Yesterday was fine food and exercise wise, but emotionally – a bit of a bummer. I’ve been with H for 11 years, married for 7, and we have been going through some heavy sh!t these last few weeks with one thing and another. Job stress for me (i.e. trying to find one), combined with hormones all over the place due to changing birth control, combined with neither of us being the easiest person to live with at times has resulted in some hefty ding-dongs recently, culminating last night in an evening drive during which H angrily slammed a can of coke all over the passenger side dashboard, showering the whole car and nearly taking me off the road. I thought the airbag had gone off for a moment.
Cue a three-hour argument/discussion about life, the universe and everything, during which divorce proceedings were invoked even to the point of who would get the cats.
Finally things calmed down, we made up, and stood out on the balcony watching the sun set whilst smoking some stress-purchased cigarettes (procured at the garage whilst I filled up the car ready to have to drive 4 hours north to my parents’ place if it all went south). We drank coffee and I ate my M&Ms and Cinnamon Grahams (weighed out, as per my daily plan). We made some plans, and some promises, and most importantly we kissed and made up.
For me, stress is a huge trigger (or has been in the past) for eating. I don’t ever want to go through something like last night again, but I’m peculiarly proud of the fact that I didn’t hit the cupboards like an alky hitting the bottle. Little victories, eh?