An excuse for unhealthy eating

As I've gotten older, I have a lot of stomach issues, especially when something is bothering me or when I'm depressed.  I have a prescription for Omeprazole:  I take two every morning before eating.  As long as I'm not depressed or don't consume the wrong things, it works fairly well.  But let me get in a funk and I might as well be taking a lifesaver candy for all the good it does.  If said funk lasts a few days, I can't help but eat less.  So I lose weight.  

I carried extra pounds from the holiday season of 2018 until this fall, finally getting within two pounds of my "fighting weight".  Then came the stomach issues and the pounds magically dropped off.  I like to weigh 152 pounds; that was my goal.  But within a matter of a couple of weeks, unable to make myself eat much, I was 147.  

Not to worry, I've seen a doctor.  

I've gotten enough improved that I can now eat a normal amount of food when there's no acid reflux burning my stomach.  But I was still losing ounces a day.  Even the morning after Thanksgiving, when I had eaten everything in sight and plenty of it, I still showed a slight loss.  I was down to 147 pounds without really even trying.  

Yesterday I vowed to eat so many calories that I couldn't possibly lose weight overnight.  So I topped off a day of eating normally by eating a whole bag of Cheetos.  Not the small bag like people throw in their lunchboxes.  Oh no, a regular 8.5 ounce bag.

One of the reasons I managed to maintain my weight over the last ten or fifteen years is that I swore off chips of all kinds.  At some point last summer, I began to realize I do not like most potato chips, but I found out I do like Ruffles, especially cheese flavor.  Then one week Cheetos were on sale, so I bought a bag only to discover Cheetos were my new favorite food.  Who knew?  I used to make fun of my mom when she constantly snacked on Cheetos,, cheese balls, or the like; although she like the puffed kind and I like the crunchy ones.  Mother often had a can of Planters cheese curls laying on the empty side of her bed, so I assume if she woke up hungry they were her go-to midnight snack.  

So I occasionally bought more Cheetos, trying to be reasonable about my intake.  However, I had opened Pandora's box and there was no going back.  Yes, my friends, Ruffles and Cheetos were the ruination of me until nature decided to help me get back to controlling my intake by giving me a bellyache.

This morning I weighed almost 149.  Yes, the chips did their work in a grand manner.  Not only that, but my stomach is still in decent shape this morning.  

By the way, I don't mind my weight being 147.  I'm only 5 feet, six inches tall now, down from 5 feet, seven inches in my prime.  The thing I didn't like was losing weight every day no matter what I ate.  Losing weight for no reason is not a good thing; it's worrisome, because I was already troubled about other things, and the weight loss, along with the stomach discomfort, was giving me one more reason to fret.  It's amazing what the imagination can conjure up at such times.  

At this point an old saying comes to mind:  If I had known I was going to live this long, I'd have taken better care of myself.

And that's your report from a woman who is now addicted to Cheetos and, due to a good sale, possesses four bags that will need to be given away if she starts gaining weight instead of losing it.

Yours pathetically,
Donna