Stomach

Well, here I am, back in London after a weekend of indulgence in Belgium.
I am overeating today but I’m trying to stop it from turning into an all-out binge. I can have something if I crave it. In this case it’s a big fat scone with jam and cream, and a cup of tea.

I spent the afternoon at work reading about sugar addiction. I know refined sugar is terribly destructive, and doesn’t give the body anything. Anything good, anyway. I wouldn’t say I’m an addict, but I’m dependent on it to a degree, and it is usually my binge food of choice.

I would love to give up refined sugar for good, and just say no to processed, sweetened garbage that actively causes harm, despite its innocent appearance and comforting connotations.

I could probably do it, too, if I were in the right frame of mind. You wouldn’t know it from my binges but I’m into health food, and nutrition, and creating “treats” that are actually good for you.

I could even go without grog, I think. Alcohol is poison. I love wine and a boozy night as much as anyone but the older I get, the more I think about the consequences and how it just makes no sense.

I am considering paying for an online seminar series about beating binge eating by tuning into one’s emotional needs. Because the course creator might be right in saying that is the way forward. I haven’t worked out how to meet those needs, and I might not be able to stop binge eating until I do.

It’s expensive, but I think it might help. I also need a therapist – like, yesterday. In the meantime I’ll just try my best, alternating between binge periods and normal eating, and trying not to beat myself up too much when I overeat, and trying to be OK with the weight that I see creeping on. Harm minimisation, I guess you’d call it.

I know it won’t always be this way. I hope I can get to a stage where I believe I actually deserve good health. That would be nice. It would be wonderful.

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