Small Victories

I’m still lying to avoid a lot of events – just don’t want to be seen at this size – but it’s been 21 days since my last binge and I’m starting to feel more like myself. (I nearly made it to 30 days while I was traveling, but there were some London slips.)

Some of the old familiar feelings are returning, both good and bad. I skipped having a drink at an event I went to Tuesday because there was just no point in crummy event white wine (good). But then I was almost relieved when someone canceled drinks on me on Thursday so I could not be tempted and stay home and eat a clean dinner (not necessarily good, because it very easily tips into obsession). Ditto last night, when an acquaintance-friend of the sort I only ever get cocktails with asked if I was free at the last minute. I was, but I’d had plenty of drinks the night before, I was sweaty from Pilates, it was pouring rain, I wanted to finish Purity and I frankly did not feel like going out to Williamsburg and making conversation with someone I’ve only hung out with about five times and don't imagine I'll ever be particularly close with. I’m of two minds whether my decision to stay home was good or bad, and I guess it was neither. Yes, the controlling part of me liked staying home and eating a clean dinner. But I used to have trouble staying home if ever the option presented itself to go out, no matter how unappealing said option was, so… good on the whole?

Also last night, I was about to have a tablespoon of almond butter because I was convinced I was too hungry to sleep without it. I had the spoon in my hand and then I thought: Why don’t you just go ahead and brush your teeth and see if you can live without it? Maybe I won’t always be able to, but last night I could. It felt like a tiny victory, if not quite a turn in the tide of these past couple of years of bingeing and gaining weight.

Yesterday’s trip to the farmers’ market to buy eggs felt like another small victory. I may have mentioned here the shame I feel about how little cooking I do, and how my every interaction with food is designed to minimize the time I spent around it when not actually eating it. Since I got back from London, I've been making myself eggs every morning. Going to the farmers’ market for them felt like the antithesis of bingeing, in that if bingeing is about as much as possible as fast as possible, a farmers’ market is about having the best possible version of whatever it is you’re going to eat because you’re not going to have a lot of it. I even allowed myself to imagine there might come a day where I know all these vendors and chat to them. 

Day 21.