Tug of war

I’m struggling. It’s the Danger Zone – between about 2 and 3pm when I’m at work and my mind drifts inexorably towards food. I need a hook, a hit. Anything just to get me through this afternoon. I start to feel headachy, I can’t concentrate. The addiction kicks in, the base, gnawing pressure of it eating away at my will.

I won’t have it. I have stepped away from my desk to write this, dear reader. To talk to you in order to distract myself from the awful noise of it.

I have been sick for so long it’s so hard to know how not to fall down every day. But I made a promise this morning that things would be okay, just for today. I will keep that promise, and I will tackle tomorrow when it arrives.

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