I hugely disappointed myself last night. First of all, I weighed myself. My scale had been hidden away (not on purpose) for ages now, and I finally got around to cleaning under our tub yesterday and it was pulled out. Like a body possessed I found myself standing on it and looking aghast at the number that appeared. I knew I had gained a lot of weight, but I was really surprised. I was at least ten pounds more than I thought I was. It made me super depressed, which led me down a somewhat destructive eating path, really just piling on top of a weekend that already had a theme of overindulgence. I was mad at myself for letting my weight get away from myself so badly again (I haven't weighed this much in three years), but I was also upset because I even weighed myself. I like how I look, and now I'm letting some stupid number ruin that for me. Of course, this does reinforce the fact that health wise I need to really stick to the changes I decided to make at the beginning of the month and truly work harder at eating mindfully.
But it also reinforces that this issue I have with food is truly an addiction, truly something in my head, something that goes beyond not have "willpower." I'm not trying to detract from my own faults in this weight gain, I mean, I did purchase, cook, and eat the food that has caused my weight gain, but I can't tell you how many times I've eaten an outrageous amount of food, rationalizing it the whole time, then, when it's gone, looking back, almost as if I had woken from a dream, unable to believe I had actually done that.
I've spent the last 24 hours feeling so full of self-loathing, and then feeling angry that I'm so full of it. It's like these two parts of me are battling each other, and I don't know who to let win, or if I even have a choice in that. While I'm often thankful I'm not significantly affected by my eating disorder (I mean, I would say I have a "mild" case), and I've not been hospitalized, I haven't had a significant binge in a long time (I'm just chronically overeating, sometimes to the point where I feel chronically ill) and I haven't started eating straight bags of sugar or something (as can happening with binge eating disorders), this all still super, duper sucks. I'm in this weird place where I just don't want to think about food any more, but I can't think about anything else.
I sometimes wonder how much more I could get done and how much better I'd feel if I just stopped eating.
But I know I can't do that, like physically can't. I like eating too much. It elicits too much pleasure for me to not do it.
Ugh. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.
Showing posts with label eating disorders. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eating disorders. Show all posts
Monday, January 25, 2016
Saturday, June 14, 2014
Making the Right Choice
In less than two weeks I've lost nearly twelve pounds. Intense, right? I won't deny being pleased, but I have myself freaked out at the same time.
The reason? I did it while following the Whole30 program. If you're not familiar with the Whole30, it's a thirty day elimination diet where you eat protein (usually meat), vegetables, healthy fats (coconut and olive oils, avocado, nut butters, but not peanut, ghee, etc.), and some fruits and nuts. The idea is that during those thirty days you cleanse your body, start to identify food issues, both emotional and physical, and, hopefully, lose weight.
Within a day or two of starting, the weight simply fell away. This isn't actually unusual, because I don't have an issue with losing weight as long as I'm really careful about how much I eat and am at least a little bit active. But this was crazy - I was losing a pound or more every day or two. I knew this kind of weight-loss couldn't be sustainable, but even after a week and a half, I was still dropping weight like it was hot.
What's more, I felt pretty great, too. I was staying full between meals, so no snacking, I had lots of energy, and couldn't say enough positive things about my experience. Even when I started feeling a little crummy and definitely grumpy, I wasn't too fazed, because it was to be expected, according to the Whole30 timeline. It was simply my body adjusting to all the new changes I was making in my diet. But then everything took a turn for the worse. Five days of heartburn, three of them absolutely excruciating, to the point where all I could do was lay in bed or sleep until it passed. I literally couldn't eat and dropped almost three pounds in two days.
I started to get scared, not because I thought my health was at risk from the heartburn or that this was even an unusual symptom (I googled it, and it's very common to have terrible heartburn during the Whole30 as things "cleanse" or whatever). I was scared because I was afraid to stop the program. I wanted to, desperately, but I was so, so afraid that if I stopped I would regain the weight I had started to lose. I didn't want to fail at this, especially since I had been so gung-ho about it.
In the midst of this, I went to see Dona, my nutritionist, and we started talking about binge-eating disorder and how well I seemed to fit into that particular category. She was fine with my continuing with the Whole30 if that's what I wanted, but her leeriness was obvious, as it had been every since I introduced the idea. After researching binge-eating disorder and how diets (even though I tried really, really hard to not categorize the Whole30 as such, so I could pretend it wouldn't be a problem for me) are a huge component of my (or anyone who binges) eat, repent, repeat cycle. I had initially thought of the Whole30 as "safe" because it wasn't a permanent change, but because I was depriving myself of so much I started to sense this could only end badly.
So, with the two week mark looming ahead, I stopped. I couldn't handle the stress of figuring out what to eat or how to avoid situations where I couldn't enjoy myself because of the food there. I couldn't handle the physical pain I was experiencing (side note: if you have some heartburn troubles, ginger kombucha helps tons!). And I could see something developing within me that could be very bad. The fear to stop doing something, even though I was thoroughly miserable, simply because it might mean I wouldn't lose as much weight or even gain some weight back, was a dangerous place to be, and I really, really didn't want to play that one out to see where it went.
I stopped and I felt immediately better emotionally. Fears went to sleep, though I still (then and now, because it's only been a very short time since I stopped) worry about regaining weight. As I move through this journey, I fully realize now, even if I might still be tempted, that any diet that significantly restricts what I can have is not a good idea for me, at least for now. Those who already have a healthy relationship with food may very well benefit significantly from the Whole30 or something similar. I won't deny the results I saw (weight-loss, improvement in my complexion and seasonal allergies), but the negatives, for me, were too great.
I'm not sure what's going to happen now. My new, short-term goals are to relax about my eating, but watch portions and to continue to go running. I'll be seeing Dona in a couple of weeks and then we can discuss what's next.
The reason? I did it while following the Whole30 program. If you're not familiar with the Whole30, it's a thirty day elimination diet where you eat protein (usually meat), vegetables, healthy fats (coconut and olive oils, avocado, nut butters, but not peanut, ghee, etc.), and some fruits and nuts. The idea is that during those thirty days you cleanse your body, start to identify food issues, both emotional and physical, and, hopefully, lose weight.
Within a day or two of starting, the weight simply fell away. This isn't actually unusual, because I don't have an issue with losing weight as long as I'm really careful about how much I eat and am at least a little bit active. But this was crazy - I was losing a pound or more every day or two. I knew this kind of weight-loss couldn't be sustainable, but even after a week and a half, I was still dropping weight like it was hot.
What's more, I felt pretty great, too. I was staying full between meals, so no snacking, I had lots of energy, and couldn't say enough positive things about my experience. Even when I started feeling a little crummy and definitely grumpy, I wasn't too fazed, because it was to be expected, according to the Whole30 timeline. It was simply my body adjusting to all the new changes I was making in my diet. But then everything took a turn for the worse. Five days of heartburn, three of them absolutely excruciating, to the point where all I could do was lay in bed or sleep until it passed. I literally couldn't eat and dropped almost three pounds in two days.
I started to get scared, not because I thought my health was at risk from the heartburn or that this was even an unusual symptom (I googled it, and it's very common to have terrible heartburn during the Whole30 as things "cleanse" or whatever). I was scared because I was afraid to stop the program. I wanted to, desperately, but I was so, so afraid that if I stopped I would regain the weight I had started to lose. I didn't want to fail at this, especially since I had been so gung-ho about it.
In the midst of this, I went to see Dona, my nutritionist, and we started talking about binge-eating disorder and how well I seemed to fit into that particular category. She was fine with my continuing with the Whole30 if that's what I wanted, but her leeriness was obvious, as it had been every since I introduced the idea. After researching binge-eating disorder and how diets (even though I tried really, really hard to not categorize the Whole30 as such, so I could pretend it wouldn't be a problem for me) are a huge component of my (or anyone who binges) eat, repent, repeat cycle. I had initially thought of the Whole30 as "safe" because it wasn't a permanent change, but because I was depriving myself of so much I started to sense this could only end badly.
So, with the two week mark looming ahead, I stopped. I couldn't handle the stress of figuring out what to eat or how to avoid situations where I couldn't enjoy myself because of the food there. I couldn't handle the physical pain I was experiencing (side note: if you have some heartburn troubles, ginger kombucha helps tons!). And I could see something developing within me that could be very bad. The fear to stop doing something, even though I was thoroughly miserable, simply because it might mean I wouldn't lose as much weight or even gain some weight back, was a dangerous place to be, and I really, really didn't want to play that one out to see where it went.
I stopped and I felt immediately better emotionally. Fears went to sleep, though I still (then and now, because it's only been a very short time since I stopped) worry about regaining weight. As I move through this journey, I fully realize now, even if I might still be tempted, that any diet that significantly restricts what I can have is not a good idea for me, at least for now. Those who already have a healthy relationship with food may very well benefit significantly from the Whole30 or something similar. I won't deny the results I saw (weight-loss, improvement in my complexion and seasonal allergies), but the negatives, for me, were too great.
I'm not sure what's going to happen now. My new, short-term goals are to relax about my eating, but watch portions and to continue to go running. I'll be seeing Dona in a couple of weeks and then we can discuss what's next.
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
A Little Backstory
Let's jump in with something big, shall we?
I have been going to see a nutritionist, Dona, since 2012. I was at my heaviest then, a weight too embarrassing to share publicly. Between January 2012 and May 2012, I lost roughly forty pounds. It wasn't everything I felt I needed to lose, by a long shot, but it was a great start. That May, I got pregnant with my second child and trying to lose weight went out the window. I did try to continue to eat well, but pregnancy sure was a good excuse to overindulge (I thought).
After my son, M., was born, I obviously wanted to lose the baby weight and get back on track with healthier eating. Off and on I would go, through spurts of really trying to watch what I ate, going to see Dona regularly, and just generally being "good" about what I ate. And then I would go through bouts of total food annihilation. No foods (except for maybe veggies) were safe. I would eat and eat and eat. Maybe there would be a "good" day in between, but generally my eating habits sucked. Finally, enough days would go by where I felt like total crap when I went to bed, stomach too full to get comfortable, and the scale tipping just way too far in the wrong direction. Then I would feel very guilty - not too guilty, mind you, because I am excellent at rationalizing the things I do to avoid that very feeling - but still, that nasty turn of the stomach feeling would sneak in.
Once that unsettling feeling of guilt finally got to me, I would lay awake at night and promise myself and the ethos that the next day would be better. I would call Dona and make an appointment (because, you see, I had already missed two). I would go for that run that I said I would do for the last two weeks. I would make sure I ate better. I. Would. Be. Good.
And then I would be "good". And then I would be "bad" again. And my weight? Well, luckily for me, it stayed roughly the same, until very recently, where in the last two months I gained about five pounds, then lost it and another ten with it (more on that later).
I ask you to notice two things about what I just wrote. First, note my focus on why I wanted to do better with my eating. Weight-loss. Now, I could write a whole post (and maybe I will) on the media and pop culture and women who are bigger than allowed by their standards, but for now I will say that I am like almost any other warm blooded American women in that I see these "standards" in which I am expected to live up and they scare me into thinking I better start laying off the cupcakes and doing that thirty-day ab challenge a bunch of my Facebook friends are doing. And, that's not to say that eating fewer cupcakes or doing crunches is a bad thing, because it's certainly not, but when it's not coming from an emotionally healthy place the results that come will likely soon be erased.
That brings me to the second thing I want you to see - my cycle. My cycle of "binge, repent, repeat" (Dr. Michelle May) is something I've done for as long as I can remember, though I never realized what a problem it was until I was older, just as I was starting to see Dona. I looked at it very distinctly as being "good" versus being "bad". The quotes around these words, by the way, aren't there for some weird, pretentious reason. They're there to highlight that the terms good and bad are very subjective here. I'm not out to actively harm myself when I eat poorly, though I surely am. And, to be honest, when I eat well, the reasons aren't always good ones (like improved health, better performance when I run, or longevity so I can enjoy my family for as long as possible).
These two things are just parts of the multifaceted puzzle that makes up binge-eating disorder, a disorder with which I've been tentatively identified.
A definition from the Binge Eating Disorder Association:
Binge eating disorder is characterized by recurring episodes of binge eating, feeling out of control while binging, and feeling guilt and shame afterward.
I can imagine some reading this and thinking, "Geez, why can't the fatty just stop eating? It's her own fault." And there isn't a whole lot I can say to counter that, because, on some level, I agree. But, the truth is, I can't "just stop" binging. It's my source of comfort when everything else around me feels out of control or fills me with anxiety. It's my cigarette, my beer, my opiate. Food is my drug*. There are chemical and emotional strings attached to every bite I take, and while I do not withdraw ownership over many of the food choices I make, both good and bad, each choice is tinged with this unhealthy relationship, which I have not chosen to have.
I'll end this by saying I'm not under any allusions that this is the same as a heroin addiction or will devastate my body and family in the same fashion as something like bulimia or anorexia, but it is a battle, my battle, and one that is long overdue.
*And in fact, one of the risk factors of having binge-eating disorder is previous addictions.
I have been going to see a nutritionist, Dona, since 2012. I was at my heaviest then, a weight too embarrassing to share publicly. Between January 2012 and May 2012, I lost roughly forty pounds. It wasn't everything I felt I needed to lose, by a long shot, but it was a great start. That May, I got pregnant with my second child and trying to lose weight went out the window. I did try to continue to eat well, but pregnancy sure was a good excuse to overindulge (I thought).
After my son, M., was born, I obviously wanted to lose the baby weight and get back on track with healthier eating. Off and on I would go, through spurts of really trying to watch what I ate, going to see Dona regularly, and just generally being "good" about what I ate. And then I would go through bouts of total food annihilation. No foods (except for maybe veggies) were safe. I would eat and eat and eat. Maybe there would be a "good" day in between, but generally my eating habits sucked. Finally, enough days would go by where I felt like total crap when I went to bed, stomach too full to get comfortable, and the scale tipping just way too far in the wrong direction. Then I would feel very guilty - not too guilty, mind you, because I am excellent at rationalizing the things I do to avoid that very feeling - but still, that nasty turn of the stomach feeling would sneak in.
Once that unsettling feeling of guilt finally got to me, I would lay awake at night and promise myself and the ethos that the next day would be better. I would call Dona and make an appointment (because, you see, I had already missed two). I would go for that run that I said I would do for the last two weeks. I would make sure I ate better. I. Would. Be. Good.
And then I would be "good". And then I would be "bad" again. And my weight? Well, luckily for me, it stayed roughly the same, until very recently, where in the last two months I gained about five pounds, then lost it and another ten with it (more on that later).
I ask you to notice two things about what I just wrote. First, note my focus on why I wanted to do better with my eating. Weight-loss. Now, I could write a whole post (and maybe I will) on the media and pop culture and women who are bigger than allowed by their standards, but for now I will say that I am like almost any other warm blooded American women in that I see these "standards" in which I am expected to live up and they scare me into thinking I better start laying off the cupcakes and doing that thirty-day ab challenge a bunch of my Facebook friends are doing. And, that's not to say that eating fewer cupcakes or doing crunches is a bad thing, because it's certainly not, but when it's not coming from an emotionally healthy place the results that come will likely soon be erased.
That brings me to the second thing I want you to see - my cycle. My cycle of "binge, repent, repeat" (Dr. Michelle May) is something I've done for as long as I can remember, though I never realized what a problem it was until I was older, just as I was starting to see Dona. I looked at it very distinctly as being "good" versus being "bad". The quotes around these words, by the way, aren't there for some weird, pretentious reason. They're there to highlight that the terms good and bad are very subjective here. I'm not out to actively harm myself when I eat poorly, though I surely am. And, to be honest, when I eat well, the reasons aren't always good ones (like improved health, better performance when I run, or longevity so I can enjoy my family for as long as possible).
These two things are just parts of the multifaceted puzzle that makes up binge-eating disorder, a disorder with which I've been tentatively identified.
A definition from the Binge Eating Disorder Association:
Binge eating disorder is characterized by recurring episodes of binge eating, feeling out of control while binging, and feeling guilt and shame afterward.
I can imagine some reading this and thinking, "Geez, why can't the fatty just stop eating? It's her own fault." And there isn't a whole lot I can say to counter that, because, on some level, I agree. But, the truth is, I can't "just stop" binging. It's my source of comfort when everything else around me feels out of control or fills me with anxiety. It's my cigarette, my beer, my opiate. Food is my drug*. There are chemical and emotional strings attached to every bite I take, and while I do not withdraw ownership over many of the food choices I make, both good and bad, each choice is tinged with this unhealthy relationship, which I have not chosen to have.
I'll end this by saying I'm not under any allusions that this is the same as a heroin addiction or will devastate my body and family in the same fashion as something like bulimia or anorexia, but it is a battle, my battle, and one that is long overdue.
*And in fact, one of the risk factors of having binge-eating disorder is previous addictions.
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