So, I’m going to really put myself out there and share something extremely personal with you. This is something I wrote in my journal the other day. I’ve cleaned it up only enough to take out some names but I’m sharing the raw truth with you here. My language is atrocious because that’s exactly how I felt at the time. The funny thing is, I don’t feel this way ALL the time, but boy when I do, it really sucks. I’ve snapped out of this mood for the time being, but I felt compelled to share for those who may be going through something similar. I wanted to remember this feeling so when I feel like it’s okay to skip a workout, I can see why it’s not. Skipping workouts lead to eating poorly, which leads to what I’ve written below.
If you ever feel like this, you’re not alone. I promise.
No, I don’t look fat in those pants – and other lies I tell myself. I think this should be the name of my new book. The one I’m constantly writing in my head about this eating disorder. There, I said it. I have one. I eat uncontrollably for no good reason and I feel shame, guilt, and disgust. I’m pretty sure that’s considered an eating disorder. Well, what are you going to do? I guess the first step is admitting it, right? Of course I’m not the “face” of an eating disorder. As I recently told a friend, I don’t fit in anywhere. I’m not heavy enough to be considered “obese”. I’m certainly not thin or fit enough to fit into the thin/fit crowd. I feel invisible. I’m the poor mom who “let herself go”. The thing is, at this point there are so many more things I care about than that. I really don’t even know how important being thin is to me until that moment when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Or I feel my belly go over my pants – a place a belly should never go. Why is it that the second I’m alone, I have a compulsive need to fill my face with “bad” food – food I know I won’t even taste because I’m devouring it so quickly? It’s an urge I can’t fight and have no desire to. And before my brain can even process what’s happening, the food is gone and has been replaced with guilt. I don’t even know what being “satisfied” feels like. I know what being too full feels like because that’s where I stop. And guilt and too full have become synonymous in my life. They are the same thing. There’s no difference between the two because they only exist together. Food has taken over my thoughts and I’m either thinking about my next meal or regretting my last. I’m either kicking my own ass for bad choices or giving myself a pep talk about how I’ll do better. Tomorrow. There’s always tomorrow. My nine year old has mentioned my weight a couple of times over the last week or so. Things like, “is it because you’re ring is too small?”. That kind of thing. Indicating that something, whether it’s my jewelry or clothes is “too small”. I know what she means and she’s right. I can actually tell from her face that she is aware that I’m heavier now. She used to tell people I was a personal trainer with such pride. Now I’m not even sure she’d want to introduce me to anyone. My husband has gained weight too. He’s said that we really need to do something about our weight, for our girls. It just doesn’t even feel real. It feels like I’ve got all the time in the world, in my mind. However, my body is telling a different story as less and less of my clothing fits properly – or at all. Why do I binge on foods that I don’t even love? Or taste for that matter. Why can’t it be more important to me? I seriously had the thought the other day that it would be nice to move to a different place – a place where no one knew the former fit me so I wouldn’t have to suffer through those “gosh, you really let yourself go” looks. I’ve been told a bazillion times in the past couple of months “I didn’t even recognize you”. They always say it’s my hair, (I change it often) but I suddenly realized the other day that it’s not my hair. It’s my weight. People used to say the same thing to me regarding my weight, but it was because I had lost so much. Now it’s because I’ve gained it all back and then some. How is that not enough to propel me into some fitness plan? Or having my doctor tell me I really need to lose weight? I mean seriously, what the fuck will it take to make a change? What was it that clicked so thoroughly that it seemed so fucking easy last time? Because it did seem easy. It was effortless and when I look back at the time frame it happened in, just a couple of months, I can’t believe my brain can’t overcome this “thing” and just kick itself into fucking gear. What the hell? Seriously? What will it take? When will feeling better about myself trump the binge eating and laziness that seem to have become so deeply ingrained in me?