Avoiding Posting

It's been a tough couple of days, making it difficult to post. Unfortunately, I haven't been very good with the binge-eating, with one day culminating in a whopping 6,000 calories. I binged at work--ate 7 fucking bagels. Couldn't stop at the cinnamon raisin and the chocolate chip--no, had to consume a blueberry, a plain, a whole wheat. I compensated the next day by waking up at 4:30 am to exercise and that night, I was so fucking tired, I could barely think. Then I realized I couldn't fit into my jeans or skinny shorts anymore, and I just about had it. I wanted to rip the fat off my thighs and growing lovehandles. I thrashed on the floor in disgust.

But today was a good day. I didn't binge-eat...well, I binged a little this morning but for the most part was able to control it. I feel good. I'm below 2,000 calories today, which I think is a good thing. I keep trying to read positive messages about getting "back on the wagon" because if I keep a positive mindset, I feel like I can hold the anxiety at bay. The impulses.

The thing about binge-eating is that I've become a nutrition genius. I know that protein takes more calories to digest than fat and carbs, that carbs are less efficiently absorbed during rigorous exercise, that people reach weight-loss plateaus, etc. I know the science and marketing behind today's nutritional guidelines, having read countless research papers. But it doesn't make me feel any better. It doesn't make the anxiety go away, and I still automatically count calories.

I used to read all these articles and hear about people who had issues with alcoholism and drug addictions and thought--can't they control it? I'm not thinking that now--I'm living it. What if someone were holding a gun to your head, you ask? Well, I wouldn't binge then but I can guarantee you that I've placed myself in many life-threatening situations where I shouldn't have binged but did. I once ate a full box of pastries, half a cake, a whole fucking tray of pasta, and some Chinese takeout in the car--I was swerving in and out of the lanes, barely looking at the roads, sticky and salty fingers sliding across the steering wheel. I heard car honks, but they were drowned out by my screaming and crying, as I continued to shove food into my face like an invisible entity was torturing me. Luckily, I haven't had one of those episodes in awhile, but that's just one glimpse into addiction and its defiance of reason.