Trigger Me This

I baked Thursday Night. For the first time in a month and the first time since I started getting serious about changing my life.

It was a disaster.

I'm learning my triggers. Candy is one. I'm not one of those people who can have just a few. I need them all. And yours, too. I can't stop. I just cannot stop.

Baking is another huge trigger, which sucks, since I love to bake. A friend's birthday is on Tuesday and he came up for the weekend. My baking for him is a tradition. He wanted coconut cake. I decided on Coconut  Whoopie Pies.

Since I knew this was a potential major trigger, I obsessed about it. I spoke with my WW leader Thursday morning and we talked about some strategies I could use. I thought I could do it. And boy, was I wrong.

I was supposed to brush my teeth before I started. I didn't.

I was supposed to cut up an apple before I started. I didn't.

I was supposed to chew gum while I was working. I didn't. At least not until it was too late.

I guess I should be proud of myself for not eating half the batter. I managed to make 35 cookies. So, of course I had to eat one so I could have an even number.

Then, after mixing up the filling and putting them all together, I was supposed to just put them away. But I was worried. What if they didn't taste good? It was a new recipe. If I waited until tomorrow to let the Birthday boy try them, what if he didn't like them? Then it would be too late to get him cupcakes at Crumbs.

So, I ate one. And it was very good. I put them all away in the fridge, and declared that I was done. Baking done, sampling done, all done.

Then I spent the entire next day thinking about the Whoopie Pies in the fridge. And I spent the entire day thinking about baking something else. Then I got home and ate one right out of the fridge. Then I ate the four left-over ones that were unfilled. Then I ate another one. Then I walked away and tried to watch Fringe without thinking of the Whoopie Pies sitting on the counter, or about the Giant Chocolate Chip Cookies I really wanted to make.

Then I went to bed. And was very relieved when I got up that the boys ate all of the Whoopie Pies. I've spent the day trying not to think about baking something else. I'm trying not to obsess about baking. About cakes and cookies and dough. It's really very hard.

If I ever doubted that certain foods were like a drug to me, I doubt no longer. I don't know if or when I'll ever be able to bake again. I don't know if I'll ever have control of it. I'm thankful that I'm strong enough right now to resist the pull but I'd be happier if I had managed to resist eating as much as I did.

It's going to take a while to accept that there are going to be things that I can't eat anymore. And of course, my brain is running through all the things I've ever made and all the things I've wanted to make and all the things I've wanted to eat and is screaming "NOOOOOOOOOO!"