For the past seven years, I've assisted the "Easter Bunny" (aka my mother) put together our baskets. My mom's a bit, shall we say, anal retentive (really, Lisa? hmm, I wonder if that's where you get it from), and we used to count Cadbury and Reeses eggs, making sure that each child got an equal amount.
I was just starting to really actively restrict when Easter rolled around my senior year of high school. I helped Mom, like always, but the next day I quietly distributed the lion's share of my treats into my siblings' baskets. I'm doing so well, I'm losing so much weight, I told myself. One little Cadbury egg, one too many jelly beans and it's over. I'm back to the fat, lazy person I used to be. Except that I never was. I was never fat, and I sure as hell was never lazy. I was never a bad person - but I believed so strongly that every "bad" food that passed my lips made me a crap human being.
Mom and I have come to an understanding: she knows I won't eat as much candy as the rest of my siblings, but she knows I won't completely abstain, either. I will probably bag up most of it and dump it into a big bowl at the apartment. I actually kept back a bunch of gummies for one of my roommates.
Tomorrow ... I don't know what I'll do. Holidays are kind of tricky. However, it's just one day - one "today" in the very long string of "todays" that make up my life. I'm trying to keep the long view. Jim, I've found, is rather good at that - I'll try to learn a thing or two.