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I weigh 273 right now and I was once doing well on this WOE. I had told myself that I had conquered the emotional binger and that all was well. However, it was a lie.
I have been an emotional eater for as long as I could remember. My pap (grandfather) was dying of cancer and the first memories I have of him are eating fried potatoes with him every night drenched in ketchup. I loved my Pap…at four I was already connecting food with love.
In school, I was the nerdy chubby kid. I was not really big then, not even the biggest girl in class, but I was a sneaky emotional eater. I would trade my food at school for other worse food. "Hey, I'll trade you my Jell-O for your fries".
I would hide snacks under the bed so when Mom and Dad fought I could stay in my room and "medicate" myself. I would eat and escape into my world of books. TV was not in my room and I love to read so I escaped that way.
I got bigger and bigger and bigger. I graduated high school in a size 18 and four years later, I left college in a 22. Throw in a couple of bad relationships and the pounds packed on. I weighed 311 at my highest. I could barely fit into a 30 then.
I met Josh and while he says he loves me no matter what, the truth is that my weight inhibits us in many ways. Nope, can't go to Kings Island..I won't fit in the seat. Nope, can't ride the chair life in Gatlinburg with my new husband cause we both won't fit (he is also big and dieting). Nope, can't do the go-carts cause I am afraid my butt won't fit. Fly in a plane, well I had to do that one since it was for work, but I was scared every minute of making someone else feel uncomfortable so I chose to sit next to the children flying alone.
I started this in a 28 and I am down to 26s now. Emotional eater… you bet.
I have tried to be anorexic to get control over my food, but instead of not eating, I would eat and then be sick. So, yes I guess a 273 pound person can be bulimic. I never thought of it that way, but I guess that is my label.
This past month mother nature and life have thrown me some curve balls and I have reverted to my old way of medicating myself. I have eaten low-carb stuff until I could eat no more. It did nothing to numb the pain like good, old greasy home food.
So on Monday, I ate a cheeseburger with bread. I ate a corn dog with real ketchup. I ate Cool Ranch Doritos. I ate a Snickers bar. I ate a honeybun. I drank skim milk (weird I know, but I can't drink the other). I did this in one evening when my husband was out with friends. I ate all this while in the vehicle so no evidence would come home with me. I felt great for all of 10 minutes until I realized what I had done and came home and took a shower to get the smell of "bad food" off me and I crawled into bed.
I stayed there all night long. I got up yesterday morning and did a little work, but at 11 am I crawled back into bed. I got up at 5 pm and made an Atkins friendly meal. I ate it. Then, I snuck some peanut butter. Then, I ate some pork rinds. Then more peanut butter. I drank two or three diet cokes. I binged again. My husband found the empty peanut butter jar and got upset so when we went to check on a computer he was fixing I threw up as much as I could.
So, today I am up and going. I have had two hot dogs, 1 slice of cheese, and 48 oz. of water. So far so good. However, the evening is coming and with it the demons that conquer me.
I am at my wit's end and I do not want to fail. I want to succeed. I can do it. I really can. So, what is wrong with me?
Deb
I have been an emotional eater for as long as I could remember. My pap (grandfather) was dying of cancer and the first memories I have of him are eating fried potatoes with him every night drenched in ketchup. I loved my Pap…at four I was already connecting food with love.
In school, I was the nerdy chubby kid. I was not really big then, not even the biggest girl in class, but I was a sneaky emotional eater. I would trade my food at school for other worse food. "Hey, I'll trade you my Jell-O for your fries".
I would hide snacks under the bed so when Mom and Dad fought I could stay in my room and "medicate" myself. I would eat and escape into my world of books. TV was not in my room and I love to read so I escaped that way.
I got bigger and bigger and bigger. I graduated high school in a size 18 and four years later, I left college in a 22. Throw in a couple of bad relationships and the pounds packed on. I weighed 311 at my highest. I could barely fit into a 30 then.
I met Josh and while he says he loves me no matter what, the truth is that my weight inhibits us in many ways. Nope, can't go to Kings Island..I won't fit in the seat. Nope, can't ride the chair life in Gatlinburg with my new husband cause we both won't fit (he is also big and dieting). Nope, can't do the go-carts cause I am afraid my butt won't fit. Fly in a plane, well I had to do that one since it was for work, but I was scared every minute of making someone else feel uncomfortable so I chose to sit next to the children flying alone.
I started this in a 28 and I am down to 26s now. Emotional eater… you bet.
I have tried to be anorexic to get control over my food, but instead of not eating, I would eat and then be sick. So, yes I guess a 273 pound person can be bulimic. I never thought of it that way, but I guess that is my label.
This past month mother nature and life have thrown me some curve balls and I have reverted to my old way of medicating myself. I have eaten low-carb stuff until I could eat no more. It did nothing to numb the pain like good, old greasy home food.
So on Monday, I ate a cheeseburger with bread. I ate a corn dog with real ketchup. I ate Cool Ranch Doritos. I ate a Snickers bar. I ate a honeybun. I drank skim milk (weird I know, but I can't drink the other). I did this in one evening when my husband was out with friends. I ate all this while in the vehicle so no evidence would come home with me. I felt great for all of 10 minutes until I realized what I had done and came home and took a shower to get the smell of "bad food" off me and I crawled into bed.
I stayed there all night long. I got up yesterday morning and did a little work, but at 11 am I crawled back into bed. I got up at 5 pm and made an Atkins friendly meal. I ate it. Then, I snuck some peanut butter. Then, I ate some pork rinds. Then more peanut butter. I drank two or three diet cokes. I binged again. My husband found the empty peanut butter jar and got upset so when we went to check on a computer he was fixing I threw up as much as I could.
So, today I am up and going. I have had two hot dogs, 1 slice of cheese, and 48 oz. of water. So far so good. However, the evening is coming and with it the demons that conquer me.
I am at my wit's end and I do not want to fail. I want to succeed. I can do it. I really can. So, what is wrong with me?
Deb
(270)--
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