84 days. Almost three months of not bingeing. I thought I’d be down at least twenty-five pounds by now. I thought when I stopped bingeing that the weight would fall off with minimal effort from me in other areas. I thought all I had to do was stop the binges and that I would magically achieve my goal weight with no other changes. Although I haven’t weighed myself in 84 days, I can say with certainty I haven’t lost twenty-five pounds; I’ve probably gained that much and more.
I know the scale is a trigger for me and that is why I don’t weigh myself. I become obsessed with it, weighing myself multiple times a day. If, one morning, I show even a half pound weight gain, I restrict even more that day hoping to lose that half pound and then some the very next day. The disappointment takes over when I am “eating well” and restricting so many foods that even the slightest weight gain makes me feel like a failure. It makes me want to give up and binge, convincing myself that I can’t do anything right, that I was never meant to lose weight, look good, or feel healthy. So, I stopped weighing myself.
I told myself I would use my clothing and how I feel as a gauge and that I would be able to tell if I lost weight based on how my clothing fit me. Well, it definitely works. Even my biggest sized clothing is becoming hard to zipper, button, and fasten. Those jeans that fit me three months ago are barely making it over my hips. That shirt is so tight around my arms and chest that it is pulling and riding up. My clothes are telling me I gained weight.
I knew I would be able to “feel” the weight loss even without the clothes. I would be able to feel my stomach become less bloated. I wouldn’t be as winded when I climbed up the stairs. I would be able to walk farther, my knees wouldn’t hurt so much, and my plantar fasciitis would go away. But, the reality of it is, none of that has happened. I can’t walk around my house without losing my breath, my left knee is so inflamed that I am limping around, and I am icing my feet every night because I can barely stand on them.
Being binge-free for 84 days has not made me lose any weight. Instead, I have gained weight. I feel so fat, so bloated, so hopeless. It’s so difficult to see how far I’ve come, to acknowledge that I haven’t binged in 84 days, when I feel like this. My stomach is so big that I have trouble bending over. It just gets in the way. My body hurts. My clothes don’t fit. It’s hard to see the progress right now.
I just ate a foot-long Subway sandwich at my son’s baseball game. It was grilled chicken but still a lot of bread. Within an hour, I began to feel sick. By the time we left the game and arrived at Stop and Shop, I thought I was having a heart attack. I felt bloated, like my stomach was stretched so much the button on my pants was about to pop. The heartburn became unbearable and the homeopathic remedy I usually take for it wasn’t working. I applied peppermint oil to my chest hoping it would relieve some of the pain and discomfort, but it didn’t. I felt sluggish and bloated and the pain emanated in my chest and shot around my side into my back and down my arm. The burning in my chest made me sweat and I felt weak as though my legs were about to give out. I thought I was going to fall down right in the middle of Stop and Shop while shopping for groceries with my husband and my son.
As I made my way through the checkout and into the parking lot, I felt winded like I had just jogged up and down each aisle of the grocery store. I could hear myself breathing heavily and felt ashamed. Can others hear the huffing sound I make as I hobble my way to the car? I climb into the front seat and realize I can’t even hold my stomach in anymore. It doesn’t work. It doesn’t go anywhere. I realize that while not bingeing for 84 days is an amazing feat, it is not enough. I need to make healthier choices, choices that don’t make my physically ill. I had no business eating that gluten today. I need not wonder why I am sick.
I am proud of my strength thus far, of my ability to avoid the binges, but I need to move up to the next level now. I can eat healthier and still not restrict any foods. Not restricting doesn’t mean eating ice cream every day. It also doesn’t have to mean eating whatever I want whenever I want. Just because I’m not restricting doesn’t mean I should eat the foods that cause me pain and discomfort. I’m working through this part now.
It’s been 84 days and although sometimes I begin to think that’s a really long time and that I should have lost a significant amount of weight by now, I realize that 84 days is not even three full months. I start to think about how long I have suffered with this eating disorder and how a little under three months does not compare to the 25 plus years I have been bingeing. It’s going to take more time than that. I have broken the bingeing habit. Now, I need to work on making choices that make my body feel good. I don’t have to eat anything I want whenever I want it. Can I have cake three times a day? Sure. No one is denying me three pieces of cake daily. I can have it if I really want it. But, should I do that and should I do that every day? No one is saying I can’t. The cake is there and I can eat it if I want it. What I need to concentrate on at this point is how that choice is going to make me feel. Yes, I can have three pieces of cake a day, but I will feel bloated and sluggish and have pain and discomfort. I can eat all of the dairy, gluten, and sugar I want, but my stomach and my chest will burn and I will feel ill. I have a choice.
So, as I continue on this journey of self-healing and recovery and I have gotten past the bingeing stage, I will now shift my focus to making choices that don’t make me sick and don’t make my body hurt. In other words, I will be concentrating on loving myself and my body and honoring it with food that is nutritious, tasty, and healing. I deserve that.
Overweight, Anxious, and Done 