This morning dawned with a yet another commitment to record everything I eat and to try to make what I put in my mouth as nutritionally sound as possible. I ate two slices of Healthy Life toast with half a tablespoon of almond butter on one piece and half a tablespoon of sunflower butter on the other. I also had coffee with Splenda and a quarter cup of Unsweetened Vanilla Almond Breeze. I tracked my food on MyFitnessPal.com.
This last week or so has been a particularly difficult one for me food-wise. It started with a binge last Wednesday. I haven’t had too many full-on binges in my life, but that’s what this felt like. Out of control eating, not really tasting the food or being hungry, and vaguely aware that I was trying to fill a space inside that wasn’t my stomach, and the knowledge that i was engaging in self-destructive behavior.
My stomach was, of course, the space I ended up filling. Before I knew it, I was uncomfortably full after eating half of a pretty decently sized loaf of Italian bread and most of a brick of cheddar cheese. I was sitting on the sofa with a mostly eaten bag of pita chips and a mostly empty jar of Nutella. I threw the rest of both away, I was so angry with myself. As I contemplated how much food I had just consumed, I hated myself possibly more than I ever have before. I lost it. I cried over my lack of self-control, over the fact that I had been trying for over a year to lose 20 pounds and “couldn’t,” over my inability to make myself throw up everything I had just eaten, and over the things that caused me to binge like that in the first place.
And here’s where it gets dicey.
I can’t really talk about that stuff right now. It’s a situation that had come out in my therapy session the day before, and my gut is telling me that the binging was a delayed reaction to the pain that I was feeling. I didn’t want to think about the issue, so I ate instead. I found something I could blame myself for. I can’t blame anyone BUT myself for eating too much, right?
Anyway, I managed to pull myself together and get on with the evening. I even managed to stop hating myself. Friday I made a nice dinner for The Boy and me to enjoy as we kicked off our mini-vacation to celebrate our anniversary. I made duck breasts and wild rice “stuffing.” I made praline bread pudding (why I had the Italian bread in the first place) for dessert. I ate a reasonable amount of all of it.
We still have the next couple of days off together and we’ll be going out to eat a couple more times. I’m still trying to forgive myself for Wednesday night, but I know I will never forgive myself if I let my issues with food ruin the time I have with The Boy. He deserves better than that, and I’m pretty sure I do, too.