My "Eating Disorder"

In high school, I stayed steady at about 148 or so during soccer season. Ha! Its funny that I thought I was chubby then. Obviously, I gained the "freshman 15," even though I didn't go to college. It was no big deal to me at the time, "15? Whatever." Gaining weight has been easy for me ever since my early 20s. I'm pretty sure that is when the compulsive eating (and yo-yo dieting) began. I was 20 and 163lbs and I was dating a guy who was already much larger than me and worked at a pizza joint. He worked late, so we ate late. He brought me whole pizzas and pints of Ben and Jerry's and, because I had waited to eat with him, I was always ready to binge with him on the late-night snacks. I gained about 15 lbs while we were dating, at least 15. When he dumped me, I went on a super-emotional-workout marathon and lost 22lbs in about 3 weeks, back down to 153. Boom! Gone! I was sure that he would realize his mistake when I showed up to collect my stuff. As those stories go, he didn't and I went on some kind of I-don't-even-know phase. I can't remember what happened in the next year, other than there were a few family deaths and I moved in with one of my best friends. I'm not even sure when the weight began to creep back on or how I was eating at the time to allow it. I do remember that another bunch-o-lbs made its way onto my body when I started working in the medical field. This was back when drug reps were still allowed to bring us lunches and we ate like kings! When Sam got married, I was 24 (if my math is correct) and wore the bridesmaid dress at 184lbs. A short time later, Kristan and I were walking a lot in preparation for her wedding and because we had a good time doing it and sometimes, we got burgers and beer after. She got married almost a year after Sam did, I was back down again and wore her bridesmaid dress at 167lbs. That September, I turned 25 and with yet another heartbreak and depression, I gained almost 30lbs through the winter and that spring was at 193, the heaviest I'd ever been. My weight has steadily gone up since then, with a few small losses here and there, but still up-up-up! Today, I weighed in at 209.1 pounds.
There is no control for me and willpower is useless when you have none. When all you can think about is food: where the best is and how to get it, how much it will cost and how it doesn't mater, fried food or baked food? it doesn't matter as long as it is seasoned and comes with french fries, choosing not to count calories because you don't want to know how bad it really is, justifying the pint of ice cream with "I worked hard today," bragging about how you can eat 10 hot dogs or a whole pizza in one sitting, eating for comfort when you're not hungry, being able to easily polish off an entire MELT sandwich and its slaw and fries, eating all the bacon as long as you don't eat any toast, eating healthy in front of people and soon after, binging on junk at home, bargaining and binging and bargaining and binging. THIS is my relationship with food. THIS is why my weight as yo-yoed so much in the last ten years.

I know what you may be thinking, "just stop eating so much." I have tried this many, many times, it always ends in a binge that lasts for weeks or even months.

I am an addict. My drug is food. Food is always there for me and I manipulate it and myself so that it never lets me down. Food makes me feel good. It is something I can feel control over. Eating makes me happier than almost anything else in my life. Eating is present in social settings and in the privacy of my own home. Food in a social setting provides a connection with friends that I don't feel any other time. Eating at home provides the privacy to eat more than my fair share and then some without being embarrassed. I've been spending a lot more time at home alone in the last year than I have ever in my life. Ergo, I have been binging more than I have ever in my life. While I have tried it in the past, purging after a binge is unpleasant enough to stop me from continuing the practice. Though, I don't know which is worse: purging or the fact that I don't ever feel so full that I have to.

My breaking point was two Thursdays ago. I came home after a particularly exhausting work day and on the way I stopped and picked up a pizza, a 12oz tub of fat-free sour cream, and a package of strawberry wafer cookies. I at half the package of cookies on short drive home. The sour cream I used to make ranch dip for the already cut up peppers in my fridge. I told myself that if I ate as many peppers as I could prior to the pizza being ready, I wouldn't eat so much pizza. Makes sense, right? Before I knew it, the tub of ranch dip was gone and so were 3 bell peppers. I was no longer hungry, but I still wanted a piece of pizza. Within an hour, I had eaten the entire pizza, save for a quarter or so of the crust where I had eaten the toppings and cheese. This much food would make most normal people bust. I did not bust. I did not feel the least bit physically sick. I tolerated the half-package of cookies, the entire tub of dip, three bell peppers, and a whole freaking delux pizza in a matter of an hour and a half and I felt fine. Full, but fine. Its not like I wasn't having an internal conversation while all of it was happening. I kept thinking, "Oh, this is not good for me, I should stop," but I didn't. I couldn't. The control I felt wasn't real. When it was all said and done, I looked at myself and all that I devoured and I decided I needed help.

Since then, I have talked to friends, found some help programs, and seen some doctors. We all agree that my problem is not physiological, it is completely mental and emotional. However, unlike other addictions such as drugs and alcohol, I cannot survive without mine. According to the weight management physician I saw today, appetite suppressants won't work for me, because I don't eat due to hunger. She also declined to put me on antidepressant medication at this time. This is fine, I want to try the non-medication approach first.

I started a program last night and I liked what I saw and felt and I'll likely be continuing it. I exercised today and my diet for the last two days has been better, not great, but better than it has been recently. I contacted my dietician to get a new diet plan from her, one that I can stick to and get results with that doesn't make me hate everything. Therapy is going to be important in this journey as well and I have a good doc for that, too.

Friends and family, I am asking you for your understanding and patience with me in these months/years to come. I'm taking steps and moving forward to recover from this downward spiral I have gotten myself into. I am not exaggerating when I say this is going to be extremely difficult for me. I will appreciate your support.

Beware: This entry is ridiculous and has lots of exclamation points!!

Tonight, I received one of the most beautiful pictures I have received in a long time. It was a photo of my friend's baby boy who was born 9 days ago. Now, having worked in pediatrics and having tons of cousins and friends having babies, I know what I cute baby looks like and I know what a not-cute baby looks like. This 9-day-old boy is, in a word, angelic.

I come from a family of, let's face it (no pun intended), nice-looking individuals on both my paternal and my maternal side. Each nice-looking individual has married another nice-looking individual. Together, they create beautiful children and their children have met and had children with other beautiful people, creating nearly-perfectly-amazingly-beautiful babychildren. Do you see what I'm getting at? In short, my family makes pretty babies. Don't believe me? Have you SEEN photos of my family?!?!

Recently, with my friends having babies, I've noticed that my friends also make beautiful offspring. You know who you are! The aforementioned angelic baby boy is just the latest in the adorable baby photos that I have on my phone.

My point is simple, really: I can't compete with this! Your pretty babies make me shallow! If I end up making a baby with anyone less good-looking than Joseph Gordon-Levitt, there is a chance that I could have a not-cute baby!!

*sigh*

There is really only one solution to the problem I face here...

MARRY JOSEPH GORDON-LEVITT AND HAVE LOTS OF ABOVE-AVERAGE-LOOKING BABIES!!

I Want STRONG

I have been thinking a lot about the recent surge of "proud to be fat" articles I'm reading. Check that, maybe they are more "embrace your bodies" articles... In any case, I've been reading them, sharing them, loving them. I think they are inspiring to young (and older) women when there is so much negative, body-shaming media out there. Then, I got to thinking, "Why do I want to lose weight?" I don't care to be skinny, I don't need my ribs showing, I certainly have no particular occasion for which to lose (believe me, I tried to make my upcoming California trip a reason...FAIL), I think I already look good naked (not that anyone else is looking), so why is it that I want to lose weight body fat? I feel that I am beautiful as I am. I don't hate my body, there are parts that I'm not comfortable showing, but most of those parts are the same ones I didn't show off when I was a slim, fit teenager with superior body confidence anyway...so, why?

I have thought long and hard about this question and have come to one very valid conclusion: Because I actually LOVE my body and I want to have it be good to me for a long time.

I have had some health issues this summer. Nothing really major, but still all major frustrations. I planned to have a fit and active summer, all summer long. I wanted to go hiking and kayaking and learn to use a kettlebell and play soccer and kickball and meet people and make new friends (Mom says, "You can never have too many friends!" Thanks, Mom, for your eternal optimism.) Well, my aspirations started to go to hell in April, when I tore the meniscus in my right knee. Soccer was supposed to start at the end of April, so I was out. After 6 weeks of physical therapy, I was healed and ready to go! Unfortunately, soccer was over. Then weekends got busy and I began to see my other aspirations fade away. What? Summer's not over! You still have time! Nope. The Sunday after July 4th, I went swimming in the lake with some good friends. We had a great time and I felt good about it. That night, however, I came down with a fever. This fever recurred over the next three nights, but I still managed to recover and make it to work in the morning. Fever, chills, body aches, sore throat, fatigue, all viral per the doctor. My depleted immune system then allowed me to breakout in cold sores. Then, I got a full body rash. I stayed home for the entire weekend, while friends went out and celebrated birthdays and reunions. You could say it definitely knocked me on my ass. It was that weekend that I saw my doctor and she told me to chill out completely. No more exercise whatsoever for 4-6 weeks to recover from my many viral illnesses! I'm not even aloud to power walk! I decided 4 weeks would be enough to recover. Two weeks into this suspension, last Sunday, I landed in the emergency room with the worst case of stomach flu I have ever had by a long shot. Saving you the details, have you ever read books about men dying of dysentery on the battle fields of the Civil War? (or any war, really) It was a lot like that. I called off work Monday - Wednesday and was of very little help on Thursday and Friday. Though I'm feeling better, my stomach is still quite temperamental. I will also be tacking on those extra 2 weeks to my suspension. 

In conclusion, this summer has not turned out the way I wanted it to at all. I've spent more time convalescing than anything else, at least it feels that way. This brings me back to the beginning and why I want to lose weight and exercise: I don't EVER want to go through a summer like this again! I want to be strong and have a strong immune system. I want to nourish my body with good, protein and vitamin-rich foods and I want to challenge my body to lift heavier and heavier things and become more flexible to reduce the risk of injury. I want to be able to play soccer and hike and even do some rock climbing if I feel so inclined. I love my body and I want it to be strong (not thin, thin is incidental), I want STRONG.

Just three more weeks...

Trying this again...

The last time I had a blog, it was about dating. I described, in detail and with tabloid flair, my experiences with each date I went on. Some people liked it, some people hated it, and some people, whom I considered close friends refused to read it, because, and I quote, "they didn't want to hate me." Ouch! After the blog ended a possible blossoming relationship and I felt worse and worse about my friends wanting to hate me when they read it, I deleted every one of the 47 pages. No, I didn't print them or save them on the computer for posterity reasons. They were gone and so was a piece of me that I didn't know existed. I grieved for this and was depressed for quite a while. Turns out, I actually enjoy writing! Even if it is tabloid-grade crap that I'm writing, I really like it!

So here I am again. There are many changes going on in my life right now. Changes that involve work, relationships, finances, and my personal physical health and mental well being. I feel that it is time to set at the keyboard again and write about these changes and my opinions. I'm always glad to have a sounding board and I have learned to generally embrace outside opinions for what they are.

If you give a shit, read on and have a good day. If you don't, have a good day anyway!