Cheeseburger, you're my best friend...

I didn't blog much yesterday because I slept most of the day. Today, though, was hard. We went to praise choir practice a little after 8:00, and I couldn't even make it through the second song without breaking down. I was overly sensitive to everything. I got it together before we actually sang during the service, but whew, it was close. I know I have lots of people supporting me, and I appreciate you all so much. Your little words of encouragement mean more than you know. Hubby and I had a long talk this afternoon after I broke down crying (again). I told him that, other than him, food's been my best friend. When I cheated on my diet, I was keeping my secrets FROM him WITH food. It knows my deepest, darkest secrets. Potatoes and mac and cheese always taste good. Chicken McNuggets always taste good. Food has been reliable, it's consistent. It always makes me happy. It never says, "You're too fat, you don't look right. I don't like you." It accepts me, no matter what. Only, does it really? Was my best friend killing me? Not before all this started, but sometime soon maybe. I never realized what a huge part of my life food was. Today was really hard. Maybe tomorrow will be better.