I’ve exercised and eaten healthy four days in a row and I’m still 145.
I have confused the heck out of my body and it now has no clue whether I’m blulking up for an emergency or whether I’ve been put through an obstacle course. It doesn’t know whether to hold on or let go. It doesn’t know what’s up and what’s down.
So I have to teach it all over again that we’re all fine, that I’m stable, that I’m OK. My body has a way of over-protecting myself because of all the crap I’ve done. From anorexia to bulimia, to fad diets to pills to laxatives, to — what were those pills in the early ’80’s — oh, yah, Fen-Phen. How could I forget!
It usually takes a good month of me rollercoasting all over the place to settle down into a healthy rhythm again. So even though I’m ready to get my stuff [back] together, my body is still reacting to a 12-day emotional binge of junk food and self-medicating.
I had some personal stuff going on and I just went right back to the food — to all those habits that come automatically when I don’t have it all together. When I don’t think through the consequences. Honestly, though, I was at a place where I’m not sure even thinking about it would have done any good.
Once again I’m on the losing end and I’m not talking about weight right now. I’m talking about losing myself, losing control, losing what matters to me, losing faith, losing direction.
Not to worry though. I’ve made the turn and I’m heading back into the direction I came from and will be my old [new, actually!] self in a bit.
Still searching for normal. I actually thought long and hard about going to a 12-step program on Sunday. Because I know one thing right now and that’s pretty much step one.
Admit that you, of yourself, are powerless to overcome your addictions and that your life has become unmanageable.
Admit that I, of myself, am powerless to overcome my addictions and that my life has become unmanageable.