Category Archives: Eating Disorder

Holes

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I usually dread when I wake up in the morning.  Mostly because my thoughts begin to race as soon as cognition begins.   Fears trickle in slowly at first, a few drops at a time.  Then it’s like a deluge, as if a faucet was turned on in my head.  Will things ever be “good” I wonder?  Will I ever feel happy and free?  Will I ever love myself? Will I ever accept myself? Can I ever forgive myself?  Then depression  sets in.

I lead a very solitary life.  Most days the only people I see are my kids and my fiancé.   I isolate a lot because of how bad I look.

The weight gain from this food addiction has made me want to hide from the world.  I look like bloody hell.   My teenager tells me this on occasion.  Half of me is hurt and and half of me is proud that he tells the truth.  Then he says he’s sorry when he sees my eyes look down at the floor.    I’m not sure whether to believe he’s sorry for what he said,  I think he just feels bad that it hurt me.

It’s difficult to find the motivation to get up in the morning and face the day.  I have a lot of anxiety about all the things that are going wrong in my life and all the things that are about to go wrong.   I want to reflexively face all of them the same way, with food.

Looking in the mirror is not something I want to do anymore because I feel a lot of shame about how I look.    I’m ashamed about it but also know I’ve done this to myself.  So don’t feel I have any right to wallow in pity.

I am destroying my body for food but still can’t stop no matter how hard I try.   It’s so fucked up.    Maybe the answer is to be locked up somewhere for 28 days.

Talking in therapy about it just isn’t doing jack shit.    The therapist is nice but she is ill equipped to help me.  I end up telling her jokes to pass the time.  I already know that my fucked up childhood is where my unhealthy relationship with food began.  I was alone a lot as a kid, desperate for love and attention.  I didn’t get enough of either.  Instead I got abused.   Holes developed in my heart.

As a child I remember family members giving me yummy treats when I was having a hard day.  The same family I wanted to love me.  It was then an unhealthy relationship with food was born.

At some later point rather incidentally, I found myself turning to food when I became upset,  for comfort.  I guess it was like a vicarious way of having a connection with them through eating the food they gave me.  Their presence was unpredictable.   The food that was in my house however, was always at the ready.

It’s been decades of livimg this way.

Eating is what I want to do all day long.   So I eat whenever I can.  If people are around and watching, I will sneak it.   Food always makes me happy.    It helps me forget about all the shame, anxiety, and depression I have in my life.  It’s like it takes me to a better place even if it’s just for a little while.   Everything seems like it will be okay but it’s only lasts as long as I’m eating.   As soon as I stop the bad feelings return, plus a stomachache.   At the same time I know that food addiction is part of the reason why my life is like this.  The more I eat, the worse it gets.

Every addict has the voice of an angel or getting healthier and a devil or staying in the addiction on either shoulder.   So far, the food addiction is winning.

I know that I am killing myself with food.    I don’t want to get sicker but I’m losing hope with this battle.

 

 

 


Best friend

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Okay, so I haven’t been able to string even a day of clean eating together in what seems like forever.   This addiction has morphed into a beast.   I haven’t stopped fighting though.  I just don’t know how to fight it.    

Food addiction is a physical addiction with a cravings and withdrawal cycle.  Anyone who tells you different hasn’t done their homework.  They are uneducated and ignorant regarding the matter.   There are certainly emotional triggers that can bring about an eating “binge”.   

When I feel a certain way; my pattern of eating changes accordingly.   Actually, that last line is complete BS.   There is virtually no emotional state that won’t drive me to binge.  I eat when I’m happy, I eat when I’m sad, I eat when I’m nervous, I eat when I’m angry, I eat to celebrate, I eat out of boredom.  Food has been there when people haven’t.  In a strange way food has been a best friend.   It’s just that my best friend is trying to disfigure my body and ultimately kill me so it’s like an abusive relationship that I need to end.  

I truly believe that people with addictions don’t get better until they hit their bottom. I don’t know what my bottom will be because it keeps getting lower.

In my 20’s I told myself I’d never go above 140 lbs.  Blew past that.  In my 30’s I told myself I’d never binge at someone else’s house on their food.   Did that at my moms.    Promised myself I’d never binge on my kids Halloween candy.   Did it.  All the while saying “I’ll replace it while they are at school before they realize it’s even gone.”  But really? Really! Who does this shit!!  Who takes candy from a baby? Besides that, even if they never found out, I knew….I knew.  And looking in the mirror became harder to do for more than the obvious reason.

Even though I’ve been asking God for help I don’t know if I will get better because I’m not sure that I’m ready to part ways with this toxic relationship.   Does that make sense? 

Part of me is ready to get healthy but only part of the time.   It waxes and wanes on any given day.  How far down river will I get, when I don’t have both recovery oars in the water?

For a non-food iaddict, food is just food.  For me, food is so many things:  Food is comfort, it is stress relief, food is safety, it’s happiness, food is love.   I know some  normal people will read that line and think, “wow that is so effed up!  ‘Food is love?’ they will say to themselves?  I know it’s true seeing it on paper does sound crazy, but that’s the powerful distorted connection it has in this writer’s  life.  That’s why diets don’t work or if they do, the weight loss usually returns so fast.   Once weight loss happens I go right back to that missing friend, that missing thing which used to comfort me.  That’s why Oprah Winfrey who has millions in net worth cannot, even with the aide of a personal chef, trainer, and psychotherapy seem to keep the weight so easily.  It’s goes so deep.    

Hpw does one unwed the thing which for years that has brought them relief day in, day out? I have no idea but I know the solution isn’t in merely counting calories.

I know there are people who have broken free from food addiction.

I wonder if I will ever be able my shit together and get some decent clean time in.  This is so demoralizing.   My instinct is to to just hide out all day at home .  All the weight I’ve gained makes me feel self-conscious and ashamed.  Of course I could always traverse through the world wearing a bag over my head.  

Seriously, I don’t know anymore.   I need a plan though, because this is just not working for me.   


The Jig Is Up

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Okay. So I totally blew the diet. I’ve been freebasing flour and sugar for like a month now, easily.

I’m not sure I have the wherewithal to try again to get back on the proverbial wagon.

I’ve noticed a few changes.  I mean other than the obvious weight gain one would expect.  I have also noticed my mood could best be described as “bitch” on steroids.   I have a short list of at least 5 people with which I’d like to take a bat to their head like a piñata.

I’m pretty sure this isn’t good thing.

Oh and salad? Yeah all the shit to make one putrefied at the back of the fridge 3 weeks ago.  I ate pumpkin pie for breakfast and dinner today.   I think I need a fucking intervention but it doesn’t look good for me.  Not with the bat and all….


Sugar-cane shrapnel

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Captains log,  Stardate 2321.5

It is Day 33 of the Diet.  An invader boarded the ship smuggling Halloween candy with them.   I ordered a red alert.  Despite setting the phasers to stun I was unable to stop the powerful force field-like grip the candy had pulling me towards it.

I consumed a shit-ton of said confection and my self-esteem was badly injured in the melee.

I awoke with sugar dust on my lips,  chocolate on my fingers, lying in a pile of mini-wrappers feeling like I wanted to vomit.   Demoralized sums it up best.

Perhaps I am the unfortunate of which the Big Book speaks on page 58,  I’m feeling quite depressed.  After losing a good amount of weight when I faced the scale on Day 30, this my WP peeps was an epic fail.

“Chekov, resume original course to Planet Diet, warp factor 2.   Engage….”

 

 


In the Big house

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In addition to the clinical diagnosis of OCD I received at 19, I know I have body dysmorphia as well.  This is where when you look in the mirror you see a very distorted body image of yourself which is not accurate.  They are not mutually exclusive but can be comorbid diagnoses.   I know I look horrible, but when I point out others who I believe to which I look similar; they say “no way, that it’s simply not true.”  That I am projecting and exaggerating my fears rather than reality .   That is what I see? It isn’t a projection!

So I’m nearly 30 days in on this diet and it feels like I’m stuck in some sort of TV episode of ‘60 Days In’ meets ‘My 600 lb.life.‘

I’m not sure how I can keep doing this same old same old, ad nauseum, ad infinitum?  The old me lived for being alone in a room with my junk food freebasing a box of Little Debbies.    Now? Exercise is supposed to blow my dress back.  Well guess what.  It doesn’t.  It’s work.  And those neural pathways haven’t been created yet so it feels like drudgery.

Something weird has shifted though.  Other than eating Cheetos for that one discrete time, I seem to have developed the old food aversions that I had back a child.  Where I became so emaciated the doctor threatened to put a g-tube in me.

Fears related to food are cropping up all over again.  The same exact fears that caused my anorexia to begin at around age 10-11 years old.   I have severe OCD and get skeeved out pretty easily by a lot of foods.  I am an extremely picky eater.   If I cannot eat something that tastes palatable, I often opt to starve and just skip meals altogether.

It seems my dream of finding a better more healthy relationship with food is slipping away fast.

I feel frustrated.  I don’t know what belies this whole eating disorder and my therapist is not very helpful or insightful one bit.

I hope everyone out there who is on their own diet is able to stick with whatever they are doing.   Send me encouraging thoughts and prayers if you would!

‘Cause right now I’ve got the jailhouse blues.

 


I cheated

I was fantasizing all night about it and by 11:00 pm I couldn’t take it anymore.  I found myself walking as if in a dream-state to the kitchen to get a snack.

But wait! Snacks are not allowed on my diet you say?  You would be correct.  I cheated.   I cheated with my favorite salty crunchy snack.  Cheetos.

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The Cheeto Tiger with his dark glasses, and his brightly colored packaging like a light in the night, I knew he was a devil in disguise.  He and Little Debbie are in cahoots trying to seduce me.  The bastards.  When you add Mrs. Smith into the mix it becomes an unholy union.

I instantly felt guilty.  Thoughts like,”you worthless piece of shit you can’t do anything right”  and “wow you really fucked that up good” are some thoughts which came through my mind with ease.   Now luckily I didn’t devour a whole bag or anything.  But I shouldn’t have had ANY, hello.

The veggies just are losing their luster.  They just bore me now.   It’s starting to feel like government rations.   I need some excitement in my mouth.  I’m sick of bland chicken and beef.

Ugh.  Why in the hell can’t I be like one of these hardcore extremist dieters who never slip up and lose a shit ton of weight in only 2 months?  Well of course I lack any sort of discipline, that goes without saying.  I mean, I was hoping to uncover some other less obvious reasons?

Hopefully this was just a one-night-stand with this junk food .  Hopefully this doesn’t turn into a full-blown affair.

Stay tuned!!!!


Minecrack

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So often times when you are trying to get rid of one addiction, you need to find a healthier substitute to fill that empty space.

I’ve found something which helps me to distract my mental obsession with the food porn, which is everywhere.   It’s like a hamster that runs around on a little wheel in my head.

My defense against the food addict hamster on its wheel,  is Minecraft.

It started out over two weeks ago, I hopped on the PS4 and it’s now gained traction to where it’s now becoming dare I say another thing that I binge on.

I’ve built a penthouse, with a pool, an underground bunker with built-ins for all my chests for my “mined” ore, a nether portal, and use my map to explore all kinds of biomes.  I’m rocking this tween game like a boss.

It’s so addictive, it should be called Minecrack.  Mojang is making a killing.  But hey, as long as I’m staying on the straight and narrow it’s all good.

I’m pretty sure I have a highly addictive personality.  Ahem….

Gotta run now, back to the mines.

 

 


Diet

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So I’ve been on this diet.  I have a crap ton of weight to lose.   I love it when my pot-belllied primary care physician in his mid-60’s told me that I needed to lose weight at my last check-up.  As if it’s something I didnt know? WTF.   I almost wanted  to pretend to over exaggerate falling off that tiny half-table they sit your ass on and say,” Oh my God! I’m over weight?” “is there anything I can do about it doctor?” “Is there any hope?” And then fake cry.

As if I don’t already know and I never look in the damn mirror.  He looks like he’s ready to push out twins mind you….but okay.

Back to the diet.  Let’s start with the word diet.  It’s comprised of the words “die” from the German “dii” and “t”.  That’s because of you don’t go on it, you die and you get a nice cross over your grave after the burial service.  So okay, the etymology was total bullshit but it sounded good.

I have been on said diet since October 7th.  Time feels like dog years or some shit with each day passing.  Each hour is expanding somehow.   I watch other people eating bread and feel envious, and if I spy someone eating pastry? I want to curse at them.  Jealous little thing I am.   In some cruel twist of fate my metabolism has slowed from when I was twenty.  I gain weight looking at their damn cupcake!

All the slicing and the chopping and the vegetable prepping is so labor intensive.   I can’t wait for this dog and pony show to be over.

Where is the healthy food drive-thru?  Where can I order my 4 oz of protein and 8 oz of raw veggies, and 8 oz of steamed spinach to go Mcfast.  Oh that’s right nowhere.  There’s only Mcslop up the street under the Golden Arches.

Every where I turn there is flagrant food porn staring me down, enticing me to “come back.”

I am holding steady though.  Like walking a tight rope 100 feet up.  So far I’ve only tettered on the wire, no falls yet.

I’m still rocking this diet, it’s Day 12 WP peeps.

 


Vegetables taste like ass

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So for me to regain a normal relationship to and with food again,  I need to eat in a very specific way.  My meal plan requires 3 weighed and measured meals per day.   No flour, no sugar or artificial sweeteners, nothing in between meals except for water.   The amounts of protein and vegetables are the same at every meal.

I cannot have starchy vegetables like potatoes, corn, squash, peas.   Rather it must be non-starchy veggies like spinach, green beans, broccoli, or asparagus for example.

Did I mention that I hate most non-starchy vegetables?

Also, in relapse I would binge on sugar, fat, starchy food combos in calorie amounts that would leave most people ready to hurl.

Why? It was never about eating for satiety anymore than the alcoholic was drinking for thirst.  It was for the effects.  The why of how it hit my brain and made everything right as rain? I’m not exactly sure. There is a science to it and it has to do with a neurotransmitter called dopamine being released after a huge binge of those high calorie high fat/sugar foods.  But I’m not a scientist.

All I know is that taking away yummy binge foods, causes not only a physical withdrawal but also a mental obsession about them.

My brain has had enough of a ride on the tasteless vegetable train of hell and it’s only been 3 days.

You’ll get used to the vegetables, they said. It’s good for you,  they said.  You’ll feel better in no time, they said.

“I’d pick binging on a big ass plate of Brussels sprouts over cake, said no one ever,” I said.

Time to pray again….


The ruler

Nearly every morning for as long as I can remember, I have stepped on a scale to measure how much I weigh.

and the number that is displayed ends up dictating my self-worth.

Strange I know, that a number should have that sort of power over me.

I have friends whose net worth equals their self-worth and I often tell them, that they are so much more beyond their possessions, their material things.

I preach about how the intangibles in life:  health, family and good friends have the most value.

But I feel like a charlatan, because there I am allowing a scale to control me.

****

Most days, in one way or another I am obsessing about food.  How to avoid it or how to get rid of it.  Food is on my mind in a really screwed up way.

Devising ways I won’t binge.  Getting rid of food that I consumed if I do.  Wishing I could eat and then feeling guilty for wanting to.  Feeling really good when I am not eating.  Feeling in control, clean, like the world is right.  Figuring out calorie exchanges.  Feeling desperate and despairing when I am in the food.  Feeling bad, dirty, out of control, ashamed, like nothing will ever be right again.

It’s insanity.

I wonder what it’s like to be normal.

****

Then when I am out in the world I am constantly looking at other women.   Comparing myself to every woman I see and how I measure up.

But I never do, as the case usually is.

How my outsides are not good enough.

The obsession is so gripping and powerful.

I hate it.

I don’t know life any other way.   My crazy thoughts are all I’ve ever known.

****

Why must this blasted scale be the ruler, a way to measure if I am good or bad? If my day will be a good one or a bad once based on the number that I see.   I have been this way since I was around 13 years old.

I am fortunate that I have only been hospitalized once for this.  The eating disorder itself has morphed over the years.   From anorexia in adolescence to bulimerexia by my twenties.  Somewhere in between I had picked up a new thing this CHSP, Chewing and spitting my food out.

I have never known life with a healthy reltionship to food.

I have extreme body dysmorphia.   The mirror still is my enemy.  No matter what other people see, when I look in the mirror I see every flaw, imperfection, amplified ten thousand times.  Be it cellulite or acne, a hair out of place.   I remember changing outfits  several times because everything just looked bad.  I looked bad.  This makes me want to just isolate.  Which I often do.

Its not to do with being a vain person.  It’s  to do with feeling so inadequate and disgusting that I can’t stand how I look. When I look into the mirror it’s like a fun house mirror which distorts how I look to me.  I’m not sure if it’s neurological or what,  but it makes me see things that others don’t.

Every eating plan I get on is a struggle because my perfectionist ways interfere and if I deviate from the plan, it sends me into a spiral.  I can teeter into punitive self-punishing behaviors.

The only other thing about having an eating disorder is the shame and isolation that keeps me silent about it.   It’s painful.

Some days are better than others.   I want to believe that one day I will find acceptance with my outsides.  I have a hunch it has a lot to do with my trauma past.    I probably need to tell Lee about this too.  Just one more thing to work on….

Some days it just feels hopeless.

 


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