Tag Archives: fat

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. 😦

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.  Realizing 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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The Pain

Can a person cause physical damage to their stomach, or other parts of their digestive system by the size, or speed, or length, of their binge eating session?

I binged last night. And not like a smallish, sorta manageable, have less guilt after, the next day seems normal, kind of binge. Ooooh no. Yesterday’s binge was a take no prisoners, leave no food behind, cause all the bodily pain and discomfort possible, feel all the guilt, have physical problems the next day kind of binge.

I have been feeling sick all day. Sick to my stomach. Sore throat. Headache. Trouble thinking. Distended abdominal area. Inability to eat. Painful abdominal area. Constipation. All of it and then some!

I wanted to call in sick to work today but couldn’t. Then I toyed with going in but saying I was sick and leaving early but I couldn’t do that either. We were short staffed and there was no one to come in. Plus, it is a stat today and I really need the time and a half. So I looked at being there as my punishment for my binge.

It was the longest 8 hours. After work I went for an hour fast walk with a work friend, then I showered and met for a meeting with two other people. During all of that I was feeling sick. I guess I looked it because people asked me if I was ok, when I said I wasn’t feeling well they said they could tell…which is the polite way of saying someone looks like crap. *rolls eyes*

It is almost 11pm, it has been over 24 hours since my binge, and I still hurt. My stomach is still distended. My abdominal area looks like it gained back all the weight I have lost! Not even an exaggeration, it is disgusting. I still feel sick to my stomach. My throat hurts because my stomach was so full yesterday stomach acid was coming up my esophagus. My mouth has been creating more saliva than normal, what’s with that?

Is it possible to cause physical damage from your binge session? Like, can you hit an overload point where your stomach just says “fuck it” and stops working because I feel like the food is still sitting there and it is causing me so many problems.

I am so mad at myself, so incredibly disappointed. I don’t know why I did it, but I sure as shit regret it. I need this pain and sickness to go away. I need the abdominal area to go back to being smaller. I need this to clear up because all I can think about, all I experience, all I feel, is connected to that binge and lemme tell ya, that is putting my head in a dark place I am not sure I know how to get out of.

Whyyyyy did I have to decide to quit my laxatives and other purging methods? I want to take a pill to move this whole thing along so badly buuuut I don’t want to feel guilt over caving and taking something when I am at a record length of time not using any of those methods. Plus, the last time I used them they caused similar physical sensations, bloated, painful abdominal area, weight gain, sick to stomach feeling. I’m scared taking them will make all of my physical problems even worse instead of better.

I am so frustrated I want to cry.

Think an er would pump my stomach and fix this problem if I lied and said I overdosed on something? I did technically overdose, on food, that’s a thing, right?

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. 

Official Weigh-In

Every Thursday I have what I think of as my Official Weigh-In. I weigh myself everyday at home but my scale is not as accurate as a scale I have access to on Thursdays so I use my daily at home weigh-ins as a guideline but if asked my weight or when I think of my weight I go by the number on the Thursday weigh-in.

My scale only goes by the 0.5 but this other scale gives much more accurate numbers, so instead of a ###.5 it might say ###.3, and accuracy is important!

Yesterday I put in a 14 hour work day and wasn’t home and in bed until almost 5am Thursday morning. When my alarm went off so I’d get up for weigh-in I hit “Stop” instead of “Snooze” and next thing I know I have missed my shot at being weighed in on the better scale.

Arg! 😦

So. Annoying.

Alas, the world isn’t going to end, but it does irritate me because despite my long work day yesterday and some poor food choices made I am pretty sure I still lost weight this week. One and a half pounds if you’re wondering.

Yay!

Down from my two pounds lost per week for the last two weeks but see, that is where the decimal point number comes in to play. My scale said I was down 1.5 pounds but it could be higher, like 1.8…it could also be lower, like 1.4 but let’s not focus on that k? 😉

Another annoying thing about my scale is it always shows me as lower than the better scale. Now, this could be because I weigh myself at home right after going to the toilet and only wearing panties (sorry for the tmi) whereas the other scale has me wearing clothes. Oh the hardship of weighing in somewhere other than your own bathroom, le sigh.

I am always so much happier with the number on my scale than the more accurate scale, but only because it shows me as lower than what I suppose I actually am. The only time I lean towards thinking it is more truthful is one day last summer when it was super humid out. Inside my place it was still nice and cool but as soon as I got outside the humidity got me and by the time I got to my weigh-in my hair was frizzy and I could feel that my skin was retaining water, or is it that my body is retaining water? Either way, I could feeeeel the effects of the humidity, and the scale sure showed it! The lady weighing me said everyone was up that day due to the humidity and not to worry and I think she was right because the next week I was down all that I had “gained” plus some.

While I don’t have my official weigh-in results, thanks to missing my chance, I still know I went down because of what my scale showed me when I got up. I just don’t know for sure what I weigh right now, officially, and it is driving me a tad nuts lol I wanna know!

Not knowing though won’t be an excuse to go all crazy food wise. In fact I think it’ll just have me work harder so that next week when I step on the better scale I can have that much more of a loss.

Dedication. It sure can achieve results! 😀

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I Over Compensate

If I eat something that isn’t a safe food, or a higher quantity of food (safe or not) I struggle. And in that struggle I find I automatically cut back on all food to compensate. I think it is something I have done for a long time, but only really noticed recently. Probably because it is only recently I started working at dissecting what I do in regards to food.

So, I noticed this, and mentioned it to my nutritionist, and it disturbed her, and it made me feel like I am in trouble, and that maybe it isn’t a normal or ok thing to do.

This weekend I was away with my sports team competing. I was gone from Friday late afternoon to Sunday late afternoon. That is a lot of meals outside of my routine and comfort zone!

Weekends like this usually turn in to a binge fest for me, but only sort of…I usually eat a fuck load of food, but not like I am sitting there with ice cream dripping down my face because I am constantly in the company of my team. It is always a struggle.

This weekend I went in to the weekend thinking maybe I could be ok, maybe I could manage to either eat more like a normal person, or at least restrict instead of over eat – in my world restricting is always the better option.

It didn’t work. I can’t say I managed either of my options.

I was ok with what I chose for Friday dinner because I had iron-fist control over all my food up to that point so I had eaten almost nothing to accommodate a restaurant meal.

Saturday was the competition and right up until dinner I did ok. I took my standard breakfast food with me, so I had that as a safe meal, and I ordered a really basic turkey sandwich for lunch that I could easily and accurately track, so again, that was ok. But then dinner happened. I won’t go in to details but lets just say it involved pizza, multiple desserts, gummy candies, and more.

Sunday was brunch. I had a plan, I got a made to order omelette and fresh fruit. That was all I was going to eat but then a teammate grabbed me a hash brown and I know it sounds stupid to say there was peer pressure to eat a hash brown, but there was. Normal people would eat it without a problem, and she wasn’t going to stop bugging me till I tried it. So I tried it, and it was freaking amazing. That started a downward spiral that consisted of more hash browns, waffles, and other brunch type foods. The scariest part of it was I could feel my control slipping. I wanted a stack of waffles, a bowl of fruit loops, more eggs, I wanted the fried potatoes, I wanted everything! I wanted it all, in large quantities, and covered in syrup, and I could see myself doing just that. I could see myself loading a plate and gorging myself on all that food.

I managed to not completely lose control but that fear has been with me the rest of the day. It is combined with the fear of “omg, how many pounds of weight have I put on since Friday” and “what if I am starting another binge cycle” and “I swear I am fatter in the mirror and my cheekbones and rib cage, and collar bones are not as prominent anymore”.

Lots of fear.

To deal with this fear I told myself I wouldn’t eat the rest of the day. When I made this promise to myself it was easy to do because I was still super full feeling from brunch and didn’t want anything. But now it is almost 10pm, I ate roughly 12 hours ago, and I think I am starting to feel a bit hungry, and I have no idea what to do.

Part of me wants to just go to bed and sleep through the hunger, I have an early shift at work tomorrow so this is a perfectly reasonable choice to me.

Part of me says I should have a light snack because 12 hours between meals is not what I am supposed to be doing and if I don’t eat until breakfast tomorrow it will actually be more like 21 hours and if 12 hours isn’t ok then 21 hours for sure is a no-no.

Part of me says eating so close to going to bed is not recommended…though I don’t know who says that…

Part of me says going to bed hungry means you don’t sleep as well…also not sure where I heard that one…

I think maybe my choice to not eat anything was not the best choice…maybe it wasn’t actually my choice but my eating disorder’s choice?…and if that is the case then I should fight it…but then I get stumped on what, if anything I should eat, because I am sure I have eaten more than my normal amount of calories for the day, and if I have, then shouldn’t I stop eating because I shouldn’t go over my calories, right? I’m not sure which is the right option, eating a snack and going over my calories for the day, or not eating something and going a long time between meals…

not hungry

Just gotta keep telling myself this…

3 Days

For three days in a row I lost 0.5 lbs a day! 🙂  That’s 1.5 lbs in three days!

I know other people lose faster but for me that is freakin amazing! I weighed myself Friday and Saturday before work, those days I worked the late shift so I had slept in (ensuring I didn’t have to eat or realize I was skipping breakfast), had a quick step on the scale before getting ready for work, and was quite happy with where the number was going. I wasn’t going to weigh myself Sunday as I worked the early morning shift and I don’t like weighing myself at different times of the day – these things matter ok? For some reason I decided I would hop on the scale “just to see how it differs at 5:30am vs 12:30pm” and holy fuck I was down another half a pound.

Three days in a row!

I was practically beaming with pride.

What is annoying is there is nobody to tell and celebrate with. Nobody else would think this is a good thing, although I am over the moon happy about it.

I didn’t weigh myself today, I worked the early morning shift again and slept in so I didn’t have time to strip, pee, weigh myself, either celebrate with a happy dance or stare at myself in the mirror and criticize myself (if I had gone up), so I skipped the scale today.

I’m thinking I probably should have taken the time to weigh myself because today after work, and after my after work exercise, I ended up buying two different types of ice cream and ordering a burger and fries from a restaurant that has amazing burgers, sigh.

I ate the burger, the fries, and one Drumstick ice cream and holy fuck my stomach is so messed up now. It has been almost 6 hours since I ate the food and I can still feel it in my stomach! Why isn’t it going anywhere?? It is this lump of food, it is painful, my stomach is actually rounder (food baby anyone? ugh), I am so uncomfortable – and not just “omg I ate something my brain is panicking” uncomfortable, you know, the kind that is all a mental game that you can try to distract yourself from. Nope, this is actual physical discomfort that is making me feel sick, but not throwing up sick, just so not well in my stomach. I don’t have the words to describe how it feels, its just bad ok? It feels bad.

So all that happiness, that pride, that yay I am doing so well at losing weight and being so good with my restricting has come to an abrupt end. A brutal, fast, calorie dense, end.

Sigh.

Why do I always have to fuck up like this?

To top it off I cancelled my appointment with my nutritionist for this week, and tomorrow I will be calling to cancel my being at group session this week. In my defense this isn’t a random decision, I got offered a 12 hour work day for that day and I really need the money so I would have cancelled a visit with the Pope in order to take the work. It does suck that I’m cancelling two recovery related things though…except, does it suck? It should suck. If this was two weeks ago I’d probably be bummed, hell, I might have convinced myself to not take the work, but it’s been a little while since I’ve had a one-on-one cause of scheduling and I barely said two words in group last week so it was almost like not being there, and well, I’ve sorta distanced myself emotionally from the whole process.

I’m debating staying in the recovery program. I don’t know that it is for me. I think I was becoming too reliant on having people that I saw on a regular basis when really, I need to learn how to stand on my own, how to cope with stuff by myself. I think I’ve gotten a bit better, I don’t binge nearly as much now, and that is what I wanted help with. My restricting has become the more prominent behaviour which is helping me lose weight and that was the end goal I wanted – not necessarily to be restricting more but to be binge eating less so I’d lose the weight I put on from binge eating.

And wow this got off track lol this was supposed to be about how I was so excited that I lost half a pound a day for three days in a row – and I would still be happy about that, if I didn’t have a burger and fries and ice cream sitting in my stomach slowly trying to kill me. Ugh.

Does anybody know if slow digestion of a large quantity of food after restricting for a while is normal? I think I heard somewhere the digestion process slows down or something? I swear I can already see the fat from the food making my body fatter, not just my stomach but everywhere. 😦  Thank goodness I have a high activity, low food day, planned for tomorrow!

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The Scale

The scale is whack yo.

Yes, apparently I am a 90’s, white boy from suburbia who thinks he is cool today…

Ok not really.

But the scale is pretty fucked up. Or is it me?

My “official” weigh-in is Thursdays. I go to a WW meeting and stand on a scale and if I am asked by someone that week what I weigh, that number is the one I will give. I do however weigh myself at home, often.

My home scale and the WW scale don’t ever match. My home scale usually has me one pound lower than the WW scale, sometimes a pound and a half. You don’t know how fucking irritating it is to see a number on my scale at home the morning of weigh-in and then get to weigh-in and see it up by 1 to 1.5 pounds. Even though I know that increase will be partly due to my clothes, and the humidity in the weigh-in room, and that I hadn’t just right the second before stepping on that scale gone to the bathroom, it doesn’t matter. It pisses me off that my “official” weigh-in is higher than my home scale.

Anyways!

I’m getting on to a tangent, sorry…

So, I knew last Thursday my weight would be up, it wasn’t a great week for me food and exercise wise. There was way more food than there should have been and nowhere near the amount of exercise there should have been and all that results in my becoming an even fatter version of myself.

Lovely.

Two days before my official weigh-in I pulled out the metabolism boosters. I had put them in the back of a cupboard thinking I could stop using them. Apparently I was wrong.

Took some of those.

Then the day before weigh-in I stopped eating so I would be in a state of fasting when I got to the scale and I took some laxatives. I had also put those in the back of the cupboard thinking I could stop using them. You’re probably not shocked to hear I was wrong about that also.

The thing is, I know taking the laxatives isn’t a guaranteed method for helping me before a weigh-in. The box says within 6 hours of taking them I’ll be relieving myself but that timeline never pans out for me.

For me, I ended up going to weigh-in with abdominal pain, I was gassy feeling, felt bloated, and I hadn’t gone to the bathroom.

Why do I take these things?? Or at least why do I wait to take them until the day prior? I should be taking them two days prior but noooooo, I pop em the day before weigh-in, essentially screwing myself over. Ugh.

So yeah, my official weigh-in had me up. Not shocking. It had me up a lot though which was disheartening.

I tried to convince myself it was because I wore a long shirt instead of a tank top, and that the humidity was killing me, and that I hadn’t pooped yet. But really, I ate bad that past week, and I didn’t exercise as much as normal, so the gain was deserved.

Later that same day the laxatives kicked in, yay! I still had abdominal pain but the being bloated and gassy went away after some toilet visits. That evening I stepped on the scale, I normally don’t step on it in the evening cause it messes with my head, but I wanted to see if the bathroom visits had made a difference.

They had not.

In fact, I was up even more than in the morning! I started freaking out, was the scale just going to keep going up and up and up? Was all that food cementing itself in to my fat cells never to leave my body?

I came up with a panicked plan about how to fix all this damage I did by eating the previous week. Not a rational normal person plan, but a back to eating no more than 700 calories a day and popping metabolism boosters like they are candy and exercising every single day sort of plan. Soooo, not a good plan. *rolls eyes*

But hey, do I get points for realizing it wasn’t a good plan?

Probably not…sigh.

I stepped on the scale again today (Friday). The day after my official weigh-in. I don’t know what I was expecting. I mean, yeah, I under ate yesterday, but one day of under eating wasn’t going to take away all that gain on the scale. I guess I just wanted to keep an eye on things.

Well holy shit, the scale changed, and it had gone down! It showed me back at the weight I was at 2 weeks ago.

Thank all the gods!

Now to not screw up the magical loss of those pounds so I can be down on my official weigh-in day next week…

I am not sure if I should villianize the pills because yes ok, they didn’t help me on weigh-in day but ultimately I was down by the day after, so maybe if I’d taken the metabolism boosters on the Monday and the laxatives on the Tuesday I would have had the Wednesday to be gassy etc, and then I might have been down for the Thursday weigh-in?

I don’t know. I get so confused.

Either way, I was in a pretty good mood today once I saw the scale number was down. Though I’m starting to worry about tomorrow and what it will say when I step on it then…seriously, does this cycle ever fucking end?

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