Tag Archives: binge

The Brink of Tears

I’m fairly certain that eating two eggs (scrambled) on a hoagie bun is not an activity that is supposed to make a person almost cry.

And yet…

I feel like it has been almost an entire week of failure. I had my massive binge last Sunday, then days of physical recovery from that, then I ate half a pack of cookies a different day, then I ate some cookies and ice cream last night, then today I ate food after coming home from work.

In my world these are all massive failures, and having them all happen in one week, one right after another, is messing with my head.

I’ve got to get a handle on things over here or I’m going to end up back in the land of binges multiple times a week and I can’t handle that. I just…I just can’t.

Normally I don’t eat when I get home from work, when I work an evening shift I don’t get home until around ten at night. Once I am home I shower, do random things, make some tea, and by the time I might even be slightly thinking of food I’ve decided it is too late and I’m not going to bother. Doesn’t matter if I feel hungry or not, I don’t eat. I used to, and I found that was one of my most likely times to binge, so I cut that shit out. My body got used to the not eating after work thing and I stopped feeling hungry when I got home, something I count as a win!

But this past week I have really fucked things up. All those random extra high calorie foods has got my body thinking it wants more food and it has the nerve to send me hunger signals. Signals I am scared I might not be able to resist.

You might be thinking whats the big deal, if you feel hungry than eat. But I’m scared that I will eat things like ice cream, or other high calorie disastrous foods that I don’t let myself eat and that whatever I do eat I will eat in large quantities because heaven forbid I know and follow things like proper portion sizes.

Those, fyi, are totally valid fears.

So tonight I was in my post-work shower and couldn’t figure out what I was feeling. I wasn’t sure if I was feeling hungry or if I was feeling like I wanted to eat but for reasons other than hunger. Maybe I thought I wanted to eat but I was actually just bored, or thirsty, or upset about something…I should be careful because no point in eating if I am not actually hungry but being tricked into feeling hunger, right?

I knew that my brain kept thinking about ice cream so I promised myself that if I was going to eat it would be an egg, maybe an egg on toast (which is how I usually eat an egg), but at least the egg. It has protein. It is healthy. I am allowed one a day and I haven’t had an egg in a while. Plus, if I was legit hungry than an egg is an ok option for taking care of that hunger. If I am not actually hungry well, an egg won’t cause too much damage, least not as much as say, ice cream.

I ended up scrambling two eggs and putting them on a toasted hoagie bun. I don’t know what came over me. All those carbs. TWO eggs in one day. Ugh. Broke sooooo many rules with that meal, and yet, I ate it.

After I ate it and there was no turning back from what I did I sat there, watching a movie but hardly paying any attention to it, and I wanted to cry. I kept thinking about how last week I would never have even considered eating something once I was home from work, even if I had felt hungry I wouldn’t have eaten something, and today I caved because I thought I might be hungry. And not only did I cave I ate something that isn’t a safe meal (though I suppose it is a variation on one) and I ate a way larger portion than normal. This is on top of eating dinner at work aaaaaaaaand some oatmeal before going to work.

That is three freakin meals in one day. THREE!

Now do you see why I wanted to cry?

I feel like a failure. I have let myself down. I am so depressed and I don’t see the point anymore.

I look in the mirror and all I see is a fat, disgusting, woman. I have rolls of fat. My stomach sticks out so far it is heinous. Every part of me is swollen, and pudgy, and gross. I swear it wasn’t this bad last week. That binge started me on a free for all that has resulted in me looking noticeably fatter already. How is that possible? Why does it take so much hard work, so much dedication, so much sacrifice, to lose even one pound, but I can gain so much of that lost weight back in one stupid week.

The scale, urg, the scale. I didn’t step on it today but I stepped on it yesterday and it showed I was the same, but it has to be lying because I can see what I look like and I am definitely noticeably fatter. ­čśŽ

So I sat there, post egg on a hoagie bun, realizing that I have just pushed myself farther away from my goal by caving and eating. ┬áRealizing that I was already noticeably fatter when I went to work today and now that I came home and ate some more food I am going to be even fatter tomorrow. Realizing that tomorrow I will step on the scale and will hate myself. Realizing that I am a failure. Realizing that I had gone so long without a binge, then I had one last Sunday and I am still dealing with the fallout from that binge. Realizing that what is the point of recovery when I’m still binge eating after all this time. Realizing that recovery may not be for everybody. Realizing I am freakin exhausted and I wish it was like it was before I realized I had a problem because I may have been engaging in just as many (or even more) bad for me behaviours but at least I was oblivious to just how much I was fucking up and could pretend what I did was normal.

This sucks. And I still want to cry. But I don’t do stuff like that so instead I’ll go try to sleep, at least when I am unconscious I am not aware of how much I hate myself.

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Mini Revelation

I’m laying in bed reading a book about eating disorders, it is called Eating In The Light Of The Moon and is by Anita Johnston. It’s pretty good, full of metaphors and stories and not overly preachy about how to get better an stuff. 

I just read a chapter about dreams and what they can tell us. The author talks about a dream one of her clients had and how it provided a break through as to why she engaged in a binge-purge cycle. 

The dream helped her realise that she would binge (and then purge) after her sister would criticise and put her down, or she perceived she did. 

I won’t go into all the details of the dream and the stuff the author wrote about it, but it made me have a tiny possible revelation. 

I had my sport team training this evening, we have a competition coming up so the practice was kinda brutal, which is fine, I’m not complaining, just explaining. 

We have some shitty air quality right now due to forest fires so myself, and some others were having trouble breathing. When we tried bringing it up to the coach she said to breathe deeper, basically to suck it up, deal with it, and keep going. I was really upset about (1) her lack of caring about the people she coaches , and (2) how much trouble I was having during practice – physically I mean. 

Normally I can find the strength to keep going, to give it my all, regardless of if I have been eating or not. But lately I’ve been having a harder time of it and tonight it was really bad. I think it was worse today because of the air quality, at least, that sure didn’t help!

So I left practice upset at my own physical weakness and at my coach for her not caring. 

I don’t know why her comment bothered me so much, she has always been mean, never pretended that she cares about us as people, we are just a means to an end to her. Which again, is fine, I’m not complaining. That is how she is so I just have to learn to deal with that. 

But I think that is the problem, I don’t deal with that very well, and when I got home I not only ate but I ate dinner (which was sorta planned so kind of ok) and then I ate two cookies and then I ate an unknown amount of ice cream right from the tub!

It wasn’t a full on binge, I didn’t eat till I felt sick, well, I felt a little sick but I think that was from all the sugar, it was nothing like my binge from last sunday. I wasn’t even sure why I was eating those foods (the cookies and ice cream), I didn’t really want them, wasn’t craving them, didn’t feel like I needed some crazy binge, didn’t even use the food as a distraction from hurting myself. I just kinda grabbed them and ate for a while, then put the ice cream back  in the freezer. 

I think, and I could be very wrong, but I think maybe I ate the ice cream (and cookies) to distance myself from my feelings from practice. Maybe I didn’t want to feel upset, and mad, and disappointed, so instead I ate for awhile.

Does that sound crazy? I feel like maybe it sounds crazy… 

I don’t know why I stopped before it turned into a full on binge, all I was doing was watching a movie so not like I was purposefully trying to figure out and work through anything. I am very glad I stopped though!

If this eating was an act of dealing with my disappointment in myself I gotta say it is super counter intuitive. There is no way eating cookies and ice cream is going to help me do better at my sport, in fact they will do the opposite! So I guess I better sort some shit out in my head to see if I can stop this from happening again. 

How I go about that though I’m not quite sure…

Binge

I’m writing this on my iPad, I hate writing posts on my iPad, and I’m using my whining as a last ditch effort to avoid talking about what I actually want to talk about…

I binged. This evening. I am laying in bed, I feel so incredibly sick, and miserable, and it is taking everything in me to not take my laxatives, or my metabolism boosters, or to try to throw up. 

On top of trying to resist doing any of those things I am also trying my damndest to resist hurting myself. 

Those things I just listed, the pills, the laxatives, the self harm, those are the only coping skills I have, I haven’t learned new ones yet. 

I don’t know what to do, I’m so incredibly upset with myself. I think this had been a record length of time without a binge and now I’ve fucked it all up. I was weak, and stupid, and I fucked up. 

Physically I feel sick, my stomach hurts, my stomach is distended, I have bile coming up my throat from being too full, I feel like throwing up but haven’t….yet…

Emotionally I feel sad, depressed, I’ve let myself down, I feel like a failure, I feel like screaming and yelling and punching something and fighting but I also feel like curling up in a ball and crying and hiding from the world until this passes…though right now it feels like it will never pass, I feel like I’ll be in this hell forever. 

Mentally I am berating myself, I am reminding myself over and over of all the calories I ate (roughly, I wasn’t exactly counting as I gorged on food), I have been restricting for so long and now all that work is thrown out the window. I have things to do tomorrow and I’m going to have to do them while feeling the physical effects of this binge and dealing with the emotional hangover that I always have from a binge, and I’m going to have to work twice as hard tomorrow to make up for the food I ate today. I keep telling myself how much I suck, how I must not want to be skinny badly enough, how I can’t even stick to my restricting plan, how I fail at everything and it’s no wonder my acting career hasn’t taken off yet if I lack the conviction to succeed at something as simple as losing weight. 

And because I have taken no action to rid my body of this food I want to hurt myself. I need to hurt myself. I deserve to be punished for the stupid act of binging and if I’m not going to punish myself by taking pills or throwing up then the least I should be doing is burning myself, or cutting myself, or making bruises, or something, anything!  By doing nothing it is like I condone the behaviour, which I don’t!

I’m so mad at myself. At my weakness. At my actions. 

And oh man do I feel sick to my stomach from all that food. Ugh. 

I hope I remember for a long long time how I feel right now so the next time I’m tempted to binge I can stop myself, and remember it is so not worth it. 

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

Emotional Eating

For the longest time I didn’t think I engaged in emotional eating. Eventually I came to terms with the knowledge that when I am depressed, sad, going through something shitty, basically down, I emotionally eat. That is when I am most likely to binge. When I am most likely to rely on food to (1) help me not feel anything at all and (2) deal with the emotions that manage to bubble up from where all the food I ate pushed them.

Well…this past week I got great news, amazing news, news that made me so incredibly happy, and about half a second after I got the news my brain was screaming at me “STOP EATING!!!!”

I was immediately bombarded with an absolute fear of all food and the certain knowledge I had to uber restrict starting right away.

Part of me fully, 100% agreed, with this. I know I have to restrict asap. I have to look my absolute best in 2 weeks time and I can’t do that looking how I look now can I? No of course I can’t, I am fat, and weak, and disgusting, and I have to work! work! work! to make myself even a little bit better as soon as I can so I look my best for this upcoming event.

A teeny tiny part of my brain took a step back and muttered, “girl, you’re tripping”. You got invited to this event by people who know what you look like, they chose you because you fit the criteria they have for this event, they don’t want you to drastically change in this two week time span. Just keep on doing what you’ve been doing and you’ll be fine. Don’t restrict. Don’t cut yourself down to 400-700 calories a day. Don’t. Do. It.

For the rest of the day I fought the urge to restrict. I ate my meal plan, which is still technically under eating but whatever, it is more than 700 calories which is what I was eating prior to my trying to get better so for now it’ll hafta do.

By the end of the day I was filled with so much despair and desperation because I hadn’t started restricting I wanted to binge. I was so convinced I was ruining my chances, destroying this opportunity, by not restricting, I wanted to go in the opposite direction and eat allllllll the food.

I managed to not binge.

I also managed to somehow realize that these emotional swings I was having were leading me to want to either restrict or binge…or was it the wanting to restrict and binge that was leading to me having all these emotions? It’s all a circle to me, hard to figure out where any of it starts.

The next day I started off ok, on track food wise, then I had an unplanned meal in a restaurant for lunch where I had to make a super fast food decision and I thought I picked well but when I pulled up the nutritional information later I learned I made a big mistake. My only saving grace was I didn’t eat the entire meal and I worked out to help burn it off.

It wasn’t a binge, since it was a portion some other person would have eaten, and I didn’t follow it up with a bunch of other food, but it gave me a similar emotional response as a binge because it was a bigger portion of food than what I usually eat.

It pushed down all the emotions I was feeling for a while, then guilt surged in to take the place of all those emotions, then the emotions swirled back, so now I was feeling guilty, and unworthy, and disgusting, and blah blah blah.

I gotta say, that meal didn’t really help me in the end.

So here I am, days later, still fighting the simultaneous urges to restrict and binge. Part of me knows that engaging in either of those behaviours will not help me in two weeks time when I will be at this event, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to engage in them…like an alcoholic wanting a drink to smooth the edges, I want the soothing effect of my drug, my food, or my feeling strong by resisting all food. But I can’t. I can’t engage in either behaviour right now because it could endanger my ability to be at my best in two weeks.

This is so messed up, I hate it.

my head

tired

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

What To Say…

I’ve come here and written and then deleted so many posts lately, or sometimes I just come, open a new post and stare at the white screen not knowing where to start. It is frustrating wanting to write but not knowing what I want to say, or knowing what I want to say but not being able to express it well enough to hit “publish”.

I’ve been having a tough time lately, dealing with family stuff, personal stuff, work stuff, just stuff. And yeah, I know everyone has shit to deal with but ya know, some people are better at dealing than others. I know with some things I am great at dealing and other things not so much, shrug, its just how I am I guess.

I ran in to an ex the other day and by some weird fluke I wasn’t looking horrible. It was a race day so I was in my team jersey and yoga pants with all my gear on and I had just finished a race so I wasn’t exactly looking glamorous but since he competes in the same sport he knows what people look like after a race. My team ranked higher than his, which is a first, he was always the one on a better ranking team and he never let me forget it. The thing that stuck with me from that chance encounter is that he has gained weight. Not like some massive amount or anything, but definitely gained. I know noticing and commenting on that makes me seem petty and juvenile but just so you know my side of things, when we were dating he used to tell me I had better not get fat and if I gained weight he would dump me, so sorry if it is rude but it made me grin seeing he got bigger.

Another thing that happened, I was with friends, friends who know I am trying to lose weight but who don’t know I have an ed. There was a huuuuge box of TimBits and one of my friends took the box and shoved it in my face and taunted me, trying to get me to eat them. I kept saying no, which was sooooo freakin hard, and she kept doing it, with others chiming in! I had already eaten 4 which is waaaaaay over the amount I should have eaten and knew I was headed for a binge later in the evening if I wasn’t careful, in fact I was already planning a route home that would take me past a Tim Horton’s so I could buy my own box, scarf them all down, and have no one be the wiser. Ugh. So anyways, there they were, doing their damndest to get me to eat all the TimBits and somehow I managed to stick to my guns and not eat them…well, anymore than the four I already mentioned I ate.

I am pretty mad that they wouldn’t leave me alone but at the same time they don’t know my struggle so how can I expect them to know not to do that? And also, even if they did know my struggle, I don’t want people to have to feel like they have to handle me with kids gloves ya know? I want to be strong enough to deal with whatever comes my way and not internally freak out, or get depressed, or binge as a way to deal. I’m not there yet but maybe one day…

I’ve been feeling really sad lately, for no apparent reason, so I’m putting it down to being in one of my slumps. They happen sometimes and they suck. I can feel when they are starting but have never been able to stop one from starting. It is like being sucked down in to a dark pit, you see you are at the edge and you see the ground crumbling under your feet but you can’t care enough to step back, you just watch as you fall and hope that eventually you figure out how to climb out of the pit. I’ve always managed to climb out eventually but I’m pretty sure one day I won’t be able to…not sure what will happen then…

I’m still losing weight, so that’s good. Not as quickly as I want but hey, down is better than maintaining or going up! Also, if I lose the weight a bit slower people won’t notice it as quickly which means I’ll have fewer people worried or trying to sabotage my efforts so all-in-all, slow might be a better choice for right now. It sucks because I am impatient and want to lose it all right away but I’m trying to focus on slow being better rather than my impatience…I’m not always good at it but I’m trying…

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