I’ve been through a lot. Some things have changed a lot. Some things remain the same. I’m writing this with the full knowledge that it may sound angsty and melodramatic. I’m hoping it doesn’t. This is what I’m dealing with now, and I’m at a loss.
More and more I realize why I binge.
I started binge-ing in middle school, after school when I got home. It was a way to soothe boredom and hunger, but also it was the way to comfort myself after being bullied and feeling alone. I didn’t have the words or comprehension then for why I binged, but it was deeper than boredom. It was the soother for the sadness I felt about not feeling included.
I’m 22 now, but I carry this with me still…this empty aching feeling of aloneness in my chest. For a while, it turned into absolute apathy, where I no longer cared about what anyone thought or how I looked, and I actually lost weight from not eating. I wouldn’t go back there.
Now I’ve healed a little and changed a little, but old habits die hard. I still am eating to momentarily dull the ache of feeling empty. I’m not overweight. I don’t binge on thousands of calories. I eat relatively healthy. But my eating habits are not healthy. They are obsessive and controlled or uncontrolled, and I don’t know how to fix it.
I still feel alone.
I don’t know how to change, or how else to dull the ache without resorting to food.
(this may be triggering)
…and I want so badly to stop it…her. She’s in middle school and in the first throes of anorexia, and she’s such a wonderful, beautiful girl, and there’s nothing I can do. I want to share with her my road and how every day is hard, but you have to fight against the voices in your head and the disordered eating and not eating. I wish I could love her body for her.
That I will never get better. That I will never get rid of this, whatever it is. I’m scared and I feel like a giant waste of person. I giant puddle of self pity. This shortness of breath never goes away. I hate myself. I feel like a 21 year old has been. What good is therapy doing, when this is physical?
I have to believe there’s something beyond this life, because I don’t think I could stand it much longer if there was not.
I’m realizing more and more that I make opinions based on how other people feel over how I feel. If I think people like something, I will often talk in favor of it. Not the really important things, but little things that don’t matter—music, movies, public opinion.
I realized this evening that my back was sore from anxiety.
If people with serious eating disorders can live happy lives without always being in treatment, than I should be able to live a happy life too.
I’m scared of the future. I’m scared that I will amount to nothing. I’m scared that I will be found out. And then I think that’s ridiculous…what would people find?
An obsessive-compulsive, naive, fat, selfish drama queen without real talent?
What is the rock bottom for me? What could people possibly find in my worst nightmare that could make me feel so awful? What am I worried about?
and I have to pack lunch every day, so don’t fucking tell me you don’t have time to eat healthy. You do. If you suddenly found that everything you ate outside of your house hurt you, then you would make time.
It’s a life choice. Make it.
<3”tough love” Elle
I’m an extreme person. So when I make a mistake, all of a sudden my mind goes, WELL IT’S ALL OUT THE WINDOW. MIGHT AS WELL FUCK UP MORE.
But now I’m at the point where when I do that I actually hurt my body. Like trouble breathing, stomach pains, sick for days hurt.
And I’m realizing that I can’t be extreme like that.
I’m also realizing that eating a cookie won’t kill me. And most of all, if I gain weight, I CAN lose it. I think I partially restricted because I was so scared that I would keep gaining and gaining until I was hideous. But that’s not happened. And I lost weight before as well…so it’s not like I’m impervious to weight loss.
I’m at a point right now where I’m learning to be thankful for where my body is at and how even when it is able to digest, life is great. Because for a while I couldn’t digest anything.
And that’s fucking terrifying.
I’m realizing that sugar does weird things to my body. So I eat barely any of it now. And I feel fantastic. I really do. I think I may be a bit sensitive to sugar, as my thoughts are SO much more disordered when I’m on it than when I’m not. Like SO much more. And I had a discussion with a friend with the same symptoms and it was crazy how similar we were. So I’m beginning to think it’s not just me.
Quitting sugar and quitting grains is fucking hard. It really is. But…it’s kinda worth it. And I’m not strict like never again, I just avoid it most of the time. And I really do feel better. I binge less. And I think about food less.
So it’s something to consider.
Anyway this was long and rambly, but if you got one good thing out of it, it was worth it.
I’ve come to the realization in life where I am no longer in denial that I have a problem with overeating.
It’s incredibly freeing. Because now I know that I have a problem and there are ways to attack it.
Way #1? Keeping a food journal.
It’s amazing how much it helps. And if I have a bad reaction to a food or indigestion, I can find patterns and learn what my body needs.
It has really made a difference so far.
I am now also pretty much grain free, as my stomach is in the midst of healing. So there’s that.