This is me in a dressing room yesterday, Saturday, February 3, 2018. I tried
several size 8 pants but they were too big so I tried 6 petites and that's what I ended up with.
So, I'm smaller now than I have been in 30 years. I haven't been this size since before I had children. Reason for celebration and excitement...right? You'd think so, but no.
This last week a profound sadness came over me. As I continue to get smaller I feel like I am mourning a previous life that I can't go back to. In my workplace my friends and coworkers routinely order in all kinds of meals that I no longer eat. They routinely bring in sweets to share that I no longer can indulge in. They routinely ask me if I want anything and I always say thank you but no.
I don't know any other vegans and I feel very isolated most of the time. I feel like I have to keep up my defenses all the time because the temptation is always there to go backwards. I still like the scent of meat even though I don't really want to eat any. The smell of McDonalds drives me crazy. I don't want to eat that stuff because I know how unhealthy it is, but Dam is smells good. It's like crack and I'm the addict. I know I cannot take even one bite because I won't be able to stop even though it's not something I want to put in my body.
I can never go back. I'm too old to start over again. This is my life now. While my husband eats the homemade chili with cheese, sour cream and crackers I eat a pound of salad. Today we went out to lunch. He had a huge fish sandwich that smelled so good. I had a veggie burger that clearly did not taste anything like a meat burger. That's my life from now on.
This last week I was so depressed about that. Sometimes success is bittersweet. I know I'm doing the right thing for myself. I don't want to go back and yet there's something about that past life that I miss.
Is this what maintenance feel like?