Did the scale lie to me?

I've been avoiding the scale for a few days. Since it's been difficult for me to exercise, I've been scared to see my weight. It's an old habit of mine: avoidance. If I can't see the weight on the scale, the number doesn't exist. Easy-peasy.

It's something that stems from my teenage years when I had what was called an EDNOA (Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified). I would never look at the scale, always afraid to see the numbers go up, and then when I was in remission, my parents hid every scale in our house so I wouldn't obsess over gaining weight. 

So with me being MIA from the gym for a few days, I put the Avoidance Technique to good use. I still ate as healthy as possible and drank tons of water every day, and walked everywhere I could, but I was afraid of the scale. This morning, knowing that I had 6 days in which to complete my goal, I bit the bullet and stepped on the scale.

What I saw shocked me: I was down 11 pounds! My original goal was to lose 7.6 pounds, and I had lost 11? I stepped off the scale, only to step back on immediately--2 more times. While it would fluxuate a half pound each time, my breath still caught in my throat. Tears pricked my eyes. I was really doing this. It was really happening. I was losing weight successfully, and most importantly, healthily. 

I have a feeling that this game is going to change my life. I thrive on the feeling I get when I know I have had a healthy eating day, and I feel like absolutely dog crap (physically) when I indulge in too many things that are not good for me. I'm sleeping better, looking better, and most importantly, feeling better. I feel like the best version of me.