I’ve been dreading writing another post. I began Thanksgiving with such willpower and hope…and then things changed. And I can pinpoint the exact catalyst for that change: leftovers.
Most people screw up their diets over Thanksgiving. They give in a little, and enjoy a piece of pie with their loved ones. When people say “don’t worry so much over the holidays,” that’s good advice. That is, if you can handle it.
But I don’t function that way.
See, I didn’t enjoy a piece of pie with my family. I didn’t give in. In fact, I stayed under 1250 calories through the Thanksgiving meal. But then later, I ate a few pieces of pie alone in front of the TV.
I went out to dinner with my high school friends and passed up pasta for steamed chicken and veggies. But then I had about 800 calories worth of stuffing later that night. Again, alone.
For the past week, I’ve eaten almost 3000 calories on average EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. And the vast majority of my extra calories were consumed late at night and alone.
Why do I do it? I’m not sure. It’s like the leftovers in the fridge are calling to me, and I make myself answer to them. When I’m binging, I don’t even really enjoy it for more than a couple seconds. I’m punishing myself and I know it.
What’s the reason for my self-sabotage? Part of me knows I’m scared. I have a lot of stress in my life, and maybe I’m comfortable being where I am and hating myself. What if I lose this weight and I’m not any happier? Maybe I don’t think I deserve to be happy.
No matter what the answer is, it’s bullshit. It’s complete and total bullshit. Which is why my blog is so appropriately named byebyebullshit. Because I need to let this go. I can’t live like this anymore.
When I think back on my life for the past few years, I realize I’ve gained all this weight not because I’m eating out and drinking wine with my friends like a normal young adult. Sure, that’s a part of it. But the real point at which I started gaining a bunch of weight was when I started binging. That’s the reason I’m fat. If I didn’t binge, I wouldn’t be fat.
When I try to diet, I sacrifice time with my friends to make sure I can stay within my calorie limit – and then I binge alone. So, to summarize, I sacrifice fun with the people I love, and then I stuff my face anyway. It’s bullshit.
Enough. I weighed myself this morning, and I gained 0.4 pounds this week. Which honestly, I don’t know how I’m not up at least 3 pounds. But I’m not complaining.
I’m glad I weighed myself. It reminds me that even though this week was a total and complete disaster, I’m not starting over. I’ve still lost 6.7 pounds. And next week I’ll lose more. There’s no reason for me to backslide. I still have hope.
This is not a linear process.
But I have not had a binge-free week since I started this blog.
I repeat, I have not had a binge-free week when I started this blog.
This week will be a binge-free week. Mark my words.
If I can do that, that’s more of an accomplishment than any number the scale spits out.
It will mean I’m one step closer to actually giving a shit about myself.