I had my first really emotional obstacle yesterday:
My best friend, who is an alcoholic, called me yesterday and was convinced that something was happening that was definitely not occurring. He was hallucinating. I thought he had stopped drinking for nearly a month now but apparently he had started again. I talked to his mother and she's pretty convinced that he's not going to make it through this time. We're just waiting for the final, definitive blow.
When this problem first arose a few months ago, I was devastated. So of course to numb this incredible pain I was feeling, I ate. I ate a lot! I gained nearly ten pounds or so just from trying to stuff the feelings down with chips and candy and pasta.
Yesterday...I didn't feel the urge to go and buy junk. Good lord was I craving a cigarette like no other but cooked food (and junk food) were not even appealing to me. One of my coworkers took me out to Juno for dinner last night to keep my mind off of it and I got a big salad without cheese and some roasted beets (rawish, right?) but the cooked items on the menu, things that would normally tempt me when I'm upset like ravioli and grilled seafood, weren't even an option in my mind; I didn't even want to order them. I was a little tempted by the bread basket (as usual) but I managed to resist. My indulgence last night to make myself feel better was a Larabar. Which ultimately didn't really make me feel better because I found the peanut butter cookie flavor revolting. I guess that worked out to prove that food doesn't make bad things go away.
So still trying to be good to myself...even when the world isn't.