Day two down, and I’m still in the fight. Last night was tough. My mind wouldn’t shut off, and all I could think about was food. Sleep was restless, to say the least. But I keep reminding myself why I’m doing this. This isn’t just about weight loss; it’s about health, and taking control.
Like yesterday, my thoughts keep drifting back to my dad and his battle with diabetes. He fought so hard, and I owe it to him, and to myself, to fight this too. Fasting is hard, no doubt, but diabetes is harder. I saw what it did to him, and I refuse to let it have the same hold on me. That blood test was a wake-up call, a stark reminder that I need to be proactive.
So, even though my stomach is growling, I’m pushing through. This is for my health, for my future, and in memory of my dad’s strength.
Today, if I close my eyes, I see food. I smell food. But I’m fighting. Pure black brewed coffee made the “hanger” (hunger + anger) halt, thankfully. And I’m keeping myself busy, doing dedicated work. I smell the food of the neighbors, and I’m tempted, but I will do this. I’m fighting.
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