wagons and ladders

I am continually canonballing off the wagon these days. Each time I hit the chocolatey dirt, sink into the muffinous moss, or swim in the sugary sea, I lay there a little longer. I lounge in the post-binge haze until something alerts me- an unexpected reflection of the double chin, a slightly tighter pair of pants, an alarming number on the scale. I huff and puff and pull myself up, and begin crawling, staggering towards the wagon. But each time it seems a little farther away, and the journey more laborious.

A friend mentioned a book called Made to Crave, and I started to read it... three weeks ago. Until the part where she mentioned finding your "want-to". I probably read a few pages beyond that but I remember thinking "Hmm... I don't have a want to, really. Other than I don't want to literally suffocate to death in my own body." Then I stopped reading.

But now I am wondering if maybe that should be my want-to in and of itself. Maybe I should put pictures of my obese relatives on my fridge/cabinets/wallet to remind me that everything I put in my mouth is a step towards a healthier (happier?) future... or away from it.

My aunt is so heavy now that she can't sleep comfortably and is always fatigued. My uncle is slowly dying from congestive heart failure and insulin-dependent diabetes. My father used to be headed that way too, until bariatric surgery. But there is no easy way out- now he struggles with malnutrition, anemia, kidney stones, and a very restricted diet. And his relationship with food is still very disordered...

I hope this is my want-to. I need it to be my want-to because I can't think of anything else!