Current Weight: 310.9lbs.
That number just makes me want to barfcry.
Some people have to work really hard to gain that much in such a short period of time, and they aren't trying to get better.
To be fair, I have not been doing any kind of dieting. I regularly eat massive amounts of bad-for-me foods. A pack of cookies a day, plus burgers, plus cheese and snacks and sodas. But when I think about not doing it, it's like a mania takes over. I get anxious and upset when I even think about not eating what I want to. This happened recently:
When we were driving home from Sunday dinner at my parents house, I asked my husband if he wanted to stop for frozen yogurt or milkshakes. I had been excitedly thinking about it for the last 10 minutes. He said neither because he wanted to fit in his suit for his friends wedding coming up. Insanely/Selfishly/Narcissistic-ally I took that as a slight ('if you think you're too big, then you must know that i'm a cow. maybe he just doesn't want me eating. he wants me to be skinny, he's unhappy with his fat wife.' These are the thoughts of crazy-SBB. Regular me knows that yes, my husband wants me to be thinner, but only because I want to be. He wants me to be healthy. He doesn't want to make me suffer or deprive me or be unhappy. And then I said "Yeah, sure, I don't need dessert."
And the craziness crept back into my thoughts - I started thinking about my habit of emotional eating, and how upset these Sunday dinner sometimes make me. How out of control my emotional eating is. How sometimes the only way I can feel whole and peaceful is to eat so much that it hurts. I eat when I feel anything. I eat because I want to feel nothing. it's like anesthesia.
And then I got anxious. Because I was upset about something and I couldn't have food right then. Because I couldn't do anything about all the feelings that being in therapy is bringing to the surface. I was literally driving the car and obsessively thinking about food. Knowing that food is only a temporary anesthesia. Knowing that food only makes the shame worse and the feelings more crushing. And then the anxiety started to really spin out of control. I was a mess inside my head by the time I parked the car at home.
I picked up my purse, and it felt kind of heavy. And then I remembered that there was a box of cookies in my bag, and just like that... the anxiety disappeared. I knew what had to be done to feel better. I would eat the cookies sneakily, while my husband showered. And I'm ashamed. I ate them. I didn't stop with one. I ate the whole box.
This happens at least once if not twice a day.
Emotion --> Food -> Numb --> Wears Off --> Shame --> Emotion --> Food --> Numb --> Wears Off --> Shame --> Rinse & Repeat
I don't know how to break this emotional eating cycle. I eat when I'm stressed, anxious, upset, sad, self-pitying. I eat because I want to eat. I eat because I'm fat. My fatness is the source of stress with my relationship with my father. That's really the only thing I'm sure of. I don't know why I'm so unhappy with myself.
Because truthfully - My life is good. I love my home and my husband. I love my job, although it's stressing me out. I definitely have some damage in my past, and my relationship with my parents is a fucking nightmare, but
I don't have anything at present to really be unhappy about. But I feel like there's a huge bubbling cauldron of shame inside me. Just boiling with acid and self-hatred. It feels like heartburn sometimes. Mostly it feels like hunger.
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So I'm a little vulnerable right now. I had my first group therapy session with people struggling with similar but different issues. None of them have weight issues, but they're in therapy for stuff like depression, social anxiety, and addiction. It was draining but really helpful. It was comforting to know that I shared a lot of problems with others, and that some of them had problems that I didn't.
The shame-cauldron was definitely there - bubbling away under the surface for the whole hour. When it was my tun to speak, I could barely keep from crying. I felt like a big raw wound, held together with skin and hunger.
Immediately after it was over, I leaped into my car and went to the grocery store. I was definitely a little manic. I told myself I was there for lemons.
But I went through my usual grocery ritual - knowing full well that I'm an emotional mess and I'm eating because I'm upset.
Pick up lemons.
Look at the muffins and pastries. Persuade myself that that's not what I want. Even though I really want it. I'll keep moving until I find the right thing.
Look at chips. Pick Lentil chips because they are "healthier" but it's not what I'm craving.
Oo! Green veggie juice with lemon. it's like 4 servings of veggies, and I'm thirsty.
Look at cookie and chip aisle longingly. Move on because that's
too bad.
Move onto ice cream - I think that's what I'm craving - but have to walk through dairy and eggs section, so I pick up cookie dough but it's organic so that's a better than the stuff with perservatives.
Ice cream aisle finally - pick up some Ben & Jerry's greek Yogurt in peanut butter and banana because it's delicious but not as bad as the full fat chocolate explosion that I really want.
Get some magic shell on the way out because I'm not a fucking saint.
Check out. I grab a snickers peanut butter bar to eat in the car, because I can't eat ice cream in the car. No spoon.
So the pattern is Deny myself, Healthy choices, Deny myself, Bad choice, Okay but still giving in, Bad Choice, Give up entirely. Eat everything.
Is denial still an option?
