My scale has evacuated the building

Morning.

I can’t sleep so I thought I would get an early start on Monday’s entry.

I have always owned a scale. I’ve even had two scales at one point. It became my safety net and I would allow it to  determine how my day would start and how it would end.

All because of a number.

And I didn’t just weigh myself twice a day. Hell no. I was on it atleast a dozen times a day.

Tonight I decided that this stupid white box that sits on my bathroom floor with a tiny little window displaying how many pounds my body weighs has too much control over my life.

My journey is about getting the control back so I’m going to start with this milestone. No scale. This is an immediate change I can make.

I wasn’t prepared to take it outside and smash it with a hammer, which I have done in the past, but I put it in the garage. And I went to bed tonight not weighing myself.

I went into each of my boys rooms, kissed them goodnight as I always do, washed up and came into bed.

I don’t know what to feel about the day. This is a whole new world for me. Depending on what the scale said would dictate how I felt. Was it a good day? A bad day?  My therapist said to stop thinking black and white.

Remind yourself. You are doing the best you can.

I actually feel a sense of relief.

Feels kinda weird. In an amazing way.

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