After like seven years together, my shrink is moving to St. Louis. She wants me to get set up with someone new before our last appt next month. But I don’t want to. I’ve been doing this shit for half my life, and I am fucking tired of it. I’m so goddamn tired of caring so much about the numbers on the scale and on my pants. I am so goddamn tired of my self esteem being inversely correlated to the number of calories I eat each day. I’ll begrudgingly call my PCP’s office and ask for a referral a few days before I see my shrink for the last time only because I need someone to keep writing my prescriptions. But I don’t want to start over working through my issues. I don’t want to start over trying to be happy when it’s February and I haven’t seen the sun in a week and I’m eating a pint of Ben & Jerry’s for lunch. I just want to be a fucking normal 30 year old. I’m too old for this shit.
I often wonder if scientific exploration of EDs do more harm than good. Like I know I sometimes exhibit traits of Aspergers, but getting an actual diagnosis of an intellectual disorder like that would cause my self esteem to plummet. I need to think I’m normal with some minor issues; anything else sends me into a spiral of hopelessness. I often imagine my “normal” coworkers talking about my craziness and it makes me want to be more stringent in my eating so as to at least have control over something in my life. I actually bought diet pills the other day in the hopes of losing 5-10 lbs – hoping that if I can at least get my weight on track I can play like I have my life on track. I don’t know how to get out of this spiral. Help?
So I think I had a bit of a breakthrough today, or at least made some progress. I was craving something sweet so I made a mug cake (single-serve dessert!), and I even added ice cream because it honestly makes most things better. But about ¾ of the way though I realized I didn’t want anymore and I THREW IT AWAY. What?! I’m always one of those people who feel super guilty wasting food (but somehow it’s not wasting it if I eat it and puke it up??), so it was a big deal for me to not force myself to finish. Go me!
So after weeks of binging, sometimes purging, and watching my weight go up, I decided to do something about it. I watched this documentary about juice fasting called “Fat, Sick, & Nearly Dead,” so I thought maybe I’ll try that just for one meal a day, and stop buying snacks. Well I made it four days, lost three pounds, and the this morning I was continually dizzy so I gave in and had pasta for lunch. But I’m not quitting; I think I’m into something here. Until the dizziness I did feel better upping my veggie intake and cutting out the junk. So, unlike in the past, I’m not going to use eating pasta as an excuse to binge all day. I’m going to get back on track and stick to my plan of no junk. Hopefully this positivity and determination last this time.
Why is it that when things in life start going good, my eating goes to shit? I get turning to ED when everything is out of control and falling apart, but life is going pretty well right now so why did I spend the day binging and purging?? It’s like I can’t handle not being unhappy in some aspect of my life. Fuck.
My husband has been out half the day so I’ve taken the opportunity to just binge and purge repeatedly. Girl Scout cookies, raw cookie dough, cold Chinese food, ice cream, etc. It wasn’t even pleasurable; it was frantic and hopeless. And I’ve since had soup (129), an apple (80), microwave popcorn (300), and a Snickers (150), which I haven’t purged any of but am certainly thinking about.
I thought I was done with this, but I guess I can only binge so many days in a row before the need to purge becomes too strong. I need to stop eating junk is what I need to do. I made the stupid decision to buy a bunch of Cadbury cream eggs (160) the other day and had been eating them nonstop for two days prior. Hopefully I’m done for a while. I don’t really have any junk left in the house so as long as I don’t buy any at the store I should be okay.
But of course now I feel like I need to restrict during the week. I’m certainly not planning on eating lunch, or at least not more than a fruit (80) and a string cheese(80), or maybe a nonfat latte (120). I’m not planning on having the oatmeal that had become routine; I’ll have a light English muffin (100) with maybe a tablespoon of pb (90) and sugar-free jam (10). Hopefully my husband feels like eating healthy this week and we can just have chicken (200) with veg (100-200, depending on the veg) for dinner.
I just bought some more small-size clothes, so unless I want them to hang in my closet unworn (like half my closet already) I need to lose weight. Max 1200 cal/day until my birthday. Then I’ll be 30 and I’ll really have to commit to cutting the sugar for good if I don’t want to balloon up, so hopefully these next two weeks will help me get on the right track. We’ll see…
Sometimes I want to recover. Sometimes I want to say “fuck it” and eat whatever I want without thinking about fat or calories or any of that. Sometimes I eat dessert, and then want another dessert so I have something else. Sometimes I think I look “good enough” and consider just buying larger pants.
But sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I can’t imagine giving up control of my diet. Sometimes I can’t bring myself to eat even 1000 calories in a day. Sometimes I feel immense guilt for not working out. Sometimes I look in the mirror and hate everything I see. Sometimes I can’t even wear a normally-fitting t-shirt, never mind something form-fitting.
So what do I do? Am I making progress? When I think of 10 years ago, bawling on the phone to my girlfriend because I couldn’t make myself eat some peas after fasting for four days, I think I’m doing much better. When I think of where I was nine years ago, binging and purging over a dozen times a day, I think I’m almost normal. But when I think of 13 years ago, before I ever started “dieting,” I think I’m pathetic.
Maybe I’ll be actually recovered in another ten years. Hopefully I make it that long.