Tag Archives: Bulimia

Food.

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I LOVE FOOD!  Pure and simple.  I hear the line “Food, glorious food” from the musical Oliver, running on a never ending loop in my brain.  Food is enticing; food is comforting; food is stimulating; food is exhilarating.

I can sit and dream of food.  As I drive, everywhere I go, I see restaurants and then imagine the taste of each tempting morsel that they would make.  And I don’t have to be the least bit hungry.  I can sit on Pinterest for hours looking at images of delectable food creations and want to make every single one. RIGHT NOW.  I can easily flip from wanting savory to salty to sweet to sour in a matter of minutes. I can go from wanting a juicy steak, to cheesecake to Baileys to a milkshake.  Mmmm ok how about a steak dinner with a Baileys milkshake and cheesecake for dessert.  Oh with grilled asparagus, crab and bearnaise, garlic mashed potatoes, and a cocktail, mmm OMG – now I want that! And I repeat I don’t have to be hungry.

In fact that is the biggest issue.  I can be completely full and STILL want food because I want the TASTE and TEXTURE of it.  I will start craving certain foods and NOTHING else will satisfy.  Because its not about being hungry. Those without food issues will not get this obsession.

I said once to a group of women on all weight loss protein shakes, that I was tempted to just “chew the food, and then spit it out instead of swallowing it”.  One lady understood me instantly.  She would have been right there with me spitting like a bunch of guys with chewing tobacco.  However another lady was appalled.  “Isn’t that just like throwing up?”.  Hell NO!  I don’t intend to swallow it!!

Another lady suggested “well why don’t you have some veggies ready to snack on instead?”  DUHH WHAT?!  Let me make this clear – I’m not actually HUNGRY.  And trust me – I don’t CRAVE carrots and celery.  EVER.  The day I do, I’ll be more than happy to satisfy that craving!  I’m talking about craving a 7 layer cake made of brownies, cheese cake, and chocolate chip cookies.S'More Cake

There isn’t a vegetable on this planet that will replace my desire for this cake!  I could eat every veggie or piece of fruit til I was exploding at the seams and then some – and guess what – I’ll STILL WANT THE CAKE!

Yup.  Because its about savouring that thick chewy brownie and allowing that creamy cheesecake to melt on my tonuge, while enjoying that crunch of the cookie.  From this description you’d think I’d had this cake before wouldn’t you?  NOPE.  never.  I saw it yesterday on pinterest for the first time and I can’t stop thinking about it.

Potlucks and Buffets are hellish.  I want EVERYTHING there.  I go from dish to dish thinking “oh yes, I want that, and that, oh and that.  mmmm MUST have THAT!”  til my plate is overflowing.  Then I HAVE to go back with another plate for all the things I either missed the first round, or LOVED so much I must have MORE.  “please sir, can I have some more?”   MOOOORE?!  (oliver, oliver, never before has a boy wanted more).  But then I get full.  Damn it – there was more food to try.  And I walk away stuffed beyond comfort and totally UNSATISFIED.  Unsatisfied because I couldn’t consume every dish that was calling to me.

So I will spend days, THINKING about the foods I didn’t get to try.  Dreaming of a chance to go back and have them.  Meanwhile berating myself for being such a glutton and reminding myself “this is why you are overweight”

I’ve been to dieticians and nutritionists.  I KNOW what a balanced, healthy diet looks like.  I’m perfectly aware of what the right choices would be.  But that doesn’t address my food “issues”.   Foods consumed in the dark with nobody watching don’t count right?  If you eat the ice-cream directly out of the container, or just trim a 1/4″ strip off the edge of the cake, or just take a few more bites of the leftover applecrisp – NOBODY will know.  RIGHT?!  If you smuggle the frozen shortbread or Christmas nuts/bolts just a few times over the year – NOBODY will remember how many were there to start with. Right? However when Christmas rolls around the following year and the once full container of nuts and bolts has barely any left, it DOES become kinda obvious.  Hmmm.  I think SOMEBODY noticed.

I’ve been obsessed with food since I was young. Sneaking a cookie and running to the bathroom to eat it or keeping a spoon hidden in the bookcase opposite the deep freezer, to make a quick ice-cream snitch that much quicker, HAPPENED. FREQUENTLY.   I remember lurking under the stairs or being “trapped” in the shower stall of the basement ensuite, while my mum did laundry in the room next door, or risk being caught red handed with an illicit food item.  And you can’t casually emerge from under the stairs without attracting attention to yourself.  So you wait. And Damn it, she’s FOLDING the entire load NOW. Oh mannnn. How long will I have to hide?

My Mum tried a cookie diet.  9 special lemon cookies instead of the meal.  Oh I soooo wanted to do that diet too.  I was the fat kid.  I needed to lose weight.  I was teased plenty.  I was always seeking some solution to losing weight. When I first learned about anorexia and bulimia, I became fascinated with it.  I thought it would be a cool way to lose weight.  It took several years to have the will power to self induce vomiting, but I learned how. I was pleased with myself.  And in university I tried to cut out food.  But I just couldn’t.  So I binged and purged instead. Much more satisfying, cause I got to eat. but it’s not a great pattern – esp. when you pass out in your own bathroom.  Although I have to share – if you puke right away – the food isn’t digested so its not like vomit – it still tastes food – except ice cream – that’s just gross.  TMI.  I know I know.  So I’ve learned – don’t binge on ice cream.  No, seriously – I don’t purge anymore.  But I do binge. People who say – “oh one chocolate or one cookie is plenty” have NO CLUE.  There is NO SUCH THING as ENOUGH.

Food is an obsession.  Weight watchers worked for a while, but they don’t address the disordered eating side.  Most “diets” don’t address them.  Instead I need to find the role food is playing in my mind.  WHY is it comforting?  WHY do the tastes and textures  give me such satisfaction(which is why apple pie gum – does NOT help me – I just want pie even more)?  What does food represent to me?  How do I move past my long established relationship with food, and establish a healthy one?

I’m working at it.  I’m making steps each day in the right direction.  But each time I falter from my “plan” or “goal”  I get angry and frustrated. I get all the “you failed, you suck, you cheated” messages.  And then I want to comfort myself even more with “bad” choices. I LOVE FOOD.

So even as I sit here, totally full from my protein shake, I’m dreaming of “what would I eat next if I could have anything?”  http://richriley.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/Vi-Shape.jpgThe shakes work – I’ve lost weight and inches.  I’m “craving” sweets less often. My blood sugars have dropped.  I’ve chosen SALAD at restaurants over steak a few times recently. That’s unheard of  – TRUST ME!. I drink more water esp when I crave food.  So I know that I’m inching my way towards healthier ways. But I’m a long way from having my granny panties falling off from being too big.

So I’m going to go back to my recipe books and dream of more food. Because at least dreaming isn’t as damaging as eating. And when its time for my next meal I’ll try and choose a shake instead of caving into my desire to have something mouthwatering, fattening and much more satisfying. MMMMM FOOD.  How I love you.

And that’s me. GP.

 

Death

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Being out of town and on the road for a month gave me lots of time to think.  I also got to see many of my very closest friends; had many heart to hearts, shed tears, and got some rest. Several times during the month I’d think about a blog post, but  I like posting in solitude with no distractions.  In a tiny trailer with 2 kids, there isn’t true private time.  I often shed tears while writing, and certainly didn’t want to have to explain that to my kids. So now I’m home with several “ideas” to write about.

Over the years, I’ve had many long term bouts with depression.  I’m on medications and trying to get control.  But because of that, drs often have to ask “have you thought about dying” (they are actually asking “are you gonna off yourself”).  Well the answer to have I THOUGHT ABOUT IT is YES.  Will I off myself – NO. Am I suicidal right now NO.  Do any of you reading this need to get worried. NO!!!! So relax and keep reading.

The truth is I’ve had many thoughts about dying and killing myself and disappearing etc.  At times I’ve had more serious thoughts.  As a teen, twice I took too many Tylenol.  Or thought I had.  When the dose is 1 pill, 9 seemed like a lot!  I had the intent to kill myself. Part of me wanted to die.  But there was another part that I guess stopped me from taking more and more.  Granted – that was the last 9 in the bottle.  Who knows.  I didn’t even pass out.  Nobody even really knew about it.

In university I was bulimic.  I was so desperate to be thin, but I just needed to eat.  I had to eat.  I’d try and not eat but by the end of the day I’d scarf down whatever.  Then I’d feel guilty so I’d puke.  I got good at it.  I didn’t really care if it would harm my throat etc.  I wanted to lose weight.  And I did.  And I got compliments.  It was great.  Until I passed out at the toilet one night.  SCARY.  I realized I had to change my ways.  So I began eating, and occasionally puked.  I stopped myself from puking.  Eventually I just gained weight and tried to accept it.  But by then I had my DH (my dear husband) and I wasn’t as worried about being THIN to be accepted.  DH loved me.  I didn’t want to hinder my health or die, so I vowed never to induce my vomiting again.  I’ve stayed true to that vow.  Unfortunately the binge eating still exists.  Another battle, another blog.

For years my dad has said he isn’t afraid of dying. He said, he didn’t WANT to die, but wasn’t afraid of it.  I always found that statement very unsettling and upsetting.  How can you NOT be afraid of dying?  its DEATH!  I couldn’t comprehend how ANYONE, young or old, healthy or terminal could accept death peacefully.  I just found the whole idea SCARY.

On TV I’ve seen plot lines where someone has died and the loved one touches the body or lies with it etc.  I distinctly remember the Grey’s anatomy character Izzy lying in bed with just died Denny and I thought EWWW.  How can you touch a dead body? Isn’t that gross?

Then DH died. I was so grief stricken.  I immediately crawled into his hospital bed. I had waited 3 weeks to lie with him.  Now I was never going to again.  I wasn’t concerned about the dead body.  I was just with my DH.  I didn’t ever want to leave him.  I had to be dragged away.  At his viewing I kissed him. I touched him.  it wasn’t gross or morbid. These were going to be my last moments EVER with him. I loved him.  Suddenly Death was something different.

In the time since he’s gone I’ve had a couple of psychic messages from him.  He is existing in a realm outside of our understanding.  Suddenly I don’t fear death at all.

I don’t WANT to die.  I’ve thought about it.  There have been some very troubled moments.  I even have a plan.  Heck I’ve had more than one plan.  But a plan doesn’t mean action. It merely indicates that I’m a methodical, organized, over thinker of things.  But knowing that I’ll see DH again, puts me at peace about dying.  I’m not scared of it.  I get what my dad says now.  He’s not ready, but he is prepared.

In the past year I refused to take a lot of my medications.  I’m diabetic. I NEED to take these meds.  So my one therapist told my I was “passive suicidal”.  I didn’t care. My response was “ok sure, whatever”  I was too depressed to care.  I didn’t really enjoy living. I knew I had to live for my kids. At times that seemed like a small concession when if I actually died I could be with DH and NOT deal with all the crap being dished out at me in the here and now. But I kept living. Probably slowly killing myself with poor health.  But I didn’t want to die. So I changed.  I started to care.  I started to take my meds again. I’m working on improving.

Each day I’m working on living.  I’m trying to lose weight so I’ll need smaller granny panties.  But I’m startled to realize that I don’t fear or even dread death.  It really doesn’t scare me at all anymore.  It’s no longer a black ominous void.  So although I’m not yet ready to die, I am at peace with the idea.

And that’s me.