Didn't gain, didn't lose. All good when you're eating for a family of three and doing no exercise.

Seriously, I knew I didn't have a handle on my emotional eating and maybe I never will. And I know this was an extraordinary situation (it better bloody be, if it happens again, I'm taking hostages) and that I can't beat myself up for making poor choices. But this was a seriously tough week and it shook me up in unexpected ways.

I found myself contemplating my body as if it were an alien entity. This body could not be mine, it was causing me too much pain! MY body wouldn't do that to me, this must be an alien body! (Seriously, on a scale of 1 to 10, the pain was an 11 and you're talking to someone who has experienced 2nd & 3rd degree burns, I know from pain.)

Not only that, but it was such intimate pain. I felt completely asexual and separate from myself. When my husband stroked my back to soothe me, I was shocked at the gentleness of his touch. Previously, the touch of others had only bought pain.

I even had my usual coping strategies taken away. I couldn't sit and read blogs or watch TV or read. I couldn't go for a relaxing walk. I couldn't snuggle comfortably with my husband. I couldn't even take a long, hot, bubbly bath. The bath had to be a particular temperature and couldn't contain anything that would irritate the wound.

I know this all sounds like hyperbole for an overachieving haemorrhoid, but this is what was going through my head and this is what lead me to eating the way I did. Almost an entire large, deep-pan, seafood pizza, an entire serving of Thai red duck curry, cakes, snacks, chocolate, utter rubbish.

On top of all of that food, I couldn't exercise. Now, I splurge. I let myself have things that most dieters would blanch at. But I do sufficient exercise that it allows me to still lose weight. And I'm totally cognisant of the fact that should I stop exercising, I will not be able to eat the way I do because I will gain weight pretty quickly.

Last week I felt totally out of control and helpless because my coping mechanisms weren't there anymore. I didn't even want to go to WW on Monday, I was still too out of it and too worried about the damage I'd inflicted.

Fortunately, the damage was minimal to my weight loss. I'm slowly healing and I've started gently exercising again.

The thing that has shocked me most is that something so small, so seemingly insignificant, can wreak such havoc on your best laid plans.

And if you get nothing else out of this entry, for the love of all that's holy, GET ENOUGH FIBRE! I cannot emphasise that enough. If you are suffering from the slightest constipation, do something about it. Trust me, you do NOT want this. I would not wish what I went through on my worst enemies.