Tag Archives: binge eating

Small Steps

16 Dec

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I drag my exhausted body into the house. Looking around the disheveled living room, I shake my head and sink into the nearest chair. I feel the anxiety in my chest rising. My heart is starting to race. I can hear an echo in my ears. I can feel a lump in my throat.
I am thinking about the next few days. The stress of the upcoming holidays. The waiting. I am always waiting for something better. My mouth becomes dry. I stand up and pace. My mind locks on to one thought. I look over at my husband and he already knows what is happening.

Fifteen minutes later, I slowly unwrap the brown greasy bag. I take out a item that is less like food and more like a drug. I shovel it in my mouth. There really is no taste. I am not eating this for the taste; I am eating this for the fix, the high, the ability to focus on something else.
The bag is empty. My hands shine with grease and my face shines with guilt. I am ashamed. I am embarrassed. My chest seems to be pounding again. My mouth hangs half open. How do I let things get to this?

After a binge, I want to restrict. I want to purge. I want to feel clean again. Or…I keep bingeing. I temporarily give up on myself.
Friday was difficult. I wanted to run more than the 3 miles my training required. I wanted to head to the gym. I wanted to eat only 900 calories. I tried to push these thoughts away. Restricting will only lead to a binge. Bineging more will just make me feel worse.

I was able to moderately eat and only do my training run. I was proud. I came out on the other side of a binge. I did not slide downhill for a few days, nor did I starve myself for a few days.

Yesterday, I ran my week 3 long run. I did 7.05 miles in 69 minutes. I was able to enjoy a cupcake, guilt-free, afterwards. I am trying to not let stress control my eating habits, but it is easier said than done. I have been focusing for almost three-years on fixing myself, but I do know a lot of it is mental. I eat to relieve the stress I feel over things I feel I cannot control. I eat to relieve myself of the obscene standards I place upon myself. I eat when I fail….or when I think I have failed.

Point of this post: this is one of the first times I can remember NOT letting one binge control me and alter my next few days or weeks. Progress is progress. I have to remember to be proud of the small things.

I add memes to lighten up a serious sounding post...

I add memes to lighten up a serious sounding post…

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The Aftermath Has an Aftertaste of Dirt

24 Nov

I am woken up by my husband before nine this morning. His face looks weary. He is hoovering over me like he has something to tell me that he does not want me to know. I ask him if he picked up the car. He has picked up the car, but he has some bad news along with the good news.

I get up and snatch the keys from his hands. I slide my feet through my blue slip-ons and rush outside. There is the car. The car looks just as it always has. Beige, used, and oddly reliable. I cannot bring myself to place the key in the lock. I cannot bring myself to open the car door. I think of the scumbag breaking open my car door. The scumbag sitting in the driver’s seat of my car.

My husband comes over and opens the car door for me. The car looks as if a mini-tornado ripped through it. I feel violated. My stomach feels sick and I struggle to look through the mess. My son’s bike is in the trunk, but it is the only thing that was left. My running shorts, knee straps, my sports bra, weight lifting gloves, my running shoes, the toys we were going to donate, and my husband’s tool set are all gone. I become slightly dizzy. Who steals a pair of used running shorts? Who steals ripped weight lifting gloves? I am at a loss. I scream out some obscenities and slam the car door shut.

I had my workout stuff in the car because I was going to the gym right after I spent the afternoon with hubs. Otherwise, I would never just leave those things in the car. I do not typically use the car as a chest of drawers.

I feel violated. I am angry. I am grateful to have the car back, but then disgusted because I should not have to be grateful about that. No one should have to be thankful for getting their car back after it was stolen from them.

The cops told my husband, last night on the phone, that what saved us is that we had a practically empty tank. The lowlife only made it to the next town over. When the cops found our car, the engine was still warm.

I was upset last night. Then, I was thrilled to find out we would get the car back today. Now, after seeing the car, I feel disgusting. Someone ripped apart my car, looked at the items, and decided what was best to steal. I feel like the turkey carcass after a big Thanksgiving dinner; People picking the last morsels of meat and then they throw out the bones.

The lowlife stole the laundry basket in the trunk and filled it with the stolen goods. I can picture him riffling through my car and then fleeing in the night. But I cannot imagine how he (or she) feels. How does a person like that tick? Clearly that car is owned by a family. The loser stole our registration, took my id out of my gym stuff, and threw my son’s Disneyland hat in the trunk. That scum saw parts of us and we will never know who he is. We will never know why he did it or what he did with our stuff. This is what bothers me most. He broke in, took our mode of transportation, stole most of what was in it, and disrupted my family’s life.

I want to forget about all of this. I want to sit in front of  the television and veg. I want to eat junk food. I want a big bag of Jack in the Box. I want to stop being angry. I wish I could be more grateful that we have our car back. I am disappointed in myself. I do not know what to do. Handling emotions is not something I have ever been able to do.

Food is Not a Shoulder to Cry on

24 Nov

My husband and I went out today. We never go out on Black Friday; “Why not see it for once”, we said.

Our first stop was Target. We saw many deals out still, even after 1pm. Surprisingly, we ignored the shopping bug nipping at our wallets. On the way out, however, we saw a box. Inside the box was a twelve-inch bike all decked out in Lightening McQueen decals. Our son, almost three, has been begging for the past few months for a bike. His birthday is a month after Christmas. We found the perfect gift. With smiles, we purchased the bike and bounced out of Target. We were so happy to find such a great deal on a bike for our boy! We place the box in the trunk and decide to walk the short distance to the mall. Earlier we saw that the parking lot was ridiculous, so why bother?

After a few hours at the mall, we headed back to the parking lot. After five minutes, my scanning starts to become frantic. “Hun, where is the car?” My husband walks down the next aisle of parked cars. I stand there while a lump grows in my throat. I can see he is pacing in between cars. There is a worried look coming over his face. My eyes begin to water because I know what has happened. “The car is gone, isn’t it?” I start to scream the first part over and over again. I begin to cry as I run between cars. I am silently praying that I am just being paranoid and jumping to conclusions. I always jump to conclusions.

But I am not being paranoid and I did jump to the right conclusion; the car was stolen.

I think of my son’s new bike. I wonder how will my husband get to work. I, selfishly, think of my running shoes. I think of the little things in my car, in my family’s car.

Jump to two hours later.
The police report was made. We are all at home. At the dinner table, I check the NBA game scores for the night. I watch my grandmother set up dinner. I immediately think of all the food I want to eat. I am not hungry, but food will fix my problem. I always tell myself that food will fix the problem.

How disgusting of me to go there. All the progress I have made, but I need to work on my relationship with food. Eating three slices of pumpkin pie will not bring the car back. Eating 5,000 calories will not make this turn into just a nightmare.

Luckily, before we start eating dinner, the police call and tell us our car is at a tow place. We can pick it up tomorrow. I hope my baby’s bike is still in there.

I am disappointed that I almost binged. Almost three years has past since I have actively decided to not emotionally eat. I need to take more time to work on this goal. Food does not cure emotional problems.

Love Thyself (Challenge #2)

20 Nov

I have a confession to make: I let other people influence my eating habits.

When I was younger, I was a bossy child. I had opinions, both right and wrong ones, and I stuck to them with a fervor and passion that could not be taken away. However, as I grew up, I became insecure and lost my confidence. Suddenly, my ideas, thoughts, and opinions, seemed weak and I was ready to toss them aside for almost anyone else’s.

I decided, almost three years ago, that I no longer wanted the eating habits that had plagued me for years. I revamped a lot of the things I did. I no longer drank regular soda. I no longer ate fast food multiple times a day. I actually started eating fruits and veggies. My husband was left in the wind. When we met, it was a whirlwind of late nights, fast food wrappers, and bad decisions. We loved spending time together, spending money, and eating. I can see that, to him, I have become a different person. I am trying to budget our money. I do not want to go out to eat. I spend more time in the gym. I talk about nutrition, running, lifting, and other things that he has no interest in. I see why he does not support me. I am not the women he fell in love with or married. At the same time though, people are constantly changing and evolving. Maybe one day he will change his mind and join me, or just support what I am doing.

Until then, I cannot let others influence the decisions I am making for myself. If my husband wants fast food then I must let him but not have it myself. I have to be able to stand up for myself and say, “No!” In the end, my husband might not feel guilty for eating junk food but I do.

This is the part of the journey that has been the hardest for me. I need to learn to love and respect myself. My whole life has been about putting other people first. I am always trying to make others happy. But what about Heather? I always seem to forget about her. I am always so willing to throw away what I want to put a smile on someone else’s face.

This is my new challenge. I messed up on my first challenge. I had fast food. I lasted a full week, but my challenge was a month. My husband wanted it Sunday night after the gym and I ate it with him. My next challenge: For 14 days, the span of two weeks, I need to stand up for myself. I want to rid myself of fast food and the daily junk in my life. I will have many opportunities to speak up and say, “No thank you, I do not want any of that.” If I do not learn how to stand up for myself, love myself, and respect myself I will lose control again.

What? Who? Me? You? … Leave a Message After the Beep.

18 Nov

 

BEEEEP

 

I pray to the Gods of college, coursework, and education in general that last night will be the last time I have to attempt an all-nighter until spring semester (or never having to attempt one again would be nice too). I went to bed around 6-6:30am and woke up on and off from 10 until 11:45am. If you asked my random facts about myself today, I probably could not tell you anything past my name. I am checked out today folks. If my training log did not tell me it was Sunday, who knows what I would say the date is.
My blender bottle is full of coffee and whey protein mix. A nice little dish in front of me is pilled with steamed broccoli. One, if not both, of these things better perk me up and help me become partially functional.

 

I took my measurements today and was not thrilled. I did lose a pound and a half but apparently I am only slimming down my thighs. Damn the lower belly pooch of childbirth, will I ever see you disappear?! I see that I need to cut some sodium out. (I am not bingeing, so that is good. My weekly calorie totals are just about where they should be, give or take a couple hundred.) I know part of it is TOM, that bastard, but putting hot sauce on everything might just be part of the problem soon. I am also worried that with marathon training I will lose lean mass too and not just fat. I am still lifting while running (thus far, however I am nervous about when my mileage really starts to go up) so I am hoping to combat this issue. I had a (now ex) friend tell me that I could never develop my lean muscle mass and just lose fat if I was running. If that is true, then I will take being skinny fat forever.

 

If I came home to that ^ I would run every single day. Wait, I almost do that now! I love to run. As much as I would love to be a sexy bulk of lean firm muscles, the feeling I get during and after a run (especially one ranging from 6-13 miles) beats that desire.

I lost track of my days and of the daily fit thoughts. Damn my need for a higher education. (If there is still such a thing in America.) I will figure out if today is Day 9, 10, or 11 later and then I will post on how i’m doing without fast food and what the fit thought is today.

I only have an hour to three of homework today and I will be able to fit in my gym time. YAY!

Can someone find a way to have Ryan Gosling at my house, waiting for me, when I come home from the gym? justathought.

Day 7

17 Nov

I got home on the later side last night and had no energy to blog.
Yesterday was a nice day. My grandmother, hubs, my son, and I all went to into LA to spend the afternoon/evening. I was taken around the LACC campus. I will be a TA there next spring. My grandma thought it’d be wise to check it out as much as possible before then.
Then, we went to the LA Zoo. This pair of Sea Eagles freak my son out. They were fighting for dominance and my son was gapping at them. Poor kid was shaking. As we left, I asked him if wanted to work with animals and he said, “No Eagles are bad boys.”
After that we headed over to the Griffith Observatory. Sadly, the sky was too cloudy so we could not look out of the big telescope. Hubs and I did see a cool show about the Mayan calendar though.
Finally, we headed to the main tourist-y area of Hollywood. We ate at Mel’s Drive-In. I had fish n’ chips and a vanilla diet coke. My drink was to die for!
What shocked me was how I was able to control myself despite having only my coffee protein shake before the dinner. We went out all day and had no snacks, nothing. My grandma tends to do that. Not healthy, but we do not go out with her like that frequently.

Anyway, it was nice to have a family outing. I don’t speak to my dad and his side of the family. Even if I did speak to my dad, my dad, mom, and two sisters live in SC anyway.

Oh, and for those of you wondering: my roots are not orange (:

Moms Cannot Do All-Nighters

16 Nov

 

I was all set up to be in bed by 11pm last night. What did I end up doing? Surfing the internets, texting, and watching Vampire Diaries. I want to blame this need to stay up until 3am on my sore scratchy throat. How could I go to bed when my throat was on fire? Obviously, I could not.

Disclaimer: Do not make fun of my love of Vampire Diaries. I’m not a fan of Twilight, or fluff books/shows in general. For some reason, I cannot help but love Vampire Diaries. I think it has a solid plot, well-developed characters, and decent acting. Most of all the show as this:

 

Are all you ladies awake now?! Haha, I know I am! ❤

Anyway, staying up late led to me eating 1/3 a bag of cheddar n’ sour cream Ruffles (because my hubs likes to bring shit food into the house) and then 3 serving sizes of tortilla chips. I like to put a drop of hot sauce on the chip and then eat it. Clearly salty goodness is my weakness. I went over 500 calories. I am not disappointed like I usually would be. I recognized that I had a small-ish dinner and I stayed up to late. The combination led to some bad choices. I know today will be better though. Even despite the lack of sleep.

My hubs woke me up when he got home from work at 4:30am. Then, I usually have incredibly strange dreams. One of those woke me up at 6am. Then, my son woke me fully up at 9am. This is why moms cannot do all-nighters. If we stay up past midnight, we pay the price.

I have to wrap up this post because there is dye on my roots and I do not want to have orange hair. (: