salad (covered with oriental noodles), the egg roll, the fried rice, the broccoli chicken, or any of the other three or four entrees coated in soy sauce and who knows what else. I even forstalled dessert, creamcheese pie and cookies.

I avoided all the blatent no-no foods, as if that would make any difference at that point.

But the damage was already done.

And I am, I will be, I'm suffering. DUH!

In spite of the story at last support meeting of the boy with his finger in the dike and every time I cheat, it's another finger shoved in and I only have so many fingers before the flood of immunodiseases supresses me.

In spite of that...

So. I'm back on. Rededicated, back reinvigorated to the diet. Pain has a way of doing that.

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