Thursday 29 July 2010

Ready, Willing and Able

When we last saw our heroine, she was attempting to claw her way out of a vat of buttercream icing spiked with despair. Did she make it?

Honestly, I shouldn't joke about it.

I know I have written before about feeling like – and being genuinely terrified – I will never be able to stop eating. Much as I feel like the boy crying wolf every time, every single time I can see the pointed teeth poised to snap my head off. Seriously. And the fear does not seem to be easing with time or experience, because bingeing seems to be like the whack-a-mole game at the fairground: I manage to learn to handle one type of situation, only to have a problem pop up somewhere (often unexpected). Plus, my history of weight loss followed by bingeing my way up (or up past) my start weight casts a very long shadow. It is true that this time around I have (a) lost more weight than I've ever lost before and (b) kept (most of) it off for (years) longer than I ever have before. But the recent severity of the problem so mirrors the way I eventually put on all the weight (and stopped even trying to help myself) that it's hard not to be fearful. Nor is the reason I've fingered for the resurgence of the problem offering much hope I'll be able to stop the behavior soon. (For the record, the reason is what I'll loosely call general internal rot, possibly to be described in a separate post.)

So I arrived at the Warminster train station Sunday night, full, bloated, and with face broken out. (It was sod's law, then, that there was a very cute posh boy who's an adviser to Afghanistan's Provincial Reconstruction Team meeting someone arriving for the diplomatic part of the exercise.) I then proceeded to faff around at headquarters not accomplishing very much, but not eating anything else, either.

Monday morning I set my alarm for daybreak, planning to squeeze in a run, but I woke up feeling exhausted and bloated. Usually I push through that and go anyway, but I had no will to do so.

As is typical for me post-binge, I felt hungry all day – not good when there is plentiful junk food. But I made the best choices I could, told myself even if I were eating more (and fattier) food than I would be at home it was still better than a binge, and – crucially – managed not to panic about what I was eating, in what portions, and the fact that I'd be unlikely to get any binge weight off this week. (Irrational or no, I always feel like the longer binge weight hangs around, the greater chance it has of sticking around permanently.)

I tried to go for a run Monday night, but for the first time in as long as I can remember, my body just wouldn't do it. I can't remember ever getting myself out for a workout and having to give up after five minutes, but that's exactly what happened.

Again I panicked. I went for the world's slowest walk, thinking all the while about how little I felt like getting up the next day and running. I thought about how little I wanted to get up and run the rest of the week – or hell, ever again. I wondered if I'd ever run again. I worked myself up into a frenzy, thinking about the puddings that would no doubt be served the next day and what would happen if I binged all week and did no exercise. I thought about how tired I was of fighting; how much I just wanted to lay down on the ground and just give up.

I freaked out and freaked out and freaked out, and then came a great moment of calm: I realized that even if I never lose another pound that doesn't mean I need to gain another.

I realized that even if I don't exercise all week or all month that that doesn't mean I never will again.

And I realized that when it doesn't feel like I can do anything right or good for myself, all I can do is do the best I can.

The next morning, Tuesday morning, I popped out of bed at 5 am ready and willing to run. And I feel both lucky and grateful that I was able.

Postscript: I managed to run both Wednesday and this morning. Food has been a struggle, since the recent binges have left me a higher-than-usual craving for junk food and sugar, and everyone around me is eating tons of pudding. But – as I did Monday – I've made the best choices I could, and stuck to fruit for dessert. Three days clean.

2 comments:

  1. You expect so much from yourself! A slow walk or any trip to the gym are really great choices. One meal, one step, one call to a friend, one choice at a time will get you where you want to be.

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  2. I agree with Murgatroidgerow. Just wanted to post, since I've been mostly reading and not posting. Big hugs. I'm not a binger, per se, but I can always relate to what you're going through. I, however, haven't conquered a damn thing, like you have.

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