Tag Archives: depression

A-ha moment

Just had an a-ha moment in regards to one reason why I binge. I’ve always known it has to do with feeling overwhelmed or out of control; it’s like a little way of saying “fuck you, I’ll eat all the things I’m not ‘supposed’ to eat just because I CAN.” But sometimes I don’t feel like that fits – I’m not doing anything really stressful; just sitting on the couch – until tonight when it clicked.

My husband is an alcoholic. We’ve had conversations and screaming matches, I’ve made graphs and bawled my eyes out, but nothing ever changes. And so I guess that aspect of my life is ALWAYS out of control, leading to random urges – urges that get irresistible when he’s passed out on the couch before 9pm. So tonight I binged on ice cream, chips, and bagels. I feel disgusted with myself both physically and mentally, but it’s slightly helpful to have figured out a piece of the puzzle.

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Relapse. Again. 

So all week I’ve been stuck in the binge cycle, finally culminating with a purge last night. Then today I’ve been eating shit again, and tomorrow I’m going to the beach and will have to be in a bikini hating myself. I don’t understand why I can’t quit this shit. Why can’t I stop eating before I’m uncomfortably full? Why am I so drawn to all the worst shit? Why do I keep buying binge food and keeping it in the house when I fucking know better? And why is starving the next day the only solution that seems reasonable to my fucked-up brain? Logically I know that doesn’t help. I know it likely is a strong contributor to my binging behavior. Why is ED able to override my logical side EVERY TIME?? 

I’m too old for this shit

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. 

Science

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?

Sugar is bad

It makes me feel shitty. Never once have I finished a bag of candy and thought, “gee I feel great.” I usually want to puke, but purging candy is a lost cause. I feel like a fat cow. I get bloated and thirsty. It sets me up for more overeating. It makes me fat. It makes me feel out of control. It makes me feel weak. It makes me tired. It makes me too full for healthy food. It gives me zits. It makes me depressed. 

Hopefully if I can just remember these reasons I’ll be able to stop eating this shit. 

Lost

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.