I am on my third day of "sugar detox." Not as strictly as Dr. DesMaisons' book suggests, as I am still eating fruit. (I am of the belief that any diet or nutrition program that tells you not to eat fruit is bullshit. Fruit is important.) But I am not eating sweets at all, and I have completely and utterly given up "white things" (breads, pastas, rice). I have been off white things for a while but this time I've gone whole hog. That means no pizza unless there is a wheat crust (which we do have here in Austin; yay for liberal hippies), no quesadillas unless they're on wheat tortillas, etc. I can't even have Lean Cuisines anymore, since they have white pasta and noodles in them. But it is working out well. I am hoping to be able to drop some weight and stabilize my moods.
This morning I toasted two whole grain waffles (with flax - I forget what it is, but it's good for you) in the office kitchen. New Boss entered and said, "Heyyy! Waffles! Now you have to cover them with syrup; fill every hole." I practically ran out of there screaming.
Therapy is becoming progressively more difficult. I suppose this is a good thing. I am starting to get to root causes and issues, which is harder than I thought it would be. Yesterday I was talking about how the anniversary of September 11 is looming over me. I recalled the trauma my family faced because my father was in one of the towers at the time of the attack, and we didn't know if he was alive or dead. I talked about how we could smell smoke for days afterward - how it would wake me in the middle of the night, the smell of burning and death. I talked about how afraid we all were for months, even years, to come. How my mother and her colleagues volunteered to serve food to the rescue workers who worked night and day, digging up body parts at Ground Zero.
My father survived that day, and he survived several others things after that, but now he is dead. So the anniversary, which has long lost its power over me - I cried all day on the first 2 anniversaries - has come back with a vengeance. I've decided to use one of my vacation days on that day, just so I can stay home and not have pressure on me to be happy and smiling at work. Therapist was proud of me for making that decision on how to take care of myself. It's progress.