madermouse's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- June 5th, 2001 Today I pulled out my first food diary, the one I wrote back in November when I wasn't counting calories, but when I first "thought" about changing my diet. It kind of shocked me, how far I've come. An excerpt reads; "11/21/00 - Hungry since I woke up. Wanted eggs, bacon, toast. Every moment is excruciating. I want to feel stuffed with cheese & pizza & chips & dips & all sorts of crap food. I feel like I'm having the holiday fears - knowing I get no turkey, no stuffing, no mashed potatoes, no gravy for God's sake! No pies, no cookies or cakes or homemade candies! I spent $$ on groceries instead of my counseling sessions today. Feeling extremely "pack-rattish" with regards to food....stocking the fridge and cupboards. Feel freakish for acting this way. I hate being hungry. I really hate it. I feel like such an addict. Its so much easier to just eat what I want, when I want it. Then I'm always appeased, always comfortable, comfortably numb". Listen to the angst, the frustration, and the fear in that paragraph. I re-read this passage and felt a lump in my throat. Those memories came back to me, hard and fast, like a speeding car headed for a cliff. I remember feeling crazy, insane, like I wanted to climb the walls, tear out my hair, or run screaming down a busy street. I wanted anything that would take me away from this place where I felt true hunger for the first time in 15 years. My stomach actually growled a few times, and I remember totally freaking out! I didn't know how to process this. I had eaten with such frequency throughout my teenage and adult life, that I literally never actually felt a hunger pang. When I did feel one, it scared the hell out of me, and I'm still not sure why. Its amazing how much I've changed, how much I've learned about myself. I had nearly forgotten these agonizing moments when I was trying to make those first few changes. Becoming aware, becoming conscience of what I put into my body was a painful process (for me). Keeping a journal has helped me know how far I've come. On days where I look in the mirror, and see hanging skin and miles of stretch marks, I MUST remember how far I've come. Writing down my pain, and my triumphs, has helped me remember the past - has helped me see into the future with hope. Now I listen. My body tells me when I need to eat - those hunger pangs come each day when my body needs nourishment. I maintain an awareness of what I put into my body, of how I move each day, and how my actions contribute to my future. But most importantly, I'm not paralyzed by fear anymore. I'm not a stagnant, still pond aching for fresh water. I'm a river, raging down mountains, through valleys and forests, crashing off rocks into beautiful waterfalls that pour out to the sea. I'm alive again, and loving it. 11:56 a.m. - August 05, 2003 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||