So. A couple of days later, I have moved on from the binge. But moved on to what? I feel as though, food-wise, I’m floating in space. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m not tethered to anything.
When I arrived in the UK six weeks ago I was committed to losing weight. I am not overweight, but my binges and mindless eating had caused me to gain a few unwanted kilos. I went on a high-protein, low-carb diet, which I had done before. And it worked. I lost weight. I was so proud of myself. I felt calm.
But then the elements of the perfect storm came together. I had a stressful day, and was upset. A guy on the street offered me a free burrito. (A new Mexican restaurant had opened around the corner from work.) A colleague offered me a hot-cross bun. Low-carb diet said no but emotionally vulnerable Sparkleguts said yes. And then I was given a box full of sweets. All the elements were there. And I surrendered.
Part of my problem is that I lack faith. I have gained and lost the same 10 kilos so many times in the past three years. I know, logically, that weight loss does work for me. I am physically no different to anybody else. But, for some reason, when I am going well and get to a certain stage where the cellulite is diminishing and I am succeeding, I freak out and self-sabotage with a massive binge. Or binges. I have done the same thing at least three times. For some reason, I don’t believe I can achieve my goal weight, and I don’t feel as though I deserve it. And if I don’t believe I can do it, how will I ever succeed?
I hope to get in to see a GP next week, and I will ask for a referral to a psychologist. I need help with this. I am tired of being trapped in this way. I am tired of this self-destruction. I need a concrete plan in place for the next time I get to the same stage, so I don’t revert to my old behaviours.
In the meantime, I just have to try to be sensible. I am very much a black-and-white, all-or-nothing kinda girl when it comes to food. I don’t know how to be relaxed about it. I am going to some parties tonight, and the prospect of party food and alcohol stresses me out. “How will I ever lose weight if I keep drinking and eating unhealthy food?” a big part of me wonders. “How will I ever get there?” And the fact is, I don’t know. But I will strive for balance. I will eat some food, but not too much. I will have some drinks, but not too many. I’ll try not to worry too much beyond that. I will try to eat mindfully and check into my body to make sure I really am hungry before I eat. I will not be “missing out” if I don’t stuff myself silly at the food table.
I don’t know why I think food is so exciting. Sure, it’s yummy, and I am a foodie, and I love it. But it is just food. It has become clear to me that I use food as a big ol’ crutch, to support me and lift me up when I feel down. And I’m pretty sure that is not right.