Tag Archives: eating disorder

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

 


My libido must be hiding behind the couch

Sigh.

It’s official.

I’ve lost my sex drive and my faith in one fell swoop.

I think it’s the fucking Prozac.

or maybe the depression….

hell, maybe both.

I get down on my knees in the morning and say a prayer but there’s a disconnect.

In yesteryear I always I felt a strong connection with God in my life.  It was an awesome feeling.  I never felt alone,

no matter what kind of monkeyshit life was throwing at me.

This is the worst.   Such a painful horrible void.  I miss that relationship so much.

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Life’s pleasures are slowly being whittled away one by one.

These days, I am not supposed to drink alcohol, binge eat/starve and to top it off I have absolutely no libido.

It’s like some thief in the night stole it from me.  The girl who used to having sex at least 5 times a day,

Doesn’t even care if she ever has it again?

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Sigh.  Me thinks it’s because I’m taking the Prozac.  Manufacturers insert reads:   “It is thought that the action of this medication is….”

So the powers that be, don’t even fucking KNOW what this shit does to my neural network? they are simply extrapolating from looking at

a bunch of rats?

‘Cause gosh rats and humans are ever so similar….

****

Hmmmm….. well that rat is chewing off it’s own tail….so people might get suicidal on this drug.

That rat is agressively biting the fuck out of the other rat…….homocial.

This one is bouncing off the cage…….irritability

This one doesn’t sleep…….insomnia

And when the rats stop screwing each other?

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Guess that’s me.

*****

I’m getting off these pills.


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