https://www.amazon.com/Binge-Code-Unconventional-Eating-Excess-ebook/dp/B073HDB6ZN
This is what I am currently reading. I am loving it so far.
When you order it on Amazon you also get a link to some other content, guided meditations and such. I have not tried them out yet, but this book makes sense so far, and is quite encouraging and hopeful. The author is recovering from Bulimia, so she has been there.
Thursday, April 30, 2020
Prozac: an update and a dream
I’ve only taken 3 doses of Prozac so far. If you look online you will read that it takes 2-3 weeks for it to work. I can tell you that is BS because, 1) online it will also tell you about symptoms you may experience as your body adapts to the drug during the first 2 weeks, so clearly your body knows it is there and 2) I am feeling the effects already. And no, these aren’t placebo effects.
Day 2: Tuesday, I felt the teeniest bit nauseous, and incredibly fatigued. While trying to watch the governor’s corona virus update at 4 pm, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I also felt freezing cold. I tend to get cold when I am sleepy, but I needed 2 shirts, 2 blankets, and my dog cuddling me before I felt warm again. (At one point I was terrified it was coved-19!). I don’t think the freezing part was due to the Prozac, but who knows? I went to bed by 5 pm and only got up at 8:30 for a quick dinner. (A small grilled chicken breast and a roll.) I did not binge that day.
Day 3: Wednesday, a bit more nausea, but manageable. My hunger existed, but behind a wall kind of. The nausea was in front, the hunger behind. It seemed like I could eat to assuage the hunger, but not binge, because that would trigger the nausea. I did not feel fatigue or cold. I did feel...tingly. That’s the only way to describe it. A heightened awareness of something? More focused and peaceful? Like the beginning of being buzzed? It was pleasant. I made mostly healthy choices, did have more cookies than intended, so I will call that a binge.
Today is Day 4 and I haven’t even dosed yet. I do not feel nausea. I do feel the tingles, but not as prominent as yesterday. I’ve been having intense dreams, which is a known side effect of Prozac. My dreams are all over the place but the effect they have is making me see myself with honesty and compassion.
For example: I dreamt that I was headed for a job interview. I wanted the job, but was also ambivalent about it. The interview had been arranged by an old friend/flame of mine from college. Some girls I went to high school with also worked there. I could tell that I was being evaluated during the interview, but everyone was jovial and passing around cookies and coffee. I was relaxed, myself. I had one or two of the cookies too. The old flame came in, and it was clear that he had charmed all of the ladies in the office. I gently teased him about it, and I don’t think it went over well. The first part of the interview was abruptly over. The next candidate was there. I was due to come back later in the afternoon for a question and answer period but one of my high school friends told me that she thought, “it was a negative” that I wouldn’t be hired. She didn’t know, or wouldn’t say, why. She asked me if I was going to come back for the question and answer period, knowing that I wasn’t going to be hired. Part of me wanted to go, to change their minds! I was obviously the best choice! Part of me looked at myself in a mirror and thought my appearance was disgusting and that was the reason, that, or the cookies I’d eaten, or the joke with my ex, or my laid back attitude, .basically I was TEARING myself apart. I was analyzing the other candidate and comparing myself to her, favorably and unfavorably. Then, I realized that I had an event scheduled that had a lot of meaning to me. I would have to skip it if I went to the second half of the interview. I STILL felt compelled to go to the interview to “prove” something, even though I realized that I didn’t really want to work there because it would always make me feel insecure, even though I knew they had already decided against me. My pride wanted me to go to “make a point” while my heart just wanted to go do the event it had planned.
How many times have I gotten caught up in wanting to make a point, wanting to prove I’m good enough, in order to feed my ego, instead of just doing what my heart and soul really wants to do? Many times I think. Many times I have gone along with things that I was ambivalent about because they were tied to my ego, not my essence. I doubt that I am unique in this, but wow, how mean I was to myself in the dream, when I found out the didn’t want me! So brutal.
I really need to stop brutalizing myself.
So, yes, I am feeling confident and encouraged about the Prozac so far!
Day 2: Tuesday, I felt the teeniest bit nauseous, and incredibly fatigued. While trying to watch the governor’s corona virus update at 4 pm, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I also felt freezing cold. I tend to get cold when I am sleepy, but I needed 2 shirts, 2 blankets, and my dog cuddling me before I felt warm again. (At one point I was terrified it was coved-19!). I don’t think the freezing part was due to the Prozac, but who knows? I went to bed by 5 pm and only got up at 8:30 for a quick dinner. (A small grilled chicken breast and a roll.) I did not binge that day.
Day 3: Wednesday, a bit more nausea, but manageable. My hunger existed, but behind a wall kind of. The nausea was in front, the hunger behind. It seemed like I could eat to assuage the hunger, but not binge, because that would trigger the nausea. I did not feel fatigue or cold. I did feel...tingly. That’s the only way to describe it. A heightened awareness of something? More focused and peaceful? Like the beginning of being buzzed? It was pleasant. I made mostly healthy choices, did have more cookies than intended, so I will call that a binge.
Today is Day 4 and I haven’t even dosed yet. I do not feel nausea. I do feel the tingles, but not as prominent as yesterday. I’ve been having intense dreams, which is a known side effect of Prozac. My dreams are all over the place but the effect they have is making me see myself with honesty and compassion.
For example: I dreamt that I was headed for a job interview. I wanted the job, but was also ambivalent about it. The interview had been arranged by an old friend/flame of mine from college. Some girls I went to high school with also worked there. I could tell that I was being evaluated during the interview, but everyone was jovial and passing around cookies and coffee. I was relaxed, myself. I had one or two of the cookies too. The old flame came in, and it was clear that he had charmed all of the ladies in the office. I gently teased him about it, and I don’t think it went over well. The first part of the interview was abruptly over. The next candidate was there. I was due to come back later in the afternoon for a question and answer period but one of my high school friends told me that she thought, “it was a negative” that I wouldn’t be hired. She didn’t know, or wouldn’t say, why. She asked me if I was going to come back for the question and answer period, knowing that I wasn’t going to be hired. Part of me wanted to go, to change their minds! I was obviously the best choice! Part of me looked at myself in a mirror and thought my appearance was disgusting and that was the reason, that, or the cookies I’d eaten, or the joke with my ex, or my laid back attitude, .basically I was TEARING myself apart. I was analyzing the other candidate and comparing myself to her, favorably and unfavorably. Then, I realized that I had an event scheduled that had a lot of meaning to me. I would have to skip it if I went to the second half of the interview. I STILL felt compelled to go to the interview to “prove” something, even though I realized that I didn’t really want to work there because it would always make me feel insecure, even though I knew they had already decided against me. My pride wanted me to go to “make a point” while my heart just wanted to go do the event it had planned.
How many times have I gotten caught up in wanting to make a point, wanting to prove I’m good enough, in order to feed my ego, instead of just doing what my heart and soul really wants to do? Many times I think. Many times I have gone along with things that I was ambivalent about because they were tied to my ego, not my essence. I doubt that I am unique in this, but wow, how mean I was to myself in the dream, when I found out the didn’t want me! So brutal.
I really need to stop brutalizing myself.
So, yes, I am feeling confident and encouraged about the Prozac so far!
Monday, April 27, 2020
Happy Birthday to me!
I had my physical today. Yes, it is my birthday too. I scheduled this physical way back when the world was normal. Back then figured that I would take my birthday off from work anyway so why not get a physical done the same day. Who knew all of this corona virus stuff would happen?!
I woke up to a beautiful bouquet of flowers and lovely mermaid theme decorations! I Count my blessings every day! I am so loved!
I woke up to a beautiful bouquet of flowers and lovely mermaid theme decorations! I Count my blessings every day! I am so loved!
After the flowers and kisses and hugs it was off to the Dr. I’d been dreading it AND excited for it.
Honestly, I would have canceled it if this problem with binging hadn’t reared its ugly head right now. It was a little creepy. I wore a mask, the door was opened for me and I was handed gloves. My temp was taken and written on a little post it. I needed that post it to be allowed onto the elevator.
Upstairs, I had to talk loud enough to be heard through glass and masks to check in.
I had been worried that the Dr. would have little time for my bullshit. “Stop whining and stop stuffing yourself!” is what I imagined. I couldn’t have been more wrong! She was so compassionate and wonderful! I love her because she manages to be compassionate and matter of fact at the same time.
She wasn’t worried about my 23 lb wt gain. Especially since my BP was 120/80 (best it’s ever ever ever been-something to be said for not working!). She absolutely wants me to get counseling. She absolutely positively wants to support me with medication.
She said that she thinks that for me the binging is a symptom of something deeper, something that also causes depression and anxiety. She said to check with my insurance and find someone who does tele-health visits for counseling. She also suggested online support groups. She asked me to commit to 20 minutes of exercise, 3 times a week, PLUS whatever yoga I want to do. She knows that I am already using a food journal intended for binge eating recovery. She is happy that I am blogging too.
The approved medication for B.E.D. is called Vyvanse. It’s a stimulant though and contraindicated for high bp even when well controlled. It is also a controlled substance and I’d need labs every 2 weeks, etc. This being “corona time” she didn’t think it would be a good idea to start me on that anyway. She decided on 20 mg Prozac. It is known to help with both depression and to help with binging. It is not known to cause weight gain like other SSRI’s . She promised to call me weekly and check on how I am doing.
I am incredibly relieved to have the medication to help me. I am incredibly grateful for my wonderful physician!
I took my first dose today, and will update on symptoms, etc, as time goes on.
Now it’s time to celebrate!
Friday, April 24, 2020
An Example of “Stinkin’ Thinkin”
When I was growing up my dad always had some motivational book around. One was by Zig Ziglar, and that’s where I first heard the term “Stinkin’ Thinkin’.” The following is an example:
On the outside, it looks like I had a decent day today. I did a few blog posts, did some yoga, facilitated a nice conversation between my daughter and husband, got some loving feedback from friends...and more!
On the inside I’m a WRECK. When my daughter and I went for a quick drive to ensure the car would still start she wanted to go to visit her campus. Reasonable that she’d miss it. As we got further away from home it was all I could do to contain my panic. I was terrified that we might get into an accident and I’d be seen...and exposed to COVID-19 too.
Worse than that though, thoughts are spinning around in my mind about my upcoming Dr. appointment. The weigh in. Explaining the weight gain. Talking about my binges and asking for help. Thinking that my Dr. will think, “I’ve got people suffering and dying from corona virus and this one can’t stop eating !?” “Kids, people, are starving in this state and in this world, and this one won’t stop eating cookies?!”
I feel RIDICULOUS. I feel like I’m “making a mountain out of a molehill.” I should just go back on WW and stop WHINING!
I know that there is no way my Dr is going to think like that, I wouldn’t like her as a Dr if she’d ever made me feel that way. It’s just Stinkin’ Thinkin’ but it’s filling me with anxiety, dread, and...1/2 a bag of cookies. Ugh.
A Schedule
So, I still feel a bit overwhelmed, like I’m wandering around without a map.
I know I need professional help, but, I am waiting til my physical on Monday to discuss this with my primary care physician. I know there are medications that can help me. I trust her to know which medication would be best for me and to direct me to resources that she is familiar and comfortable with.
In the meantime I decided that a way to alleviate some of the guilt and shame I feel every time I eat anything, anytime I feel hunger, is to to give myself a schedule. I literally almost typed “ a feeding schedule,” as if I were an animal. I also have been using the RR Eating Disorder App. It’s okay, a little clunky for me to use so far, but, it’s something. I am trying to not be super controlling and set myself up for failure so, I think I will tell myself that I am allowed to eat at unscheduled times if I feel hungry to do so.
Hunger. I feel so hungry so often. It makes me feel ashamed. Why do I have to be “a girl with a big appetite?
Yoga
I find my body to be so sore sometimes, so stiff. Sure, I’m about to turn 54 and I have led a mostly sedentary life, but, I think the stiffness and soreness is partially mood related, particularly my body being cranky about how lousy I treat it.
Yoga helps this for me. It makes my muscles tingle and feel important and cared for. It makes me feel proud of myself for doing something. It helps me feel like “I” am residing IN my body, instead of elsewhere...like I actually feel like the thing I call “me” is located in my body.
That may seem strange to some, but, from my reading I see that it’s not uncommon among those of us with an eating disorder. We often do not feel like we reside in our own bodies! We are disconnected. We have a mental image of our body that doesn’t even sync up with the reality of our body. Sometimes, we think of ourself as much closer to “normal” than we really are, that’s to say, an idealized version of what we think is socially acceptable. Those times are what get us in trouble when we look in a mirror or see ourselves in a photo, because what we see does not match our own inner picture. It leads to shame and binging.
Sometimes, however, the opposite is true too. Sometimes we think we are much bigger than we really are. The shame is raging during these times.
Basically, for me, I float between these two states of being. Often I see another woman who is also overweight and I ask whoever I’m with if I am the same size. I legitimately don’t know. I am really asking because I have no idea. Often the response is, “No way!” Because, of course, it’s “wrong” to tell a woman, especially one you care about, exactly what size she is. I don’t know why I ask sometimes, because I don’t really ever trust the answer, but sometimes it feels good to get a compliment, even if it isn’t sincere. I don’t ask for the compliment though, I ask out of legitimate confusion.
We all have “ problem areas.” Things we don’t like about our appearance. Some can be changed and others not. One of the things I don’t like is my hanging tummy. It causes me actual trouble and shame. I don’t care if it’s an artifact of my pregnancy (something I am proud of having accomplished/experienced) or not. I often fantasize about having it surgically removed. When I am doing yoga, however, even when that bubble of shameful skin physically gets in the way of a pose, I feel compassion for my body. For my belly. I breathe into it. Or, more to the point, I allow breath into it. I allow it to exist without hatred. It feels nice in that moment to do so.
I’d love to be able to carry that belly acceptance with me all of the time.
Yoga helps this for me. It makes my muscles tingle and feel important and cared for. It makes me feel proud of myself for doing something. It helps me feel like “I” am residing IN my body, instead of elsewhere...like I actually feel like the thing I call “me” is located in my body.
That may seem strange to some, but, from my reading I see that it’s not uncommon among those of us with an eating disorder. We often do not feel like we reside in our own bodies! We are disconnected. We have a mental image of our body that doesn’t even sync up with the reality of our body. Sometimes, we think of ourself as much closer to “normal” than we really are, that’s to say, an idealized version of what we think is socially acceptable. Those times are what get us in trouble when we look in a mirror or see ourselves in a photo, because what we see does not match our own inner picture. It leads to shame and binging.
Sometimes, however, the opposite is true too. Sometimes we think we are much bigger than we really are. The shame is raging during these times.
Basically, for me, I float between these two states of being. Often I see another woman who is also overweight and I ask whoever I’m with if I am the same size. I legitimately don’t know. I am really asking because I have no idea. Often the response is, “No way!” Because, of course, it’s “wrong” to tell a woman, especially one you care about, exactly what size she is. I don’t know why I ask sometimes, because I don’t really ever trust the answer, but sometimes it feels good to get a compliment, even if it isn’t sincere. I don’t ask for the compliment though, I ask out of legitimate confusion.
We all have “ problem areas.” Things we don’t like about our appearance. Some can be changed and others not. One of the things I don’t like is my hanging tummy. It causes me actual trouble and shame. I don’t care if it’s an artifact of my pregnancy (something I am proud of having accomplished/experienced) or not. I often fantasize about having it surgically removed. When I am doing yoga, however, even when that bubble of shameful skin physically gets in the way of a pose, I feel compassion for my body. For my belly. I breathe into it. Or, more to the point, I allow breath into it. I allow it to exist without hatred. It feels nice in that moment to do so.
I’d love to be able to carry that belly acceptance with me all of the time.
Thursday, April 23, 2020
Support
When I burst into tears watching one of the new Walmart COVID-19 themed commercials the other night (because it’s all so overwhelming, what our world is going through and I’m damned emotional about trying to face the crisis that is my body and my eating) my husband got up from the loveseat and bent over me to hold me while I cried. “I got you!” He said. He is a blessing in my life!
When my husband went out for groceries one day I caught myself standing in the middle of the kitchen shoving potato chips into my mouth so fast that they were spilling onto the floor. The night before I had baked brownies for “the family” while they were in the living room and I snuck a muffin into my mouth in 2 bites while stirring the batter. When it dawned on me that I need to address what was going on with me I spoke with two of my closest friends first.
One friend already knew I had an eating disorder. We had met in our 20’s at an O.A. meeting. Overeater’s Anonymous. We didn’t stay very long, we left to go out to a bar and dance, meet guys, and all that stuff that 20 somethings do. We couldn’t stand what we felt was whining by the older women in the group. I’m conscious of that type of whining in myself to this day, about how hard it all is. I have no patience for it in myself, even though I catch myself doing it. Telling her was important though, it was as if admitting it to myself wasn’t enough, because I could still hide it if I chose to. Telling her helped me because she immediately understood and supported me 1,000%. She made me laugh, a lot! Made me feel that this is all SO important but also helped me to laugh at myself in a deeply compassionate way. When I told her I was going to start a blog she thought maybe I should call it, “Chonky!” Maybe that will be the title of my memoir if I ever write one!
The other friend expressed feeling honored that I opened up to her about this, for the first time in a 20+ year friendship. Her reaction was so compassionate and empathetic that it strengthened me! I didn’t feel so deeply ashamed. Because of her I felt such a warm loving acceptance that it gave me courage to talk to my husband about it.
I don’t think my husband fully understands “eating disorder” but I know he loves me and wants to support me. He just wants to help. I am incredibly fortunate to have his love and support. There was a time when I was single that I believed, I think, that if I only had someone who loved me fully, totally, unconditionally, that it would “heal” me. I have that now, have had it, and yet, I am not healed. It is wonderful to be loved and to have a support group, and I’m deeply grateful! I doubt that I could do any of this, face this, without all of their love and support! I hate “ being a burden” though. I hate “being dramatic.” I hate “making it all about me.” I will save the explanation of why I hate those things for another post.
The problem is that there is one person who doesn’t fully love me unconditionally, one person who does not fully support me, one person who is hyper critical of me, and it turns out she’s the only one that matters. Me.
When my husband went out for groceries one day I caught myself standing in the middle of the kitchen shoving potato chips into my mouth so fast that they were spilling onto the floor. The night before I had baked brownies for “the family” while they were in the living room and I snuck a muffin into my mouth in 2 bites while stirring the batter. When it dawned on me that I need to address what was going on with me I spoke with two of my closest friends first.
One friend already knew I had an eating disorder. We had met in our 20’s at an O.A. meeting. Overeater’s Anonymous. We didn’t stay very long, we left to go out to a bar and dance, meet guys, and all that stuff that 20 somethings do. We couldn’t stand what we felt was whining by the older women in the group. I’m conscious of that type of whining in myself to this day, about how hard it all is. I have no patience for it in myself, even though I catch myself doing it. Telling her was important though, it was as if admitting it to myself wasn’t enough, because I could still hide it if I chose to. Telling her helped me because she immediately understood and supported me 1,000%. She made me laugh, a lot! Made me feel that this is all SO important but also helped me to laugh at myself in a deeply compassionate way. When I told her I was going to start a blog she thought maybe I should call it, “Chonky!” Maybe that will be the title of my memoir if I ever write one!
The other friend expressed feeling honored that I opened up to her about this, for the first time in a 20+ year friendship. Her reaction was so compassionate and empathetic that it strengthened me! I didn’t feel so deeply ashamed. Because of her I felt such a warm loving acceptance that it gave me courage to talk to my husband about it.
I don’t think my husband fully understands “eating disorder” but I know he loves me and wants to support me. He just wants to help. I am incredibly fortunate to have his love and support. There was a time when I was single that I believed, I think, that if I only had someone who loved me fully, totally, unconditionally, that it would “heal” me. I have that now, have had it, and yet, I am not healed. It is wonderful to be loved and to have a support group, and I’m deeply grateful! I doubt that I could do any of this, face this, without all of their love and support! I hate “ being a burden” though. I hate “being dramatic.” I hate “making it all about me.” I will save the explanation of why I hate those things for another post.
The problem is that there is one person who doesn’t fully love me unconditionally, one person who does not fully support me, one person who is hyper critical of me, and it turns out she’s the only one that matters. Me.
Wednesday, April 22, 2020
On being overwhelmed
When I decided to use my “corona time” to work toward actually dealing with my life long eating disorder I turned to the internet. I came across SO much information, so many blogs, so many books!
Where to start?! I closed my browser and binged.
First, I should talk a bit about my “cycle” and how I came to this decision.
My most recent weight loss endeavor was WW, and I lost about 30 lbs before I plateaued. The plateaus are the beginning of the end for me. I get MUCH stricter, I exercise a LOT more, and when the scale doesn’t budge, and it does not budge, my discouragement and frustration leads to some version of this thought, “If I’m not going to lose any weight why am I even on this diet?!” So I have a cookie here, a slice of pizza there...it’s always a slippery slope that ends in me glomming onto binge foods and eating them in secret.
Currently my weight is almost back to where I began. I weigh myself frequently, if not daily. When dieting, I weigh myself daily. It’s almost like a religious experience. I awaken, I pee, I remove my clothes, I am excited and nervous. I step on the scale, a supplicant awaiting judgement. The unspoken question is if I was good enough the day before to get rewarded with a weight loss. My mood ABSOLUTELY depends on the scale god’s judgement. Rationally I am not actually thinking any of that, but that is what it seems like now that I’ve stepped back and analyzed it.
So here I was, at home day after day due to the lockdown and “having” to eat with my family around. I live with my husband and college age daughter. Snacks and treats and stress galore. At first we didn’t know how long it would take our unemployment to kick in, if we would have health insurance, or even if one of us had already been infected. Congress hadn’t even passed the stimulus package yet. So, super stressful.
My daughter does her own thing with food (this is another whole eating disorder story that I will touch on in a different post) but my husband is romantic and likes to eat with me, and to cook for me. Which I appreciate because, I don’t enjoy cooking that much. (Again, I will I elaborate on this at another time).
As sweet as it is that my hubby likes to take care of me in this way, I noticed that he always serves me smaller portions than I’d have served myself. He also is one to skip breakfast and not eat lunch til 2:30-3:00 pm. He wants to eat dinner at 8:30 ish and then snacks at night. I, on the other hand, do a breakfast around 6:30 am, a 10:30 snack, a 12:30-1:00 lunch, maybe a 3:00 pick me up, and I’m ravenous for dinner by 6:30 latest. Then I want a snack before bed! When we were both working, it was easy to accommodate my own rhythm because, as a restaurant manager he wasn’t usually home during my dinner time. Being home together for a long stretch of time, and his desire to sync our eating to be romantic, really threw my issues with eating into the forefront! To me anyway!
When we’d get up and have coffee, I’d offer him breakfast and he’d refuse. I can not skip breakfast at all, so I’d eat. But, I’d end up feeling guilty, like a pig, since I needed to eat when he didn’t.
I’d have breakfast and a snack and be ready for lunch, and he hadn’t even eaten anything yet! That did things to me, very bad things. I started getting up early just to eat before he got up. I started sneaking food. I was binging a lot! Shoving chips and/or cookies in secretly whenever he wasn’t around. My dog would eat whatever missed my mouth.
I’d wake up and feel fatter. I felt like a big, ugly, gross, failure.
My sister was using her lockdown time to learn a new language! Someone else I knew was taking a course online! I “knew” others would come out of quarantine thinner, more fit, prettier. Not me though, I was dealing with this weird stress acne around my lips and I “knew” I was going to come out fatter. I imagined I’d be secretly a laughing stock. “Why didn’t she use this time to get healthier” everyone would wonder. What a waste of time. What a waste.
Thankfully I read an article on how we don’t have to use the pandemic time to be productive. So that helped, but, I wanted to be productive. I wanted to FINALLY lose weight and exercise and come out of lockdown thinner and prettier! I wanted the congratulations and compliments! I just couldn’t stop binging. Could. Not. Stop.
Somehow, my brain realized that my sweetheart husband wasn’t even noticing when or what I ate, and definitely wasn’t judging me. I realized the problem was all me. I realized that for many, many years I’d thought I was managing my B. E. D. but in reality I was only yo-yo dieting. Keto, Atkins, WW, intermittent fasting, vegetarianism, Optifast... these diets had all been successful. Successful in helping me mitigate some of the weight gain from my binges.
According to the book I ended up choosing as a starting place, “The Diet Survivor’s Handbook” by Judith Matz, LCSW and Ellen Frankel, LCSW, these diets were just part of the disorder, not at all a solution.
I purchased the book on my kindle, and felt so overwhelmed that it took a full week until I could even begin to read it.
Where to start?! I closed my browser and binged.
First, I should talk a bit about my “cycle” and how I came to this decision.
My most recent weight loss endeavor was WW, and I lost about 30 lbs before I plateaued. The plateaus are the beginning of the end for me. I get MUCH stricter, I exercise a LOT more, and when the scale doesn’t budge, and it does not budge, my discouragement and frustration leads to some version of this thought, “If I’m not going to lose any weight why am I even on this diet?!” So I have a cookie here, a slice of pizza there...it’s always a slippery slope that ends in me glomming onto binge foods and eating them in secret.
Currently my weight is almost back to where I began. I weigh myself frequently, if not daily. When dieting, I weigh myself daily. It’s almost like a religious experience. I awaken, I pee, I remove my clothes, I am excited and nervous. I step on the scale, a supplicant awaiting judgement. The unspoken question is if I was good enough the day before to get rewarded with a weight loss. My mood ABSOLUTELY depends on the scale god’s judgement. Rationally I am not actually thinking any of that, but that is what it seems like now that I’ve stepped back and analyzed it.
So here I was, at home day after day due to the lockdown and “having” to eat with my family around. I live with my husband and college age daughter. Snacks and treats and stress galore. At first we didn’t know how long it would take our unemployment to kick in, if we would have health insurance, or even if one of us had already been infected. Congress hadn’t even passed the stimulus package yet. So, super stressful.
My daughter does her own thing with food (this is another whole eating disorder story that I will touch on in a different post) but my husband is romantic and likes to eat with me, and to cook for me. Which I appreciate because, I don’t enjoy cooking that much. (Again, I will I elaborate on this at another time).
As sweet as it is that my hubby likes to take care of me in this way, I noticed that he always serves me smaller portions than I’d have served myself. He also is one to skip breakfast and not eat lunch til 2:30-3:00 pm. He wants to eat dinner at 8:30 ish and then snacks at night. I, on the other hand, do a breakfast around 6:30 am, a 10:30 snack, a 12:30-1:00 lunch, maybe a 3:00 pick me up, and I’m ravenous for dinner by 6:30 latest. Then I want a snack before bed! When we were both working, it was easy to accommodate my own rhythm because, as a restaurant manager he wasn’t usually home during my dinner time. Being home together for a long stretch of time, and his desire to sync our eating to be romantic, really threw my issues with eating into the forefront! To me anyway!
When we’d get up and have coffee, I’d offer him breakfast and he’d refuse. I can not skip breakfast at all, so I’d eat. But, I’d end up feeling guilty, like a pig, since I needed to eat when he didn’t.
I’d have breakfast and a snack and be ready for lunch, and he hadn’t even eaten anything yet! That did things to me, very bad things. I started getting up early just to eat before he got up. I started sneaking food. I was binging a lot! Shoving chips and/or cookies in secretly whenever he wasn’t around. My dog would eat whatever missed my mouth.
I’d wake up and feel fatter. I felt like a big, ugly, gross, failure.
My sister was using her lockdown time to learn a new language! Someone else I knew was taking a course online! I “knew” others would come out of quarantine thinner, more fit, prettier. Not me though, I was dealing with this weird stress acne around my lips and I “knew” I was going to come out fatter. I imagined I’d be secretly a laughing stock. “Why didn’t she use this time to get healthier” everyone would wonder. What a waste of time. What a waste.
Thankfully I read an article on how we don’t have to use the pandemic time to be productive. So that helped, but, I wanted to be productive. I wanted to FINALLY lose weight and exercise and come out of lockdown thinner and prettier! I wanted the congratulations and compliments! I just couldn’t stop binging. Could. Not. Stop.
Somehow, my brain realized that my sweetheart husband wasn’t even noticing when or what I ate, and definitely wasn’t judging me. I realized the problem was all me. I realized that for many, many years I’d thought I was managing my B. E. D. but in reality I was only yo-yo dieting. Keto, Atkins, WW, intermittent fasting, vegetarianism, Optifast... these diets had all been successful. Successful in helping me mitigate some of the weight gain from my binges.
According to the book I ended up choosing as a starting place, “The Diet Survivor’s Handbook” by Judith Matz, LCSW and Ellen Frankel, LCSW, these diets were just part of the disorder, not at all a solution.
I purchased the book on my kindle, and felt so overwhelmed that it took a full week until I could even begin to read it.
Hi.
Welcome to my blog, Guiltless Gaia, where I intend to discuss my ongoing journey toward wellness.
Like many around the globe I’m in lockdown due to the COVID-19 pandemic and I find myself unable to continue ignoring my binging and my tendency to hide what and how much I’m eating. Ignoring that stuff and yo-yo dieting has been my way of “managing” my eating disorder for years.
I’m furloughed, able to collect unemployment, and my employer has been generously paying for my health insurance. I’m privileged, and grateful! Yet, privilege doesn’t exempt one from suffering from B.E.D. Nor does it exempt me from feeling GUILTY that I overeat and binge when so many are dealing with hunger.
I feel like if I’m ever going to confront this and work toward recovery it is now.
GUILT and it’s companion, SHAME, live inside of me, twin antagonists, torturing me, making me insecure, unsure, and ultimately, hungry in a way food has never satisfied, can’t ever satisfy.
That’s where the “ guiltless” in the title comes from. Guiltless is a goal! I think, quite possibly THE goal for me as I move forward.
My plan is to share myself journal style, and to link or mention any and all of the resources that help me along the way.
My hope is that something here will resonate and help even one other person.
💕
Like many around the globe I’m in lockdown due to the COVID-19 pandemic and I find myself unable to continue ignoring my binging and my tendency to hide what and how much I’m eating. Ignoring that stuff and yo-yo dieting has been my way of “managing” my eating disorder for years.
I’m furloughed, able to collect unemployment, and my employer has been generously paying for my health insurance. I’m privileged, and grateful! Yet, privilege doesn’t exempt one from suffering from B.E.D. Nor does it exempt me from feeling GUILTY that I overeat and binge when so many are dealing with hunger.
I feel like if I’m ever going to confront this and work toward recovery it is now.
GUILT and it’s companion, SHAME, live inside of me, twin antagonists, torturing me, making me insecure, unsure, and ultimately, hungry in a way food has never satisfied, can’t ever satisfy.
That’s where the “ guiltless” in the title comes from. Guiltless is a goal! I think, quite possibly THE goal for me as I move forward.
My plan is to share myself journal style, and to link or mention any and all of the resources that help me along the way.
My hope is that something here will resonate and help even one other person.
💕
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