Pasha
Expert
When is soon ? Just get back on the wagon, start all over again and do your VERY best. It would be a great pity to develop complications. Good luck.
Hi I love sweet treats too so much so my husband has got a lockable box for his chocolate in the fridge, I don't have any will power at all. Even though I say I'm not going to eat that again I always do and hate myself for it, it's a vicious circle that is so hard to break out of, even though I have diabetes it's pushed to the back of my mind.
I really need to get back on the wagon, I've put a stone on of the 3 stone I lost last year. Hope you get back on your wagon soon.
There is a rehabilitation center......welcome to it ...you are already hereThanks for your well wishes. I send the same good will for you in your efforts. Until there is a junk food rehabilitation center, we must be strong in our fight.
I hope this rehab facility has a Pringles Addiction specialist.There is a rehabilitation center......welcome to it ...you are already here
I am grateful for your thoughts and kind words. The rewiring of my brain is an ongoing work in progress with some hopeful improvements in the very near future.
It’s been more than a month since being crowned a diabetic and my head often feels far too heavy from the weight of it all. The monotony of a low carbohydrate diet with portion control and my forced participation in The Hunger Games has left me constantly wanting to retreat to a life before all of this culinary restriction. This afternoon, while working from home, I could not stave off the panic of collapse from setting in as I explored my kitchen cupboards for remains of the past like an alcoholic in contemplative recovery perusing the liquor cabinet, initially as a measure of my success before very quickly devolving into a dangerous game of just-a-taste.
I came across a seemingly impossible forgotten can of Pringles that was being blocked by a concerned Quaker on a large drum of oatmeal like a Just Say No to Drugs bumper sticker on the lamppost of a dealer’s corner. And like any fiend in desperate need of a score, I wasn’t going to let age old wisdom create an obstacle in my self-destructive path towards the Pringle Guy’s sacred starch offering.
I had purchased what seemed like a crate of cans of my favorite ersatz potato chip snack while they were at a very special price about a year ago in a big box store, which I distinctly remember visiting just to walk through their cavernous aisles as exercise to push through the exhaustion and unfortunately not the irony that most of its food was causing me to feel. Fortunately, for their corporate shareholders and unfortunately for their customers, that retail establishment not so subtly plays both sides of a profitable game by providing their everyday low prices on most of the junk food that sends too many like myself directly across the aisle into the pharmacy where they corner the market on the cheapest diabetic supplies anywhere in the country. And even when the vicious cycle eventually peters out for good, it's reassuring to know they have unbeatable prices on caskets.
That first bite of pringle was the miniscule size an anorexic mouse might nibble off just to appease her rightfully concerned mother, but still guiltily enjoyed by allowing the complexity of flavor to echo far beyond the dissolution of its form. And then I took several gluttonous handfuls, the size equivalent of the poor anorexic mouse, her mother, father, twenty siblings and the entire overpopulated neighborhood of Mouseville, shamefully stuffing myself into a state of nausea, delight and for once in a long time a feeling of being full.
I am going to start over again tomorrow. This is really hard at times.
It’s been more than a month since being crowned a diabetic and my head often feels far too heavy from the weight of it all. The monotony of a low carbohydrate diet with portion control and my forced participation in The Hunger Games has left me constantly wanting to retreat to a life before all of this culinary restriction. This afternoon, while working from home, I could not stave off the panic of collapse from setting in as I explored my kitchen cupboards for remains of the past like an alcoholic in contemplative recovery perusing the liquor cabinet, initially as a measure of my success before very quickly devolving into a dangerous game of just-a-taste.
I came across a seemingly impossible forgotten can of Pringles that was being blocked by a concerned Quaker on a large drum of oatmeal like a Just Say No to Drugs bumper sticker on the lamppost of a dealer’s corner. And like any fiend in desperate need of a score, I wasn’t going to let age old wisdom create an obstacle in my self-destructive path towards the Pringle Guy’s sacred starch offering.
I had purchased what seemed like a crate of cans of my favorite ersatz potato chip snack while they were at a very special price about a year ago in a big box store, which I distinctly remember visiting just to walk through their cavernous aisles as exercise to push through the exhaustion and unfortunately not the irony that most of its food was causing me to feel. Fortunately, for their corporate shareholders and unfortunately for their customers, that retail establishment not so subtly plays both sides of a profitable game by providing their everyday low prices on most of the junk food that sends too many like myself directly across the aisle into the pharmacy where they corner the market on the cheapest diabetic supplies anywhere in the country. And even when the vicious cycle eventually peters out for good, it's reassuring to know they have unbeatable prices on caskets.
That first bite of pringle was the miniscule size an anorexic mouse might nibble off just to appease her rightfully concerned mother, but still guiltily enjoyed by allowing the complexity of flavor to echo far beyond the dissolution of its form. And then I took several gluttonous handfuls, the size equivalent of the poor anorexic mouse, her mother, father, twenty siblings and the entire overpopulated neighborhood of Mouseville, shamefully stuffing myself into a state of nausea, delight and for once in a long time a feeling of being full.
I am going to start over again tomorrow. This is really hard at times.
It’s been more than a month since being crowned a diabetic and my head often feels far too heavy from the weight of it all. The monotony of a low carbohydrate diet with portion control and my forced participation in The Hunger Games has left me constantly wanting to retreat to a life before all of this culinary restriction. This afternoon, while working from home, I could not stave off the panic of collapse from setting in as I explored my kitchen cupboards for remains of the past like an alcoholic in contemplative recovery perusing the liquor cabinet, initially as a measure of my success before very quickly devolving into a dangerous game of just-a-taste.
I came across a seemingly impossible forgotten can of Pringles that was being blocked by a concerned Quaker on a large drum of oatmeal like a Just Say No to Drugs bumper sticker on the lamppost of a dealer’s corner. And like any fiend in desperate need of a score, I wasn’t going to let age old wisdom create an obstacle in my self-destructive path towards the Pringle Guy’s sacred starch offering.
I had purchased what seemed like a crate of cans of my favorite ersatz potato chip snack while they were at a very special price about a year ago in a big box store, which I distinctly remember visiting just to walk through their cavernous aisles as exercise to push through the exhaustion and unfortunately not the irony that most of its food was causing me to feel. Fortunately, for their corporate shareholders and unfortunately for their customers, that retail establishment not so subtly plays both sides of a profitable game by providing their everyday low prices on most of the junk food that sends too many like myself directly across the aisle into the pharmacy where they corner the market on the cheapest diabetic supplies anywhere in the country. And even when the vicious cycle eventually peters out for good, it's reassuring to know they have unbeatable prices on caskets.
That first bite of pringle was the miniscule size an anorexic mouse might nibble off just to appease her rightfully concerned mother, but still guiltily enjoyed by allowing the complexity of flavor to echo far beyond the dissolution of its form. And then I took several gluttonous handfuls, the size equivalent of the poor anorexic mouse, her mother, father, twenty siblings and the entire overpopulated neighborhood of Mouseville, shamefully stuffing myself into a state of nausea, delight and for once in a long time a feeling of being full.
I am going to start over again tomorrow. This is really hard at times.
I am flattered by your generous praise and am working on a creative project which I hope to announce soon. Thanks again.thought your review of yourself was brilliantly written, you ought consider writing a book, might keep your mind off the the Pringles! Which by the way, the manufacturers of these types of foods want us all to keep eating more than one and buying hence why they put such rubbish in them because the taste makes you eat more, same with chocolate and sweets
I am flattered by your generous praise and am working on a creative project which I hope to announce soon. Thanks again.
Hi @Type2Guy. Believe me, we've all been there. Even the most dedicated of low carbers fall off the wagon. We're simply human after all. I personally don't lchf. I don't count macro nutrients or do anything complicated. It's just not how I want to manage my Diabetes. Overall, I eat a balanced, nutritious diet with nothing excluded at all. I modify my portion size to suit my own needs, and eat to my meter. If I want pizza, I'll have it....but I now have a small individual one, or share a few slices of a large one. Having it with a lovely fresh, tasty, big mixed salad, coleslaws, pickles etc helps fill me up and keep the carbs at a sensible level. I build treats into my daily life...I have to or I'd fall off the wagon EVERY day. Once I got my BG under control & lost weight, I had much more tolerance to carbs and slowly introduced previously restricted foods back into my diet. I'm still losing weight & my fasting blood glucose levels are usually in the low 5's. Perhaps you need to consider how to modify your diet so you don't get bored with what you're eating, don't feel deprived, feel eating is a chore rather than something to be enjoyed and your diet doesn't make you miserable. That way, you're less likely to go on a bingefest & then hate yourself for doing so. This disease is with us for life, so you have to find a sustainable way of managing it that takes into consideration your emotional health as well as your physical wellbeing. So, stop beating yourself up, climb back onto that wagon, & don't be so hard on yourself hun. I'm going to tag @Pasha to give you another perspective. He's very experienced, gives first class advice & also understands what it's like to have the occasional slip off the wagon. Good luck.
I now make my own Paleo bread, discovered herbs and spices, ya know what? that packet stuff doesn't taste so good after all.
Me tooLooking forward to it
Hi Type2Guy. I have nothing to add to the amazing suggestions and support given by all the other posters. I just wanted to say how much I enjoyed your original post. It was like reading the first chapter of a thriller/mystery, with Pringles being set up as the baddie of the piece - tempting you...I feel if you're not already a writer then you should beIt’s been more than a month since being crowned a diabetic and my head often feels far too heavy from the weight of it all. The monotony of a low carbohydrate diet with portion control and my forced participation in The Hunger Games has left me constantly wanting to retreat to a life before all of this culinary restriction. This afternoon, while working from home, I could not stave off the panic of collapse from setting in as I explored my kitchen cupboards for remains of the past like an alcoholic in contemplative recovery perusing the liquor cabinet, initially as a measure of my success before very quickly devolving into a dangerous game of just-a-taste.
I came across a seemingly impossible forgotten can of Pringles that was being blocked by a concerned Quaker on a large drum of oatmeal like a Just Say No to Drugs bumper sticker on the lamppost of a dealer’s corner. And like any fiend in desperate need of a score, I wasn’t going to let age old wisdom create an obstacle in my self-destructive path towards the Pringle Guy’s sacred starch offering.
I had purchased what seemed like a crate of cans of my favorite ersatz potato chip snack while they were at a very special price about a year ago in a big box store, which I distinctly remember visiting just to walk through their cavernous aisles as exercise to push through the exhaustion and unfortunately not the irony that most of its food was causing me to feel. Fortunately, for their corporate shareholders and unfortunately for their customers, that retail establishment not so subtly plays both sides of a profitable game by providing their everyday low prices on most of the junk food that sends too many like myself directly across the aisle into the pharmacy where they corner the market on the cheapest diabetic supplies anywhere in the country. And even when the vicious cycle eventually peters out for good, it's reassuring to know they have unbeatable prices on caskets.
That first bite of pringle was the miniscule size an anorexic mouse might nibble off just to appease her rightfully concerned mother, but still guiltily enjoyed by allowing the complexity of flavor to echo far beyond the dissolution of its form. And then I took several gluttonous handfuls, the size equivalent of the poor anorexic mouse, her mother, father, twenty siblings and the entire overpopulated neighborhood of Mouseville, shamefully stuffing myself into a state of nausea, delight and for once in a long time a feeling of being full.
I am going to start over again tomorrow. This is really hard at times.
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