Day two of the Advocare 24-day challenge is in the books and it was a doozy.
Murphy’s law was in full effect yesterday. Work has been intense for the past few weeks and it all came to a head yesterday for me, resulting in a lot of time spent at my desk with my head in my hands staring in disbelief at my computer screen. It wasn’t great. And that’s all I’ll say about that.
I probably could have handled the work stress if I didn’t also have the stress of a quarterly dermatology check in hanging over my head. Thanks to a melanoma diagnosis in 2012 and a basal cell diagnosis in 2014, I get to visit my derm every three months. Fun! Luckily I love my dermatologist – she’s funny and kind and helps to set me at ease, which is good, because I always manage to work myself into a massive panic before every appointment.
I ended up needing four biopsies. I had identified two spots myself, and the doc found an additional two that she found concerning. She’s almost positive one of the spots is another basal cell that will require treatment, and the other three are atypical moles that they’re checking for melanoma. People. Seriously. Wear sunscreen. SPF is your friend.
So, after three hours at BWH, I left with four bandages, four sets of stitches, four brand new scars. I’ve officially lost count of the number of biopsy scars on my body. And it sucks. I’m really struggling with this. Any biopsy is scary and four at one time really freaked me out and sent me into a tailspin.
And every single cell in my body screamed for emotional eating. When I’m upset, I eat — I binge on things that I know are bad for me, but my brain shuts down and my body convinces itself that the food brings comfort. It’s been a bitter cycle my entire life.
And I didn’t give in last night. I wanted to. I wanted to drown in a bottle of wine and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s. I wanted to order a pizza and eat it alone in my bed while I wallowed in anxiety. But I didn’t do any of those things. I cooked a healthy dinner that fit in with the challenge plan, I drank a glass of water, and I ignored the voice in my head screaming that it wanted potato chips and pity.
It was so. Effing. Hard.
But I did it. And that feels like the best victory I could ask for.