“Eating against one’s will” – my own personal definition of ‘powerlessness’
Today is my Day 30. I have not binged for one full month.
My last binge.
It was Friday, November 30. I went home after work and had my normal dinner around 6:00 pm. I was alone but had plans to meet up with friends around 8:00 pm.
I had nothing to do for two hours and I started to feel sorry for myself. I’m newly divorced, don’t have a boyfriend, and was facing another lonely weekend.
And then I started craving something sweet. I wondered what new flavors they had at the local frozen yogurt place. I told myself I would have just one medium-sized serving.
The lie of “just one.”
Now you have to remember that at the time, I’d been bingeing for almost nine months and gained 20 pounds.
I’d tried about ten different approaches to stop: gentle eating, mindful eating, not depriving myself, three meals a day, eating only whole foods, Keto … nothing had worked.
I’d never, ever been able to pull off “just one.”
It’s bad when even you know you’re lying.
As I walked to the yogurt place, I knew I was going to binge and I began pleading with myself:
- You don’t have to do this.
- Turn back! Go home. Call someone.
- Please don’t do this to yourself.
But despite what my head was thinking, my feet kept walking.
That’s the thing with this disease: you eat against your own will. You eat when you don’t want to. You eat when you have every reason not to eat.
You eat because you can’t not eat.
I did actually eat only frozen yogurt serving … but that was just my warm up.
Afterward, I went into the nearby grocery store, bought two full bags of sugary binge foods – some of which I ate on the walk home – and then binged for the next two hours.
I texted my friends, saying I wasn’t going to make it because I “wasn’t feeling well.” I’d lied and flaked so many times, I knew it was only a matter of time before they dropped me. I couldn’t blame them: bingeing had turned me into a bad friend.
I went to bed stuffed, unable to breathe, and full of self-loathing. I thought that if this didn’t stop, I’d have to figure out a way to kill myself. There’s no way I could take this kind of pain much longer.
And then a miracle happened.
In the middle of the night, I got the idea to start this blog. It came out of nowhere.
Why don’t you start writing about what’s happening to you? You can’t be the only one.
On Saturday, December 1, I woke up sick, puffy … and determined. I Googled “free blog sites,” found this one, set up a free template, and wrote my first blog.
And now I have 30 days.
If you’re a regular reader, please let me know how you’re doing. Leave a comment or email me at Day1recovery@gmail.com.
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