Today marks 58 days of my recovery from Binge Eating Disorder. 58 days of not bingeing, of not turning to food for consolation, for comfort, or for familiarity. 58 days of feeling my emotions, of actually facing and sitting with the anxiety that surfaces when I’m not using donuts and chips to stuff it back down. 58 days of investing in my health for myself, for my son, and for my family.
As a natural consequence of not bingeing and eating healthy, whole foods, I have lost approximately 20 pounds, although I don’t know the exact number. Excessively weighing myself multiple times a day accompanied the “dieting” part of the eating disorder cycle. That is another behavior I am trying to overcome, so I can’t say for sure how much weight has come off as a result of recovery. But, I know that doesn’t matter, that the number doesn’t matter because this is not a diet where the primary focus is on the number to see or know if I’m losing weight. I know I’m losing weight. My body tells me. My clothes tell me. My family and friends tell me. Just like I know when I’m gaining weight. I don’t need a scale to tell me if I’m headed in the right direction. I need the scale to tell me a number, and, as long as my behaviors and my “lifestyle” have changed, the number on the scale does not matter. Not at all. Not even one bit.
So, how does one move away from the “diet” mentality and move towards achieving a “lifestyle” change? Years ago when I was enrolled in a popular weight loss program, the representatives of that company used to say, “This is not a diet. It’s a lifestyle.” So, when my therapist told me “dieting” is not the way to recover from BED, I thought I was on the right path. I even repeated to her, “This is not a diet. It’s a lifestyle.” I had no idea what that really meant. I mean, I knew the sentiment behind it, but I didn’t know what it meant to live it. I just went around robotically repeating those words, trying to convince myself and those around me that time was different because I changed the words, because this program told me I am not on a diet. And just as I had many times in the past, I did not find recovery with that program, or any other weight loss program for that matter. I lost weight on and off many different times only to end up at my all time highest weight this past February. A weight that almost scared the life out of me. A weight that propelled me into prediabetes, high cholesterol, and into the category of “high risk for a stroke.”
I experienced my “turning point” on March 31st. I ate a hamburger deluxe from a local diner complete with home fries, cole slaw, and pickles. The meal was delicious, but about halfway through, I started to become uncomfortably full. There was definitely enough food there for two meals. Yet, despite being satisfied, I continued to eat until I finished everything in those containers. For about an hour afterwards, I was okay. I didn’t feel sick…until I did. The pain in my stomach, chest, and upper back was overwhelming and I tried all my usual remedies, but none of them worked. For the next two hours, I contemplated going to the emergency room, as I started to convince myself I was having a heart attack. Even my husband started to get nervous. After taking some homeopathic remedies, using my oils, and drinking ginger tea, the pain began to subside and I went to bed.
When I awoke the next morning, still feeling uncomfortable and fearing for my life, I realized I needed to change my life. And from that day forward, I pledged to stop bingeing, or at least try to stop. 58 days from that day, I am proud to say I have not had a binge since.
I was scared, though. I had been there before. I have said, “This is it this time,” more times than I can remember. I had attempted to lose weight many times, but I had attempted to stop bingeing fewer times than that. But I was done. At least, I thought I was done. I was hoping I was done. I mean, I knew I wanted to be done, but I didn’t know if I could actually do it. This time felt different, but I used to say that all the time, too. “This time just feels different.” So, I cautiously told myself I was going to try the best I could to overcome BED and not focus on the weight. The weight, after all, was just a result of the eating disorder, so instead of trying to stop the symptoms, I would try to address the root issue. (Although I have come to learn that the eating disorder was not the root; it was a coping mechanism for the real core of my issues.)
So, I started to focus on my body and how it was feeling, when I was actually hungry, when I was feeling satisfied. It took me a while to recognize my body’s cues and what they meant. I became aware of certain habits I’ve established over the years like eating just because food was out, finishing my son’s leftover food, or eating because the clock dictated it was time for a meal. I greatly reduced sugar from my diet and eliminated gluten and dairy. I began to notice that my cravings for sweets started to fade. I started to pay attention to how different foods made me feel, and the more time that passed, the easier it became (or as a friend put it, the stronger I became).
On day 49 of my recovery, about 9 days ago at this point, I received a warning from my higher power. It was a cautionary message that I needed to continue on this new path or my worst fears would come true and I would become very ill or even die prematurely. I had blood work a few days earlier and I thought that eating clean for 45 days would have had a significant effect on my results. Instead, the numbers were the worst I’d ever seen. At first, I was disappointed and started to feel even more scared and depressed even, but after talking to one of my practitioners, I started to look at those results differently. Of course, those numbers could have been lower than they were a month and a half ago. I didn’t have numbers from then to compare, but even more importantly, those results were a warning. Just a warning. Maybe even a gentle nudge to keep forging in the direction I’m heading.
And so today, on day 58, as I was on my morning walk, the word “lifestyle” popped into my head. As I walked through the foot, leg, hip, and back pain, I told myself that this is it. This is the “lifestyle” that people refer to when they say, “It’s not a diet. It’s a lifestyle.” Only this time, those words are not being fed to me by a company trying to market its services. I’m actually living it. So what does this “lifestyle” entail? Well, now that I feel I have a good handle on the food piece, I realize that there are other things that contribute to recovering from an eating disorder and living a healthy lifestyle. For me, that, of course, means no more bingeing and making healthy food choices, but it also means listening to and honoring my body, incorporating more physical activity, drinking more water, practicing meditation, doing breath work, using my oils and taking my supplements, healing from my trauma, and changing my thoughts. It means going for a walk instead of lying on the couch. It means crying because I’m sad instead of eating a sleeve of cookies. It means replacing, “I am fat and I’m going to die” with “I am grateful for my body and that it is healing.” It’s about loving myself for who I am on the inside and outside. It’s about knowing I am more than enough. It’s not just about the food. My life doesn’t revolve around food. Yes, eating healthy is part of this new lifestyle, but it is in no way the only thing it is about. It’s about every choice I make, my ideas and beliefs about life. It’s about everything I do, or don’t do, that influences my life in some way. It’s about living.
Overweight, Anxious, and Done 