Tweet
I binge eat. ALOT. A typical binge, for me consists of approximately 5000-6000 calories. That's a brand new package of cookies, a box or two of gift chocolates, an entire loaf of bread...ONTOP of my 3 big meals a day. I did that pretty much everyday from September to now. Thus my gain.
I've been reading the posts about emotional eating, and I feel better knowing I'm not alone.
I have a hard time identifying EXACTLY why I have this tendency to sabotage myself, but I think it's mainly because of the lack of love in my life.
Please excuse me while I sound like therapy patient.
Yes, the one guy I've ever loved in my life left me. The reason I got together with him was because he pursued me using every technique in the book. It took me months to accept him because I thought it was too good to be true. This guy is a perfect ten. Good looking, a gentleman, a ballroom dancer, a hockey player, and a family man. I hated myself and thought I was too ugly to go out with him. But being with him, I saw that I could be attractive. And my self-love grew (slowly) as my love for him did as well. Now he's gone. I wasn't secure enough about myself to give all that I could in a relationship.
At around the same time, my dad got sick. With sickness comes anger. I feared going home. I only cry and binge at home.
For a year I wandered around without any meaning, mindlessly going to work, then school, etc etc. I never wanted to wake up and get out of the house.
I have a good relationship with my mom. I'd spend nights and nights hugging her. Just sitting on my bed, hugging her and telling her how important she is to me. I'd tell her now much she meant to me because I meant it to be the last time I'd ever hold her. My will to live diminished with each passing day. Why do people say, "time heals"? Time only makes things worse for me. I used to feel warm and protected hugging her, but now I feel nothing. I'm numb. I am also afraid to do this every night. I hate seeing her cry with me.
How I'd like to feel loved. I know my mom loves me, and my friends do as well. But I just don't feel the same warmth anymore. I am hollow and cold.
And when I read these posts about those of you who are married, and have the support of your husbands, I'm envious. I even wonder how it's possible to feel emotionally empty. Forgive me for saying that, as I know there's more to life than being married. It's just that, in my eyes, so many of you are so fortunate.
Then there's me. I feel my weight creep up with each passing day. I haven't even started induction yet. I don't know why. I just feel scared. I'm not sure what I'm afraid of. I know I'll be successful. I've had great success in the past. But something's holding me back.
I hate living like this.
I don't want to see my doctor anymore. Each time I see her, I seem to get worse. She makes my case sound so grave. Half a year ago, she said I had to be hospitalized before I hurt myself. She says something similar time each time I see her for a non-depression related maladie. I'm so deathly afraid of her.
I think the way to solve my problem is weight loss. I honestly think all would be better if I just lost the damned fat that represents my failure in life. Each f*cking pound that represents how I messed up my chance to be loved, each f*cking pound that represents how I dance less and less, each f*cking pound that makes me disqualify myself from dance competitions, each f*cking pound that distances me from my friends and family, and each f*cking pound that pushes me closer to ending my f*cking life once and for f*cking all.
Excuse my language.
I'm going to start induction tomorrow. I'll use all my will, my strength, and get through it. I just reread DANDR this morning.
I've been reading the posts about emotional eating, and I feel better knowing I'm not alone.
I have a hard time identifying EXACTLY why I have this tendency to sabotage myself, but I think it's mainly because of the lack of love in my life.
Please excuse me while I sound like therapy patient.
Yes, the one guy I've ever loved in my life left me. The reason I got together with him was because he pursued me using every technique in the book. It took me months to accept him because I thought it was too good to be true. This guy is a perfect ten. Good looking, a gentleman, a ballroom dancer, a hockey player, and a family man. I hated myself and thought I was too ugly to go out with him. But being with him, I saw that I could be attractive. And my self-love grew (slowly) as my love for him did as well. Now he's gone. I wasn't secure enough about myself to give all that I could in a relationship.
At around the same time, my dad got sick. With sickness comes anger. I feared going home. I only cry and binge at home.
For a year I wandered around without any meaning, mindlessly going to work, then school, etc etc. I never wanted to wake up and get out of the house.
I have a good relationship with my mom. I'd spend nights and nights hugging her. Just sitting on my bed, hugging her and telling her how important she is to me. I'd tell her now much she meant to me because I meant it to be the last time I'd ever hold her. My will to live diminished with each passing day. Why do people say, "time heals"? Time only makes things worse for me. I used to feel warm and protected hugging her, but now I feel nothing. I'm numb. I am also afraid to do this every night. I hate seeing her cry with me.
How I'd like to feel loved. I know my mom loves me, and my friends do as well. But I just don't feel the same warmth anymore. I am hollow and cold.
And when I read these posts about those of you who are married, and have the support of your husbands, I'm envious. I even wonder how it's possible to feel emotionally empty. Forgive me for saying that, as I know there's more to life than being married. It's just that, in my eyes, so many of you are so fortunate.
Then there's me. I feel my weight creep up with each passing day. I haven't even started induction yet. I don't know why. I just feel scared. I'm not sure what I'm afraid of. I know I'll be successful. I've had great success in the past. But something's holding me back.
I hate living like this.
I don't want to see my doctor anymore. Each time I see her, I seem to get worse. She makes my case sound so grave. Half a year ago, she said I had to be hospitalized before I hurt myself. She says something similar time each time I see her for a non-depression related maladie. I'm so deathly afraid of her.
I think the way to solve my problem is weight loss. I honestly think all would be better if I just lost the damned fat that represents my failure in life. Each f*cking pound that represents how I messed up my chance to be loved, each f*cking pound that represents how I dance less and less, each f*cking pound that makes me disqualify myself from dance competitions, each f*cking pound that distances me from my friends and family, and each f*cking pound that pushes me closer to ending my f*cking life once and for f*cking all.
Excuse my language.
I'm going to start induction tomorrow. I'll use all my will, my strength, and get through it. I just reread DANDR this morning.
. But then that'd give him another reason to yell at me.
My Dad is the exact same way and has been my entire life. I turned to food and school to hide from him and generally laid as low as possible to stay under his radar. I would spend hour after hour in my room studying and secretly eating stuff. Oh, the mass of wrappers that would accumulate under my bed as a child and teen. The only positive to come from that is that I became a college professor at 22 (not too shabby), but my weight was a disaster. 
(270)--
Comment