madermouse's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 1/7/02 As the title of this entry suggests, I must confess. I thought about it all day - about NOT confessing. I considered letting the illusion of my strong will and inspiring story continue out here in cyberland. I toyed with the idea of writing a quick entry in which the faults were not revealed, in which the cracks in the cake that is me were simply smoothed over and filled in with sweet icing of lies. But my guilt brings me back to this page, back to writing, back to where I know I must always return to - the truth. Now, onto the confessing part. My entry upon my return from vacation was particularly heartfelt and full of promises to myself. I said - a new life, a new way of being, a different way of handling my diet! I said, scrap the food diary and the endless tedious task of counting calories! I said exercise 5 days a week - the way a normal person would - instead of obsessing. Live a normal life instead of the life of a woman on a diet, I said. And I truly meant every word, and I felt each of these statements were real and everything was going to be different now. I had the best of intentions, and its with great sorrow that I regret to inform you all, that I have not and don�t think I can live up to even one of my self promises made that day. Last week I watched the scale inch up, slowly, day by day. (This after promising that I would quit hopping on the scale ever 5 hours...) Yet I continued to eat. Suddenly, not writing anything down was like I had given myself permission to consume. And I consumed....and I consumed. Finally, Friday, I gave my scale to my neighbor and made her promise not to return it until January 21st. I made her swear that even if I asked her - begged her - for it, that she wouldn�t relent. But the weekend was ahead of me, and without the scale I really let myself go. Saturday I did manage to drag myself to my step class. You should�ve saw me - I sucked. And about half way through I was so tired I could barely keep up with even the basic moves. I ate a chicken strip and a scoop of macaroni and cheese from the deli case by 10am. Then I met my friend and had Thai food with spring rolls and and espresso - all before 3pm! Dinner was steak and gravy and potatoes and half a pan of apricot bars that I made and bread & butter to get the excess gravy left in the pan - of course. I woke up in the middle of the night on Saturday and had a feast of peanut butter by the spoonfuls, slices of cheese, apricot bars (the other half a pan) and leftovers from dinner. The next day (Sunday) I awoke to a stomach ache, and a head ache and a very depressed mental state. I suddenly felt like the word�s biggest loser. So what did I do? I ate more. I made a big breakfast with an omelet, potatoes and juice. My husband was like, �what the hell!?� Of course after that I was too tired and full to exercise...making my total for last week a whopping 3 times. Lunch consisted of a whole small pizza, which I managed to ingest all by myself. By the time early evening rolled around, I was considering quitting my diet altogether. I mean, I�d gone nearly 5 days of eating whatever I wanted....and skipped my exercise like it meant nothing and the scale was showing it. After all my efforts, all my self-promises, I was still failing. I felt like I was destined to fail. And so I went to the store.... Of course.... Where I happened across the 50%-off Christmas candy isle. BIG mistake. Did you know they make Reeses peanut butter santas? These puppies are like the size of your palm, and twice as thick. I bought that and a peanut butter tree for good measure. I got into the car, tore open the package (like a starving maniac) and bit into the tree. I realized from the get-go the chocolate was going to get in the way of my whole peanut butter craving. So I squeezed the Santa until the chocolate crumbled around the peanut butter log that was inside - which I promptly ate. It was disgusting, really...super sweet and very salty and gritty. But I was binging, full-force binging - something I haven�t really done since I started this diet. There was no stopping me. I went to the bar where Thomas worked and ordered a pint of Black Butte Porter Ale - and then I ordered another. I ate chips and salsa, and a tortilla with cheese and ham and real sour cream... and I had a little sack of peanuts. By the time I left there - two hours later, I felt lower than I�d felt in a long long time. I felt like the long string of poop that trails after a fish....vile, nasty and disgusting. I felt like a shit-heal. I thought of all my readers and how I was such a phony, such a fake. I thought of my mom and dad and how disappointed they would be if they came across me in such a state. I thought of my husband, who�s downcast eyes showed sorrow when I asked him for all those late-night snacks....you could tell it was killing him to comply. I thought of myself, of how far I�d come and how it all meant nothing to me now. That I could balloon up to 375lbs in 6 months if I wanted to....that I could be free from all this work, all this effort. I went to bed sick and crying and exhausted. That was my weekend....pathetic. That night I had a dream. I was at my mom�s & dad�s house again, only I was living there this time. I went to flip on the kitchen light but realized it was in the middle of the night, and stopped myself. I grabbed a chair - and a spoon - and opened the fridge door. The light spilled out onto the tile floors. I sat down in front of the fridge, its coolness wafting out at me.... and I started to eat. I ate and ate and ate - opening packages of pepperoni and rolling them in slices of American cheese. I took ranch dressing and dumped it over broccoli. I munched pickles and olives and deli meat and leftovers. I ate slices of pizza from the day before, and I tore open package after package of string cheese. I opened a box of cream cheese and ate it with a spoon! I opened the meat drawer to find a package of liverworst - an old favorite of mine. I grabbed the Miracle Whip and spooned it onto the chub of liverworst - and ate at it with a spoon. When all the mayo was eaten off the top layer....I spooned more on. Then I woke up. Why? Why was I doing this to myself? After all this success? After all this hard work, after everything I�ve learned about myself and all that I�ve accomplished, why was I doing this again? I lay there in bed this morning asking myself these questions. Amidst all this, I still was debating on whether or not I should get up and exercise... Can you believe that? There I am, laying in bed after a weekend of binging and feeling like total dog shit, and I�m thinking I stalled. I went to the bathroom. I clipped my nails. Time passed. I watered my plants and picked up the living room. I looked at the clock - it was only 8:30am. I still had time to do a 30 minute workout and get to work on time... And so I made the best choice I�ve made in days. I did it. And I�ve had a perfect eating day, and I�ve struggled with true hunger all day long... my stomach must be the size of a basketball right now from being so stretched out. So its one day at a time again. One minute, one hour at a time. Its back to basics. Its pulling out my stupid food journal and keeping track again and counting calories again. Its exercising 6 days a week again. The only thing I�m not going back to, is the scale. My neighbor really does have it until the 21st, and I know I can�t ask her for it back... It has been 3 weeks since my last confession....and I have sinned. 1:13 p.m. - 1/7/02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||