If Anyone Has My Voodoo Doll, Please Stop

This week didn’t come with anything particularly exciting.

No big events. No dramatic highs or lows. Just a normal, routine week—which, if I’m being honest, should make this an easy blog to write… and yet, here we are.

What did happen?

I lost one pound.

Not huge, not flashy—but still progress.

That said, I would like to take a moment to address whoever is currently in possession of the voodoo doll version of me.

First of all—hi.

Second—can you kindly remove the pin from my back? Because it has been killing me all week.

And while you’re at it, if you could also stop whatever it is you’re doing that makes me feel like I want to eat constantly—even while actively running through HALT in my head—that would be great.

Because let me tell you… nothing is more humbling than standing in your kitchen, not physically hungry, mentally listing out “Hungry? No. Angry? No. Lonely? Maybe. Tired? Most Definitely.” and still somehow ending up staring into the fridge like it personally offended you.

This week wasn’t about falling off track—it was more like being mildly harassed by cravings and discomfort while still trying to do the right thing.

And honestly? I handled it.

Not perfectly. Not effortlessly. But I stayed on Program.

I wrote things down.

I stuck to my portions.

I checked in with myself—even when the answers were “I don’t know, but I still want a snack.”

And at the end of it, the scale moved. One pound.

Which, given the week, feels like a quiet but very real win.

Because this is the part of the journey that doesn’t get talked about as much—the weeks where nothing is technically wrong, but everything feels just slightly off.

The weeks where you’re doing the right things, but it takes more effort.

Where your body feels a little dramatic.

Where your brain is like, “We should eat,” and you’re like, “We absolutely should not.”

And you just… manage it.

This week reminded me that progress isn’t always about big motivation or perfect conditions.

Sometimes it’s about pushing through the weird weeks.

The slightly uncomfortable ones.

The ones where you’d really like to file a complaint with your own body.

And still choosing to stay consistent anyway.

Because at the end of the day, I showed up.

Even when it felt off.

Even when I was annoyed.

Even when I was convinced someone out there was messing with me for sport.

I stuck with it.

And I know that’s exactly what Grampy would want.

He wouldn’t care that it was “only” one pound. He wouldn’t care that the week felt a little chaotic behind the scenes. He’d just care that I didn’t quit—that I kept going, even when it wasn’t easy or particularly fun.

So that’s the takeaway this week.

Not every week is going to feel smooth.

Not every week is going to make sense.

But if I keep showing up—no matter what kind of week it is—

I’m still moving forward.

One pound at a time.

This week’s loss: 1 pounds

Total loss so far: 56 pounds