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My overactive imagination pictured myself dying in the emergency room from bingeing on Taco Bell on day 16 of a fast.
Date: 9/7/2005 1:55:53 AM ( 19 y ) ... viewed 1785 times September 6, 2005 @ Morning
At 6:30 AM I rose and took my husband off to work. I don't normally do this, but he is leaving from work for a business trip. Usually, sadly, I looked forward to his trips because it meant I could eat what ever I wanted all day long out in the open instead of secretly as I did most of the time. As I drove home I thought about how much I was going to miss him over the next four days, how I couldn't explain to our daughter why daddy wouldn't be home to eat dinner and read her bedtime stories.
Then the old thoughts started returning...I could have a sausage egg and cheese biscuit for breakfast...I could have two. Then later in the afternoon I could have Taco Bell and swing by Krispe Kreme to pick up a couple dozen donuts. Then of course I could have ice cream, chocolate chip cookies, pepperoni pizza, chips and dip...(disgusting I know, but I have given myself permission to talk honestly about this stuff...that is why I choose to keep myself anonymous so I can have an outlet as a hopes of changing my destructive eating habits). The truth is I had a very emotional day and journey inward into my truth.
The truth is I enjoyed eating that way and I was actually disappointed that I wasn't going to be able to live it up over the next few days. My overactive imagination pictured myself dying in the emergency room from bingeing on Taco Bell on day 16 of a fast. When I got home I went and stood in front of the mirror...when did this way of eating drown so much of the life out of me that in spite of my 20 pound weight loss I still wish I could spend my days eating horrible foods? You see it starts out stress related, leads to depression, then manages the depression, and ultimately continues because being so fat caused me to have panic attacks and not want to go out in public so what did I do? Avoided people as much as possible and ate to feel better. Crazy.
I looked back at when this all began. I was a star athlete (I am not making that up), I was Olympic bound. My parents were getting divorced. They started commenting on the fact that they couldn't seem to keep bread or cookies in the house anymore. When I came home from school (to an empty house since both my parents worked) I would go into the kitchen. Pull out six pieces of wheat bread. Toast them, butter them, and sprinkle them with cinnamon and sugar or maple syrup. Then I would stack them up and slice them down middle making twelve haves. Next I would go and flip on NBC to catch 45 minutes of Days of Our Lives. I would get up for cookies, chips, and any other snacks that were around during the commercial break before Donahue. I was 13 years old. A few months later my parents were so distracted by their fighting/divorcing/hating each other (but still living in the same house) that they started giving me money for breakfast and lunch. I would get up early and leave for school so that I could get to the corner grocery store by 7:00 AM. Most kids bought a donut or two around 7:45 AM. I got there early and bought 6 to 12 donuts (mostly maple bars), a few candy bars, Now and Laters, and a bag of chili cheese fritos. I hide it all in my huge Esprit bag until I could unload it into my locker. I would take bathroom breaks so I could eat a couple donuts during class. I usually finished all of them by "nutrition" the 10 minute break before third period. At nutrition I would eat a gooey chocolate chip cookie and drink a coke.
Needless to say I didn't really gain any weight. I trained 4 to 6 hours a day, went to school, ran track, and played outside a lot (not to mention I was just young I guess) so nobody really noticed and I didn't see or think about consequences. I don't even think I thought anything was strange about my behavior.
Once the divorce was over and my father and I moved to a different state and my parents decided to pull me from my sport due to finances I continued this way of eating. Now not only were my parents divorced and my sister and I split up, I had no identity. I felt lost, confused, abandoned, ashamed.
So it was my thirteenth year of life that food became my secret life and ultimately the way I would deal with all the stressors that came my way. It didn't show physically though until I was 28 years old. Through all that food I remained a size 9/10. From 28 to now I have gone from a 9/10 to 22/24 back down to a 15/16 and back again. Big deep breath.
So I as examined myself more closely in the mirror I realized I hadn’t really looked at myself for a long time. I hadn’t’ been able to see my face, my face, the one that I recognize for such a long time. But I see it now. My skin is clear, my cheekbones apparent, with my hair up I can see the graceful line my coach always complemented me on, I remembered today how if felt to be toned, active, flexible, beautiful, me. And I didn’t want to eat anything that would take that memory away again.
So if I can redirect myself like that 60 more times...accroding to comment on my blog I’ll be cured of this bad habit. I hope so because I don’t want to spend another 20 years like that.
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