It’s 4:57am. I should not be awake. Not sure if it’s the new-ish meds I’m on just messing with me, or indigestion from the KFC I ate for dinner, or my body just being weird.
I ate too little for lunch today, so I was ravenous after work. I also found out I got a job interview, which I’m excited about, so I felt entitled to celebrate. I headed to the KFC near my office. I should have just bought a one-piece meal but no, I got a meal with four (small) pieces of chicken and chips. Much more than I needed. I told myself I would take half the chicken home, and paused when I reached my self-imposed limit. But then I felt the rushing and the panic and the old what-the-hell, rebellious feeling, and resumed eating until it was all gone. And then quickly bought and ate two (disappointingly bland) chocolate biscuits on the way home.
I think I’ve been mentally restricting. That is the problem. Isabel Foxen-Duke would say that I’m not truly allowing myself to eat what I want. I just want to get skinny again, so I feel guilty any time I eat stuff that is junky. “Play food.”
At least I’m riding my bike again. That’s something. I want to start serious yoga but how do I do that when I’m trying to save money? How do I live a full life in a wildly expensive city while trying to save? I need to work it out because I can’t keep throwing my money away. I need to be a big girl and take responsibility for my financial health. Nobody is going to save me; I must save myself. Took me long enough to face up to it! But it’s not too late (she said desperately, trying to convince herself).
I need to read Intuitive Eating from cover to cover. The whole thing. And try to actually do it. Mindful eating is hard sometimes though, depending what mood I’m in. Sometimes, it really pisses me off. I never had to eat mindfully before I developed an ED; I just ate what I wanted, when I wanted, how I wanted, and thought no more about it. Sigh. How I wish I could go back to that, but it’s like wanting to shut the lid on bloody Pandora’s box.
I need to read that self-help book Starting Monday, too, and do the exercises, when I have the time. I keep throwing endless tantrums through the medium of food, acting out against the mental restriction and because I am frustrated that I have caused myself to gain so much weight. These tantrums get me nowhere.
The fact is, it needs to be OK for me to eat KFC, or whatever junky thing I fancy. It has to be. I don’t eat that stuff often, so I want to be able to have it and enjoy it when I really feel like it. But I also need to be a big girl and eat it slowly and mindfully, and choose a small meal in the first place. I know that one piece and and a small chips would be enough, so that is what I ought to get in future. Then I can eat it all, enjoy it and not feel bad. Especially since they don’t have chicken salt in this country, so the chips are nowhere near as good as they are back home anyway!
It is sad that I have to learn by trial and error on such a precious thing as my body. My mistakes have consequences. It’s like being a sculptor but not doing a test run first in clay – it’s working straight with fucking marble or whatever, before I know what I’m actually doing with it, or how to achieve the result I want.
I need to learn how to stop having these tantrums. I want to level up. I can do it. I just have to work out how (she said, terrified and not really believing, but still determined).
And now, to sleep.