Weighing myself equals trouble

I heard somewhere that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results.

Well, I was at the chiropractor yesterday and there is a scale there and usually I weigh myself. Then, if I don’t like the number on the scale, I feel bad or guilty and I start to think “What’s the use” and I will either eat to comfort or eat to celebrate (if the number looking back at me is a good number). And then one cookie turns into 30, or a pint of ice cream or a cake, or a dozen bite sized brownies, etc . . .

I know that something is happening to my body since I went wheat-free on August 29th, after all, I am wearing pants that haven’t fit me in years. So why tempt fate?

I resisted the urge to weigh myself and decided that seeing a number wasn’t worth my sanity (and my progress).

Breaking the cycle of insanity starts with not caring what number I see, but how my clothes feel on me.

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