Category Archives: Downer Day

Permission

Last night, around 7pm, I realized I hadn’t eaten for 8 hours. Now, 8 hours is nothing, I have gone upwards of 48 hours with nothing but tea and diet coke, but at the 8 hour mark I started to feel hungry.

I knew I could resist it, fight it, not give in to it, and eventually the feeling would pass. I was really tempted to do all of that. I had a weigh-in the next day and if I didn’t eat that evening then by my weigh-in time I would have gone without anything solid in my stomach for a little over 24 hours. Add in some planned dehydration and it would be a great weigh-in!

But then this niggling thought entered my head, telling me normal people would eat something. Not just a small bite of something, but a meal. Normal people eat more frequently than every 8 hours or longer. According to the nutritionist I see, they eat every 3 to 4 hours…something I find ridiculous but whatever, shrug.

So I sat, and I wondered if I should eat, and I really couldn’t figure it out. I would think “yes, I should eat something” and then I would sit there paralyzed by a bombardment of thoughts…

  • what should I eat?
  • what quantity of food should I eat?
  • I ate 8 hours ago, do I really need to eat again so soon?
  • what kind of food prep am I going to have to do?
  • I’m tired, do I really have the energy to cook, maybe I should go to bed instead

I sat, curled up in a ball, staring at the kitchen for almost an hour, not knowing what to do. Even when I would decide I was going to eat I just kept sitting there, scared. I felt like I needed someone to tell me it was ok to eat, but who is going to tell me that? The only one I live with is the cat, he certainly isn’t going to tell me anything. I have no one I can reach out to about this, and even if I did, what would I say? “Oh hey, can you please give me permission to eat because I can’t give it to myself” They’d think I was a lunatic.

Eventually I went in to the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror, trying to tell myself it was ok to eat. When I wasn’t able to do that I tried telling myself why I should eat, that didn’t work either. I don’t have any catch-phrases to tell myself, little inspirational quotes to get me believing I should eat. Hell, I couldn’t even come up with a plausible lie to convince myself to eat.

I ended up telling myself “you need to eat because…well, just because” and left it at that. I made a deal with myself, I could listen to music and dance while cooking, as long as I cooked and ate something. I couldn’t dive right in to it so I cleaned for a little bit and after a while started prepping my veggies.

I made roasted sweet potato and beets. I keep trying to roast root vegetables and they never turn out as good as they should, sigh. These turned out edible, but not amazing. I paired them with two little sausages so I would have some protein in there. I’m supposed to eat something from all four food groups every time I ate but I can’t quite seem to manage that yet.

That sweet potato had been sitting on my counter for 2 weeks! I bought it with the intention of eating it but couldn’t bring myself to cook and eat it. Too dangerous. Last time I tried eating one it sat on my counter for so long it sprouted these long stalks and I planted the thing outside to see if I could grow my own sweet potato…fyi, it worked, but only kinda. I had to plant it in a pot and one cutting resulted in 5 sweet potatoes but the pot was too small and the potatoes were tiny. Ah well. I really wanted to not have to do all that again with this one so I’m kinda happy I managed to eat it, even if it didn’t turn out as tasty as I wanted…I should’ve steamed it, it always tastes good done that way.

After I ate that I didn’t eat anything else for the rest of the day. I’m super pissed I ate it because I was up at weigh-in today, I’m sure if I had fasted I wouldn’t have been! Arg. So annoying.

I’m told that eating a “healthy amount on a regular basis” will not have me gaining huge amounts of weight and getting fat but one meal put me up over a pound! It’s hard to believe the counselors when the results of eating are easily seen in the number on the scale. If it is a choice between believing what people tell me or believing the scale I gotta say I lean heavily towards believing the scale, how can I not when it gives me concrete truth?

beauty

New Bones

Last week I noticed that the rib bones on the top part of my chest (above my breasts) are more visible. I don’t know when exactly that happened, it isn’t an area I focus on a lot, and I never thought I was fat there before but now that I can clearly see the bones there I wonder how I didn’t notice I had extra fat there.

Was I oblivious?

I think it is more that my collarbones are fairly prominent and I’m more concerned about the extra fat on my abdominal area and thighs. Gotta prioritize ya know?

So yeah…I’ve been losing more weight, yay! and gained new bones, yay! and I have massive amounts of fear that I will screw this up and lose them, boo!

Lose them…like they will fall out of my body or something *rolls eyes* Losing them would be having them once again hidden under dreaded fat. But seriously, why couldn’t the fat have come off other areas first? sigh.

For days after I noticed the new bones I was happy, I wished I had someone to share this new development with but not like there is anybody to tell. So I stayed quiet about it and hugged the news to myself, using it to boost my mood when I started to get a bit down. I also used it as motivation for restricting even more and helping to bolster my will power when tempted to eat.

Pretty fucked up huh?

I didn’t think it was all that noticeable to other people, I generally wear not high neck tops but not low ones either, so the area is covered up for the most part but something odd happened. I went to work and three different managers took time to sit down with me, give me some serious eye contact, and ask if I was ok.

Strange huh?

There is one person who knows a bit of what I go through, she doesn’t understand and keeps telling me to “just eat already!” but someone who knows a little bit is better then not having anybody, I guess…I’m not really sure…but in theory it is better. So yeah, she is a friend at work and I got paranoid that she ratted me out to management but I asked her about it and she swears she didn’t. She thinks they sat me down to talk because my initial weight loss was a “wow, how awesome” kind of thing but has gone too far and is now a “she’s getting too skinny” kind of thing. I don’t believe her, she is definitely exaggerating because I am nowhere near skinny enough to look like someone who anyone should worry about. I still have too much fat on me in too many places. But the timing sure was odd.

My initial happiness about the new chest bones has faded. I’m still happy about them, and I look at them in the mirror every day to make sure they aren’t getting hidden under fat again, but life gets in the way and other things have over ridden the happy emotions I got after first noticing the bones.

A friend died, and I’m not handling it well. I’m binge eating like crazy, which is making me more paranoid about losing the bones, which drives me to take more diet pills and laxatives, which gives me abdominal pain, which leads me to not eat because of the pain, which leads to me feeling too many emotions and stuffing my face to squash the emotions, which starts the cycle up all over again.

It sucks.

I was watching an old tv show on YouTube, it is about teens who go to a ranch for therapy instead of detention. It is from the late 80s or early 90s I think. I’ve been binge watching it and there was an episode where a girl has an eating disorder and also is super athletic and she had a heart attack because of an electrolyte imbalance and being near starved to death…though the actress they cast doesn’t look at all anorexic…but since you can’t always tell from looking at a person maybe that is why they cast her…ok not the point…

It got me wondering thought, about health side effects from eating disorders. I always think that the negative health stuff only happens to anorexics who are super under weight. I’m not gonna have electrolyte issues, or heart attacks, or whatever else might happen because there is still too much fat on me. I haven’t reached that level of danger. But maybe that is wrong? I dunno. I know I get chest pains, and sometimes shortness of breath from activities that shouldn’t cause me to be short of breath, but that is a far cry from actual heart issues.

I should probably ask my case worker at our next meeting but I think it is gonna be bad enough having to admit I started using my pills again. I can’t see a conversation that organically grows from that admission to “can I have heart issues even though I’m still so fat?”. It was bad enough the other week when I hadda talk to her about my self-harm action. *rolls eyes*

Something I don’t get about her, she hasn’t yelled at me yet. I keep waiting for her to get exasperated, or mad, or just plain yell or order me to do or not do something, but she always talks to me in a calm, patient, voice. Its weird.

This post is kinda all over the place. But so is my brain right now so I guess the post is a good reflection of the inside of my head.

I was supposed to work today but I called in sick. I had abdominal pains so it was a legit reason for calling, but during the day I realized I was acting odd…sorta numb, sad, depressed. I wanted to eat everything and anything but I wasn’t hungry, in fact the abdominal pain I had made eating rather unpleasant. I think it is a reaction to finding out about my friend dying…I was told yesterday and lemme tell ya, after I was told, the rest of my day did not go well. I was all over the place emotionally, mostly mad, but with burst of overwhelming sadness thrown in there for good measure. I just couldn’t face people today.

I’m so mad. Mad that he is dead. Mad that I’m going to have to deal with people at work talking about it for the next week. Mad I didn’t get to say goodbye. Mad that I let myself get attached.

Just. Mad.

That anger is driving pretty much everything I am doing right now. It drove me to eat two desserts today that I definitely didn’t need, or even want. It is currently driving me to not eat anything more until tomorrow as punishment for eating the desserts. It is why I keep punching the wall. Why I took my diet pills today, I wanted the stomach pain they would give me.

I feel like I deserve the pain. My inability to control my eating today means I earned pain, and punishment. I feel like I am being torn apart inside and it makes me want to scream that no one who sees me can tell. Is it because people don’t really look at people any longer or because I am that good at hiding what is really going on inside me. Does it matter which reason it is? Not really. The result is the same.

I hurt. I don’t mean the pain from the pills. I mean me, my heart, it hurts. My body hurts from how I treat it, my heart hurts because I was stupid enough to let it get attached to some people and one of them is now dead.

Death. It is so fucking final. I hate that I’ll never hear his voice anymore. I hate that no one will ever call me the nickname he called me. I hate that we’ll never joke around, and I’ll never read anymore stories that he wrote, I hate that we’ll never talk movies or books or stuff happening in the world. I hate that he is gone, and I especially hate that I am so fucking selfish that I keep thinking that his being gone means I am even more alone.

alone

 

 

F*ck Cancer

Fuck cancer.

I have a friend who one day was fine and the next day he was a little bit sick. He went to the doctor and in the blink of an eye he was diagnosed with terminal cancer.

Fuck.

Not that any one terminal cancer is better than the other but his is particularly aggressive, and painful, and it took him from being a vibrant, active, loving life person, to someone who is in so much pain he is permanently dopey from all the morphine being pumped in to his body. He can barely talk, hell, he is almost never awake. He can’t tell who is around him. He is not himself anymore.

The cancer has taken him from us before it has killed him.

I want to fight, I want to scream, I want to hit things, I want to do something, anything, that shows my grief, and fear, and rage, to the world. As if the world seeing how upset I am would make a difference to what he is going through.

I want it to be over for him because this is not how he wants to go. Not how he deserves to go. He deserves a peaceful, dignified death. What he is getting is painful, and bloody, and brutal, and is tormenting not only himself but those who love him. He lost his wife years ago and every day since then misses her. He still loves her with everything he has, he still talks about her as being the love of his life, he still talks about how much he misses her…or he did before the pain and the morphine took away his ability to talk. He wants to be with her again and even though I am not religious I wish for him, with all my being, that there is something after death, that he will get not just escape from the pain when he dies but the warm comforting love of his wife. I want her to be waiting for him. I want him to find a happy eternity. He deserves that.

He doesn’t deserve the horrible way his eternity is coming to him.

I knew he was sick but today I found out just how sick and I am having trouble coping. I had to stop at the store on the way home and before I knew it I was wandering the bakery aisles because hey, nothing makes grief go away better than diving in to a cake all on your own, right?

I ended up skipping the cakes, and the donuts, and the cheesecakes, and all kinds of things. I knew I wanted something but I wasn’t exactly sure what and I could only afford to buy one thing so it had to be the perfectly right thing to binge on. Feeling inspired I headed to the ice cream aisle. I could envision myself sitting in my living room, in my sweats, eating all the ice cream directly from the container. I slowly wandered the ice cream aisle wondering which flavour to take when I saw chocolate ice cream bars (think fudgesicle just a different brand) that I have had before. They are a “healthy option” ice cream bar type treat that I used last summer as a way to have ice cream without screwing up my food intake for the day.

I was so torn. I really wanted cake but I knew that not only would that screw up my weigh-in this week it would leave me feeling guilty, sick, overly full, depressed, worse about myself…all kinds of negative things, aaaaaaaand…it wouldn’t make my friend better. It wouldn’t make this situation with him better, or easier to manage, or somehow more bearable. It wouldn’t make my grief easier to cope with. It wouldn’t make the pain in my heart easier to deal with. It wouldn’t make the feeling that his death will be the one to break me, do irreparable damage to my psyche, go away. If anything, having a binge would make all those feelings even stronger because they would be backed by shame, and guilt, and all kinds of other binge related emotions.

This whole situation sucks.

In the end I bought the “healthier option” ice cream bars.

On the way home I thought I might go for a run but by the time I got home I was exhausted and didn’t want to. I didn’t even want the ice cream bars, shrug. I showered, ate a half cup of oatmeal (it is a safe food and I knew I was way below my food intake for the day so figured I should have something) and well, then I ended up eating part of a chocolate bar that I had in the fridge. I thought I would eat the whole thing but nope, just some of it. It is now back in the fridge. My appetite is gone…not that it is often there…but all I am right now is a ball of sadness.

It makes me tired, and not wanting to do anything, and I vaguely wonder if this will be the beginning of an extreme restricting cycle because my body is so busy being sad it can’t do anything else…

My coping skills for strong emotions are to dive deeper in to my eating disorder behaviours but that isn’t the best choice for me so I am kind of trying to not engage in them but I don’t have any other coping skills to help me with this so I am left floundering, not knowing what to do.

Fuck you cancer. You suck.

grief

Balance

I am not a religious person but I do tend to believe that there is something out there keeping things balanced. Nobody ends up with only good things in their life and nobody ends up with only bad things. Sure, sometimes it is perspective, to me someone’s life may look all bad but to the person in it they probably find joy in something I don’t see and the opposite is true. How many of us look at celebrities and think they lead charmed, perfect, lives? But when you dig a little deeper you find out that they’ve had to deal with the deaths of those closest to them, or they never got to say a final goodbye to someone, or they can’t seem to find and stay in a happy relationship to save their life.

It is all about balance.

In my own, small and inconsequential life, I see the balance that gets meted out and I gotta say, it sure can suck.

I act. No, I am not hugely famous, or even a little bit famous, but I want to be. Not the point of this post though so let’s move on from that. The reason I am telling you this is because I got cast in a commercial two weeks ago and holy crap was I over the moon about it. I mean, yeah, I had anxiety and freaked out about not eating anything until after the shoot so I looked my best, but right now I’m not caring about that side of things. I am caring that I got booked in to a commercial, this is great for my resume and bank account, I managed to do this without an agent (practically impossible) and now maybe I would have a better chance of getting a new agent because I could show how even when on my own I am able to book gigs.

On what seems an unrelated topic, last Tuesday I helped a friend out with some tech stuff at her place. She is a baker and as a thanks for my help she baked some focaccia bread with olives, and herbs from her garden, in it. I knew before I went over she was doing this so I ate a banana in the morning and nothing else. I wasn’t sure how to track home made bread so I needed to make sure I didn’t go over my daily allotment of food by eating some of this bread. I was booked in to film the commercial Friday and had to be careful in those final countdown days to do nothing that might mess with filming day.

After I fix her tech we sit down with cups of tea and reasonably sized slices of her bread. It was freakin amazing! I’ve never tasted bread so good before and I am a bread-aholic so trust me when I say I have eaten a lot of bread.

As I am getting ready to leave she says she is sending some of the bread home with me. She ends up sending the remaining loaf with me! An entire loaf of bread, minus the two small slices we ate, coming home with me…not a good situation to say the least.

I swear to myself I am going to freeze the bread, if not all of it then at least most of it but what do I do? I end up eating some of it while still driving back to my place. Then I proceed to cancel my evening plans, hold the bread like it is some over sized donut, and eat. And eat. And eat. Until it is almost all gone. I put a small chunk back in the ziploc and sit there, overly full on homemade bread, wondering what the fuck I have just done. I drink some tea. I try to not focus on the fact that I just filled my body with more carbs in one sitting than it usually gets in a week and I go back and forth between trying to justify my actions and berating myself. Oh, and then I finished the loaf of bread.

A bit later I check my email and what do I see but an email from the producer saying my part of the commercial has been cut because it was deemed to dangerous to film. They said I was great, loved my audition, really wanted to work with me, and they’d keep me in mind for future projects.

Who the fuck cares about future projects when I want this project?!

And that my friends, is how the universe brings balance to my life. I got a part in a project all on my own, instead of staying the course so I’d be optimal for filming day I break down and eat a fuck-ton of bread, and that same day the job is taken away from me.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to punch something. I wanted to escape my life.

Instead I went through the rest of my evening, I watched some tv, read a book, had a shower where I stood for ages letting the water pour over me and acknowledged I could feel the depression sweeping over me like a wave, pulling me down. I went to bed and realized I was now feeling nothing. Not tired. Not awake. Not caring.

The next day I got up and did everything by rote. Got ready for work, worked for 8 hours, came home, went to bed, all as if I hadn’t gotten devastating news that made me want to hibernate. I felt nothing. Cared about nothing. Appetite was gone, all I wanted to do was shut out the world.

I had brought this on myself. I had screwed this up. This was my fault and I have to deal with that and deal with paying the consequences for screwing up.

Balance.

It will be forced on me by the universe whether I want it or not, it is up to me to deal with it, and try to do better.

Since then I took some pills to get the bread out of me faster. Have restricted my food to make up for the binge. Went to my sports practice even though I didn’t want to. Went to a stupid art therapy class this morning even though I really didn’t want to. Done everything I was supposed to do. Not in the hopes of getting that job back, it is gone and I have to accept that, but in the hopes of balancing things out enough I get a shot at another gig sooner rather than later. Or an agent – that would be even better.

self hate

etheral

All The Emotions

For a while I was feeling alllllll the emotions, well, the negative unhappy ones, and then I binged on fresh from the oven cookies and now I feel nothing.

I am numb.

I am exhausted.

I am pretty sure under the numbness the binge brought on I am still pissed off and sad though…

My car got broken in to and some stuff stolen. My window is smashed into a million small pieces of glass, my iPod, multiple pairs of sunglasses (cause I’m that weirdo with multiple pairs) and my Kit Kat Crunchy bar are all gone.

Who steals that combination of stuff??

And whats weirder, who steals that combination of stuff but leaves the gps system, the stereo, the insurance that has so much personal info on it ID theft would be crazy easy to accomplish?

Idiots. Or children. Or both.

My car got broken in to and my stuff stolen by idiots who may or may not be children.

I hate people.

I thought I was handling everything ok. I reported to the RCMP. I called my insurance people. I acknowledged there is nothing more I can do today because all the shops were closed when this happened so I cleaned up the mess, emptied the car of everything else, taped up the window with a garbage bag, parked the car so the broken side is right up against the wall of a building, left all the little compartments inside open so anyone who looks in can see there is nothing in the car, put the club on my steering wheel, and am forced to leave it overnight and hope nothing else happens to it.

Tomorrow I will do all the calling to the shops to find one that can fix the damage and provide me with a courtesy car. Tomorrow I can take steps to fix this.

Tonight all I can do is sit, and feel alllll the emotions, and jump between unmanageable anger and tears, until I binged, and now I feel nothing except depressed.

I’m emotionally attached to that iPod, it was a graduation gift, and it is super old so not like anybody else will be able to use it…unless they kept one computer running with old operating software strictly so they could keep using that one old iPod…which I highly doubt.

Not like I can afford to replace the iPod either, so now I am music-less, not really a state I find comfort in. I use music to distract me from my thoughts all the time. When I exercise, when I’m walking, when I’m doing errands, driving, cleaning, random times I take public transit…I am never out of my place without that iPod…and now it is gone.

I want it back.

Obviously my wanting it back won’t get it back, but it doesn’t change that I want it. The best I can do is keep an eye out for someone trying to sell it on Craigslist, so my odds of finding it are slim to none.

I thought I was doing kind of ok when it came to handling things lately but this sent me over the edge in to cookie land. It would have been much worse if I could drive my vehicle and get to the store because all I really wanted was chocolate cake *rolls eyes* The cookies were a compromise. Gotta say, they did the trick.

not ok

Healthy Fats?

Fair warning, I am in a pisser of a mood and this will probably end up being a ranting type of post…

This past week I increased my exercise, I was super on point with my food, I did everything “right” and what happened?

I gained 1.8 freakin pounds!!

I stupidly thought I looked ok in the mirror this morning before I headed to weigh-in. I thought maybe I looked a bit smaller, maybe all that work did something, maybe all those times I said no to all the binge foods counted for something.

It counted for nothing.

It got me nowhere but fatter…the one absolute for sure thing I do not want.

Why do I even try? Why do I force myself to skip a binge that I so badly need, and feel crazy in the process because I have no other way to deal with things but to binge so then I am trapped in my head with racing thoughts that won’t leave me alone when skipping a binge obviously has no effect on my weight loss efforts. In fact! Maybe I would have had a lower weight if I had binged because then I would have been taking my pills to rev metabolism and maybe some laxatives and I would have kicked up the working out even more so I would have burned off or expelled all the food I binged on and then some. But nooooooo, instead I stupidly don’t binge, and I don’t take my pills, and I don’t take any laxatives, and I eat as close to “normal” as I am able and what the fuck happens?

I get FATTER!!!!

I had a one-on-one with my case manager Wednesday and we agreed I would meet with the dietitian and start taking baby steps at increasing the time range I eat in and possibly the foods, either in quantity or variety, I am not sure which…probably both if they have things their way. I thought, at the time of the meeting, that it was scary but ok, a step I should take. But how can I increase my food in quantity and/or variety when the food I am already eating is making me fatter? If I add anything else to what I am eating it’ll probably go right to the fat that is built up over my stomach area and just have me expanding even more and omg even just writing that has me wanting to cry, or punch something.

I prefer the anger because I can use it to drive me in to better behaviour. If I am sad I just want to sit and eat. Or sit and focus on how much I am not eating. If I am mad I want to run, or punch something, I want to use the anger as fuel and burn it and it helps me be more active, even on days when I have no energy and am dizzy.

Anger is a more productive emotion for me.

I had practice tonight, with my sports team, so I did get to burn off some of the anger…believe it or not this is me calmed down…

An additional problem is that my Weight Watchers leader wants to see my food journal next week. It is my fault. I was so upset about having gained weight this week, and the fact that I can’t seem to break through this plateau that I talked to her after the meeting today. I thought she’d give me some advice and she did, but it is lunacy. Complete lunacy!

She says eat more protein and add healthy fats to my meal plan. She says I’m probably not getting enough healthy fats. She wants me to cook my food in oil for fucks sake! Oil! Who does that?? Fat people do that! Something I am obviously destined to be forever if this keeps up.

Is there even such a thing as a “healthy fat”? Fat is bad. Duh. So how can there be a healthy kind? I know I have heard people say avocados are healthy fat but I figure that is just people finding a way to justify eating something so high in calories and fat that they really like. Next thing you know people will be saying mayonnaise is a healthy fat, and bacon, and donuts!

I’m trying to get rid of my excess fat, how can I eat more fat, and add that to my body, when I am trying to get rid of the fat that is stubbornly clinging to me?

I hate this. I absolutely fucking hate this. I should have never entered in to a treatment program. I should have never joined Weight Watchers. I should have stuck with restricting my calories. I am sure I would have gotten off this binge eating kick and gotten good at restricting again if I had just kept at it but nope, not me, I had to go and ask for help when obviously all these people want to do is sabotage me and keep me fat.

Eat “healthy fats” sure, *rolls eyes* I’ll get riiiiight on that…said no one ever.

ribs 2

noomi

I want a bad ass attitude like hers, sigh. 

See her cheekbones? I had, very briefly, cheekbones. Now they are hidden under an extra 1.8 pounds that I apparently just couldn’t keep off my body.

And Again

Last night I stopped at the grocery store after work. A dangerous time for me. Its like buying at night time somehow brings out the binge monster in me. I can 100% say if I didn’t live alone I’d be a secret eater. sigh.

So yeah, was in the store, bought some normal stuff but also bought donuts and ice cream.

Fuck.

Then I get home, turn the kettle on to make tea and whatdoyaknow, the ice cream magically got opened. Go figure.

I knew, 100% knew, if I sat down with that tub of ice cream I would eat the entire thing. I could even see me, sitting on my living room chair, taking bites of donuts between spoonfuls of ice cream.

The vision of me doing that made me disgusted with myself while also making me want it even more.

So I made a new rule, I can only eat the ice cream while standing up in the kitchen. I wanted to eat the ice cream way faster than I was but it is cold (obviously) and I have to eat things like that sorta slow cause my mouth freezes super easy and makes it hard to eat. Yeah I know I am weird.

I bought chocolate and peanut butter swirl. Weirdly enough the actual chocolate ice cream is mediocre but the swirls of peanut butter and the mini pb chocolate cups that are in the ice cream are amazing so at one point I was mostly digging to find those. I think I could dump that whole thing out, dig out the peanut butter swirls and the chocolate cups, just eat those, and be a happy camper.

Wonder how many calories I would save doing that…

Not the point!

The point is that even though I would only allow myself to eat it while standing up I still managed to eat a lot of it. And when I say a lot I mean A LOT!

Then of course there were the donuts…I only had two but two, on top of the ice cream is bad enough.

If you are wondering why I only had two it is because that is all I bought. I knew I would eat however many I bought and even while I was in the store picking them out of the display case part of me was fighting the upcoming binge.

I didn’t want to binge.

I wanted to binge more than anything.

Obviously the side that wanted to binge won, as it always seems to do (eventually). But I guess if I couldn’t stop the binge at least I could stop it from being even bigger…does that make any sense?

Its like when you have a cut, you can’t make your body clot any faster so you can’t actually stop yourself from bleeding, but you can put a bandaid on the cut and help it be not so bad.

Afterwards I did not feel good. I went and showered and ended up crying in the shower, the only place I will cry since tears are hidden by water. Ending up sitting on the floor of my shower, being pummeled by water, crying, after eating a crap tonne of calories, was not how I envisioned ending my night.

I’d had such a good day up until then. Eaten healthy foods in quantities I was ok with. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what brought on this binge. It just sorta happened.

It is one thing to binge because something horrible happened, at least then you know why you are doing it. But this, this was just, I dunno…because?

“Because” is not a good enough reason but it is all I have right now.

I am so ashamed. So mad at myself. So depressed I once again engaged in this behaviour.

Mostly I am just ashamed.

ashamed