I've spent the past two weeks scrutinizing my feelings whenever I feel like bingeing or eating when I'm not hungry, with help from the book French Toast for Breakfast. Holy cow -- just about every feeling makes me want to eat. How did I get this way? So far I have:
loneliness: when I feel lonely for dh, lonely because I feel misunderstood, lonely because I feel as though I'm the only person I know with eating issues
boredom: well, that feelings speaks for itself!
fatigue: it's very, very difficult for me to admit to the "weakness" of needing to rest or -- even worse -- needing a nap.
procrastination: so much easier to eat something than to move onto the 8 million projects needing my attention
avoidance of intimacy -- especially sexual intimacy: I still find it difficult to just say no to my husband, even 2 1/2 years after our separation. I also still find it difficult to share my true feelings. I did finally 'fess up to my bowling hatred, but told him I wanted to keep doing it because he got so much enjoyment out of it. Anyway, I digress, as usual
as a retreat from people: it's so much easier to obsess about my relationship with food rather than risking rejection from people I'd like to be friends with
happiness: I'm not sure if I believe that happiness is limited and needs to be gobbled up before it ends or if I believe I don't deserve happiness and I should binge it away and return to misery -- perhaps a bit of both
disappointment: disappointment in food (things that didn't taste as great as I thought they would or should or having to eat a dinner I didn't particularly care for) or disappointment when things don't work out the way I'd like
not really a feeling, but lack of structure: evenings and weekends when I don't have anything scheduled
also not a feeling, but I use it as a transition to help switch gears between activities (see procrastination)
I occasionally do "preventative" bingeing because I'm afraid that I'll get hungry and won't be able to eat anything. When I look at that in black and white it looks downright silly. No one ever starved to death in the space of a few hours, or even a few days. At the time I'm feeling the fear, however, it's very real and a very strong drive to resist.
Then, there's the "what the hell" feeling...is that a feeling?
So, I thought I was doing well and hadn't binged or even overeaten for about 10 days. Then Friday we went out to dinner to Red Robin. I was really nervous about it because they have gigantic portions AND bring you unlimited french fries, starting the minute you sit down. We got there and I asked my MIL to tell the waitress we didn't want any fries except with our meal. Then R wanted to order from the adult menu. I knew she wouldn't eat it all, but figured I'd just order a kid's meal and eat that. Our food came and my burger was cold. I sent it back and ate a few onion rings and fries while waiting. Burger #2 came and it was slathered in mayo -- ick. I sent that one back and ate some more fries. Burger #3 came and it had no onion, but I took it anyway. I wasn't really hungry anymore, but ate almost all of it. Then I was quite full. Not like Thanksgiving, but definitely more full than usual. DANGER ZONE! I KNOW this is a dangerous time for me, and when we got home, I spent the whole time I was walking the dog reciting to myself all of the reasons I shouldn't eat anything else (T was on his annual football weekend with the guys).
It almost worked. It worked until I got home and R was still awake. I KNEW I should have just gone upstairs to bed and made her go to, but I asked her if she wanted dessert. She said yes and that was allll she wrote. I ate about a pint of ice cream and polished off 3 Pop Tarts (only a bit of ice cream in front of her -- the rest after she went to bed). I was pretty upset with myself, but determined not to let this lapse be a relapse. So on Saturday, I ate when hungry, stopped when satisfied, kept busy, napped when I was tired, and felt much better.
Yesterday I was fine until after dinner. Again I had gotten a bit too full. I'm not sure why since I really didn't eat much, but it just happened, almost before I knew it. I sat there at the table convincing myself that I didn't want a second roll. Hello?!? I was already full! We were celebrating two family birthdays and I mananged to eat three pieces of cake, several chocolate chip cookies, and a dish of ice cream before I stopped and told myself to CUT IT OUT. I was totally exhibiting "what the hell" behavior Friday and yesterday. I think it was because I weighed myself on Thursday. I was happy with the number, which brought up all kinds of "diety" thoughts again. Okay, this is the deal: I WILL NOT weigh myself again. Ever. Ever. Ever.
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