I guess the internet is the perfect place to be vulnerable, so here I go. I’m currently laying down on my living room floor, making a body imprint on my shag rug, still in my pajamas from last night. I feel bloated, heavy, ashamed, pathetic, and misunderstood.
It’s no secret that fear and shame, by way of compulsive eating and body image issues, are my greatest personal struggle. And what a struggle this weekend has been. I’ve spent the last two days wrapped up in an uncomfortable euphoria, using food to distract myself away from my emotions.
I was triggered by the feelings of my body. My knees are starting to hurt, nothing fits, my breathing is getting worse, I feel unhealthy. I am shutting myself off, avoiding everyone outside of work, and not answering texts or phone calls. My mind is screaming to me “you’re never going to change“, “this is who you are“, “no one is attracted to you“, “you don’t deserve to be confident“, “you’re an embarrassment“, “you’re disappointing everyone.”
I feel like I’m on an endless cycle of panic. I just don’t know how to make this out of control mental chokehold stop in it’s tracks.
This has been my vengeance for sixteen years. S.I.X.T.E.E.N.
Eating, weight, my fat rolls, my pants size consumes my thoughts, feelings and actions. It’s what I think about when I wake up in the morning, enter a room, sit down, introduce myself, step into the shower, and walk down the street.
And the craziest part is, I know each episode will come to an end eventually, but I don’t think I believe I will ever stop binging completely. I don’t know who I am without it. I bet she’s fucking amazing, but I can’t see it being a reality. I don’t have that hope, strength, faith, and confidence that I can get there. And I hear this little voice inside my head “you can never get rid of this, it’s apart of who you are.”
I spent too many nights of my life in a sugar coma, in the fetal position on the bathroom floor, aching for something.
This isn’t an inspirational or positive post. I wish I could tie this all up in a bow and say “tomorrow will be perfect, I’ll be back on the wagon and will never binge again.” But I can’t.
What I can do is try something I haven’t before; and that’s being vulnerable and knowing I need help. That’s publishing this post, texting my friend, meditating, and calling into my first ever Overeaters Anonymous phone meeting at 8pm. I have also emailed some potential phycologists to try to get a consultation.
I can’t say I have hope right now, but I’m going to try to put one foot in front of the other. I do know my recovery isn’t magic, and I admittedly haven’t been putting the work in to fight against this little monster in my head.
So if you’re struggling. I’m right there with you. And if you need a sign or a push to take a baby step, here it is.