I have an eating disorder.

I watched a YouTube video over a week ago, and I’m still thinking about it. I don’t usually watch a lot of The Gabby Show, but it popped up and I was interested. It’s interesting to me how many people are struggling, especially the number of people willing to voice their struggles. I like Gabby; she’s full of stories. I didn’t expect her to be the kind of person that would have an eating disorder, much less talk about it openly on YouTube. I knew Shane Dawson struggled with food and weight and liking himself. I know that Hannah Hart speaks a lot of about how she deals with negative feelings and trying to just feel better. I know Markiplier goes out of this way to let his fans know that he’s got problems and he has to deal with them, but that he hopes his fans have to deal with less. I like these YouTubers for these reasons. I like people that are amazing in spite of being fragile. It’s important to me.

It was hard for me to think about Gabby having an eating disorder, but I wasn’t sure why it was so difficult to think about. It wasn’t until later when I was in the grocery store that I realized it’s because she doesn’t LOOK like she has an eating disorder. She’s not crazy thin. She doesn’t look gaunt and drawn. Her teeth aren’t rotting out of her head. She doesn’t look like she’s in trouble. I fell victim to the most basic denial reasoning, and I should know better. I should know better than anyone that you can look totally fine and be dying inside. Your outside appearance doesn’t have to dictate anything except that you want to seem normal.

Let me take you through a trip to the grocery store with me.
A, I’m a fat girl. Let’s start with that, so you can picture me appropriately. I’m not just fat in the middle, or just have a large bottom half… I’m fat in an all over kind of way. On top of that, I’m self-conscious as shit, so I spend an inordinate amount of time looking around to see if anyone is looking at me an judging my food choices.
B, I always get a small cart, because there is less room to put things in. Plus, I always start in the produce section, because if I fill my space with vegetables I have less room for danger foods. I pick up fruit and stare at it. If it’s a banana, all I can think of are the calories. If it’s citrus or apples, I think about the sugar content. If it’s berries or grapes, I think about how well I can portion eating (which is NOT WELL). In the end, I usually put the fruit back. From the produce section we go to the bakery.
C, I only shop the clearance section. If nothing looks good, I move on in disappointment. If something smells like garlic, I pick it up. In the meat department I only shop clearance, trying to find things that freeze well. I can spend twenty minutes at both clearance spots pondering if I really want or need anything, usually just to pick something up and come back to drop it off later.
D, The rest of the store is me picking things up at random, agonizing about everything I even think of touching, and then trying to be sure I have what I actually came for. At the end of the trip, I circle back through the store again and put back as much of my cart as I can.

In theory, it probably doesn’t sound like a bad idea. You pickup what you think you want, look at your cart at the end, and empty what you don’t need. My cart usually ends up with celery, some kind of fried or sweet item I don’t need but convinced myself I deserve, and Gold Peak Diet Tea.

When I’m out with friends, if they’re going to get food before something, I make up an excuse for being late. If we’re out late and they wanna grab a bite to eat, I make up a reason to go home immediately. On dates, I dodge any dinner invitation. This has lead to a few people being insulted that I want to go out instead of going to their place for dinner… but to those people I say, “Bitch, even if I ate in front of people, I wouldn’t go to your house! I don’t know you! This is how horror movies start, you stupid oaf!” But I digress… I don’t eat in public, unless it’s with my mom, and even then I try to eat the smallest bites possible so as not to look like “that fat girl wolfing down a burger without chewing.”

Don’t get me wrong. I’m under no delusion that I’m eating healthy. After buying my celery, I almost always pop over to Chipotle, ordering a bowl and some tacos under the guise of taking food to my mom, and then go home and binge eat everything, including the celery. I then spend as long as I can afterwards trying NOT TO EAT ANYTHING AT ALL. The point is that if you observe me… you’d have no idea how I got this big or maintain it. No one ever sees me eat.

I dunno where I’m going with this…

Don’t let someone’s outside appearance make you think they’re not hurting.
Everyone has problems… and they manifest in different ways.
Just let people be.

Also, if you are suffering, seek help.
I’ve sought a lot of help, and I’m very self-aware… I’m not cured, but I’m better than I’ve previously been. Don’t be scared of help… It’ll be okay.

Three MFing Pounds.

Life has been hard, as of late. I’m not really sure why I feel this way, to be honest. I mean, yeah, we have a new GM that’s kind of trying to fix everything at once, but that hasn’t really affected me THAT MUCH. I’ll have to do a little more IT work, because he let the company we were using go… but other than that… whatever.

I’ve just been depressed, recently. Can’t seem to break it for more than a day, and of course being UP for a day means I crash the next day. I’ve been trying to diet and exercise… and I honestly think that’s a contributing factor.

Now, let me clarify… It’s not the diet that depressed me, but the fact that I kept to the diet and exercise for seven days, I gained 3 lbs instead of losing anything. Before anyone says it, I don’t think it’s me gaining muscle mass. I’ve been walking, not weight lifting. Trying to get as close to 10k steps as I can. Closer to 6-8k most days, but that’s still way more than I ever used to move. You’d think I’d drop half a pound or something… not gain three motherfucking pounds. It’s discouraging as fuck.

On top of that, I have a weirdness with exercise. People always say the same stupid shit about exercise to people that don’t like to exercise.

If you keep at it, you’ll learn to love it and you’ll get addicted to it.

Bitch, no I will not. Stop telling me that. Do you know how quickly people get addicted to heroin? Almost immediately. Nicotine? Pretty quick. Gym? Fuck you. I’ve been trying to get addicted to exercising for 10+ years. Still hasn’t taken. I sometimes manage to develop a habit for months to a year, but I’ve never been addicted to it. I never CRAVE to exercise. I have to negotiate with myself over it, or berate myself into submission to do it. I never feel GLAD I exercised. I never get done and think, “Yeah, I wish I could feel like this all the time.” I always hate it. I always get done and just start debating taking up meth or cocaine, both of which are much more addictive and effective for weight loss.

Maybe it’s just me.
I can’t think of a single good association I’ve ever had with exercise since I was a kid, so maybe I have just been conditioned to hate it. #Pavlov
Maybe it’s because I’m bipolar, so my brain doesn’t release endorphins like it should.
All I know is that I’m really motherfucking tired of being told exercise is addictive and NEVER being able to get myself addicted to it.
No. No it motherfucking is not. If it is, then that shit isn’t universal, so you should still stop saying it. You’re just making me feel broken, and I have enough issues getting motivated.

The only way I’m any good at exercise is to be angry. Tell me I can’t do something, I’ll do it or literally die trying just to shut your stupid fucking face. I’m like She-Hulk or something. Thing is, though, I can’t be that angry every single god damn day. It’s a form of mania. After mania, I fucking crash. SO… yeah, I can go on that 7 mile hike with you and rage my way through it, but for the next week I will only have the energy to get up, go to work, come home, and cry till I fall asleep. That’s my reality. I don’t like it, but I can’t change it.

The diet hasn’t been bad. I’m kind of used to the eating habits, now. To the point that I had Chipotle yesterday, and it wasn’t even very good. Like, I just wished I’d cooked instead of getting it. It wasn’t bad by any means. I just would have prolly enjoyed my own cooking better, and it would have had less calories. Lesson learned.

Maybe I’ll just stop eating lunch and live off caffeine. I have to lose weight, and I’m not interested in being healthy about it. I’ve never wanted to be healthy. I don’t wanna be fit. I just wanna be rail thin. If I had a genie… my first wish would be, “I wanna be a size small with C-cup boobs forever.” People don’t get that concept. It’s how you can tell they’ve never been fat. I don’t wanna be able to run a 5k. I don’t wanna eat healthy greens. I don’t wanna eat heart healthy. I don’t really care about living a long time. I just wanna be thin.

But I also want to eat food I like.

The two don’t really go together.

My doctor once did a genetic test on me to see what foods my body would digest most effectively. It’s supposed to be a scientific approach to weight loss, because you just change over to foods you’re genetically pre-disposed to digest effectively, and you should lose some weight and feel better with only minimal efforts. My diet was a VERY low-carb Mediterranean diet, and it would have worked… because I’d rather NOT EAT than eat most of the things on my food list. Not terribly fond of mackerel and olives with bitter leafy greens you’re not allowed to cook with brown sugar and pork fat. Just… gross.

I’m gonna try this shit for another week… if I don’t lose some weight, I’m just going to stop eating lunch. That means, since I already don’t eat breakfast, I will be eating just dinner. Cuts my cals to about 800 on a bad day… if I don’t lose weight eating that little… I dunno. Maybe I’ll just take a knife and cut all the fat off like that girl in the ABCs of Death and see if I bleed out. Least I’d die pretty.

Is Fat Better Than Flab?

Guys, I’m scared to lose weight.

So my weight loss goals go unachieved every single year. I might drop some weight, but I haven’t lost any significant weight since 2009. There’s a myriad of reasons for it, including a binge eating habit and a lack of activity being up there at the top of reasons I struggle with my weight, but there’s a bigger reason that no one really understands until they’re looking down the barrel of it…

image

This picture comes from an article about a woman that lost 110 lbs. This is what her body looked like afterward… just extra skin everywhere. She tried to exercise it away to no avail, and finally she had to have four surgeries to remove 10 lbs of skin. The end product is still not what she thought she’d get, but it’s better. (Click to read the whole article, it’s great.)

image1

So… Doing the math… if I were to lose the 125 lbs that I want to lose, this is my future. I’d also like to point out that she had breast augmentation to get those boobs back. She lost all her boobs, as you can see in the previous picture. So, I’ll be flabby and flat-chested, instead of fat with boobs.

WHY WOULD I WANT TO SENTENCE MYSELF TO THIS?

No one told me, growing up, that this could happen. I was always kind of a fat kid. I could have been a thin teenager and maybe I wouldn’t have become a fat adult until way later in life. It’s only recently that I’ve been made aware that this is my impending reality if I ever get my shit together. I was always told that my skin, being young as it is, would snap back into place. Now, I’m on the wrong side of 25, and it’s officially too late to go back.

Do I still want to lose weight? Yes. Of course I do. I’d love to not be fat, but I don’t really know if I’m more upset by the idea of being fat my entire life, or losing weight just to end up with miles of skin covered in stretch marks that will never fade, that someone will probably have to CUT off of my person. I mean, neither is particularly appealing.

I thought of this, not just because I read the article, but because I’m looking to start hiking this year… Which I hate and don’t want to do, but I said I would do it, so I’m going to do it… But if you couple my diet plans with hiking, I should lose weight… Which is great! Except that I’m terrified out of my mind to end up a pile of skin. I don’t think I could deal with that, mentally. I think I’d wake up one morning and just kill myself, because if you can’t be happy being thinner, then what the fuck is going to make you happy?

I know it sounds overdramatic…. and I’d have to actually a substantial amount of weight before skin would be a problem for me… but… I dunno. It just makes losing weight seem so pointless.

Not to mention all the fat people that lose weight and then die of heart problems… Momma Cass didn’t die from choking on a sandwich. She lot a ton of weight, was really healthy for once in her life, and her heart gave out. John Pinette did the same thing more recently.

It just feels… so fucking pointless to try and get my shit together…  Flab. Death. That feeling of perpetual unhappiness even when you achieve you life goals, because life is really quite meaningless and we’re all just killing time and distracting ourselves from death….

I think I’m having an existential crisis.

Charts

So… Back in 2009 I joined a weight loss site. That year looked like this.

2009-2010

I started at 235, developed the habit of either not eating for days, or going on a binge and then spending the next 30 minutes throwing up as much as possible (even though I later learned that once food hits your mouth, you’re fucked). It wasn’t at all healthy, but everyone was so proud of me when I dipped down into the 190s. It didn’t matter to them how I got there, since they didn’t see it. They saw me drink a coke everyday. It’s weird how no one even questions how someone might drop weight so fast.

As you can see, it didn’t last. It got to a point where my body just threw up every time I ate. It scared me, and the weight started to creep back toward the end of the year.

I kept the account that I signed up for in 2009, and would update it. Not to a whole lot of purpose, but just occasionally felt like making myself want to die, I guess. There were a few times I tried to lose weight again, but I couldn’t commit to eating nothing anymore. I didn’t relish the pain in my guy anymore. It was just reminiscent of that horrible place where I would throw up every time I ate… so over the years (2009-2015) my chart looked like this.

2009-2015

So where I started at 235, which was 35 lbs above my high school weight in 2006, I topped out earlier this year at 280.

280 is officially unacceptable. I know some people will say that over 200 should have been unacceptable, but to those people I say fuck off. You don’t know my life. The point is that I came within 20 lbs of being a 300 lb person and that, for me, is unacceptable. I’ve been a fat person my entire life, but something about 300lbs just floored me.

Was it my rock bottom? Was it some kind of wake up call?
I dunno. I’m pretty sure I could get substantially lower (fatter) before I’d call it my end all rock bottom moment of absolute change. It was a shitty moment, though. I don’t know how I let it creep up so high. It’s like waking up one morning to see a strange looking back at you… and that stranger wants donuts.

So, in June I started looking into diets. Over the course of my life I’d tried them all. From Ana and Mia diets, to fad diets, to beach body, to weight watchers, to coffee and cigarettes, to paleo, to vegan, to whatever. It seemed to me that finding a diet that worked for a long run of life was impossible. How are you supposed to stick to all these thing when you’re also trying to live your life. Yes, being thin would terrific, but I also really like tacos… and when my friends and I go out, we like to drink and get tacos… so, your diet of “you can never drink alcohol again or eat anything that may or may not have touched a fryer” wasn’t going to work for me. I get that you can’t do that shit everyday, but what is life without cheat days?

After a lot of investigation, I settled on Slim Fast. I associated it with older women that say they’re dieting, but really just drink themselves to death, but when I looked into it, it’s a pretty sound kind of diety thing. You’re getting good nutrition intake… and if you’re going out you just skip your shakes and snacks to use the calories for whatever. It even had good longevity, since people can go off it and if they feel they’ve gained it’s not going to wreck your life to start it again. I had always liked the concept of calorie counting, but this was easier since I was only calculating a 500 cal meal and some 100 cal snacks.

And so, I present to you my chart from when I started dieting in July to now.

June-Oct

Yeah, there’s been turbulence. That’s not a straight line. It’s not the most direct path. But anyone can see the trend, here. I’m losing. I’m losing without starving myself. I’m losing without even sticking to Slim Fast or a constant calorie intake.

At this point, I keep Slim Fast around, but I’m not strict with it. Mostly I track my calories. My goal for the day is 1200. If I’m under 1400 I’m happy with it. If I’m under 2000, I live with it. Not everyday is a winner. Some days I want Coke and Chipotle. Some days I eat a cucumber and drink a lot of water, and come in crazy under calories. But… I’m losing.

As of this morning I’m under 260. 20 lbs down.
I also fit in a smaller pant size. So… that’s pretty cool for me.

This shit is hard. I can’t honestly tell you if dieting or quitting smoking is harder for me. Both make me feel like life is empty and pointless when I think about them too long.
I am, admittedly, doing substantially better at dieting than quitting smoking, though… >_>

So… there ya go.

Weight Loss Update

So, I went on a diet hiatus.
Things have been shitty and when things are shitty I don’t feel like cooking, and when I don’t feel like cooking I eat a lot of Chipotle and drink a lot of real Coca Cola and don’t give a damn what I’m eating.

What happened, though…. was nothing.
I gained no weight back, hovering around 265-266. While I wasn’t actively watching what I ate, at all, I was still tracking my weight a few times a week and trying to reach a 30 minute minimum of activity a day. I figured that if the weight started coming back I’d get upset and fly into a diet spree, but it just didn’t happen that way.

As of yesterday, I’m back on the “trying to lose” wagon.I’m still not really eating what I SHOULD be, such as me having M&Ms for breakfast today, but I’m watching the number of cals I’m consuming. I’m going to try to start cooking again, probably tonight (cuz I already thawed out food that I must now cook). I lost, somehow, 3 lbs overnight last night, and that’s great motivation to start being more conscious again and trying to lose again. Enough hiatus.

I think my break was probably good for me, though, since I do have so much that I’m trying to lose. It proved to me that I’m learning better portions of food, even if it’s not diet food, and that I can maintain my weight loss. I think it also gave my skin a little time to adjust to my being 15 lbs lighter… and I’m hoping things like that will keep me from having an excess skin problem as I lose.

I’m going to look into joining a gym, soon. Hoping there are pricing specials. I’d like to get back into weight lifting. I like weight lifting, and while in the past I’ve been deterred by the looks I get from people, I think I would just like to do it again. I’m good at it, and I like that ache you get from it. There’s a 24 gym by my house that isn’t a 24 Hour Fitness, and Imma look into them for a potential option. I don’t think I’ll run into people I know there.

FLASHBACK: In high school I took a weight lifting class and really enjoyed it. I was genuinely good at it, too. The problem was that the rest of the girls in my class were very thin and petite and would snicker at my ability to lift more than even about half the guys in the class. I was already the fat girl in the class, and then they made me feel like shit for being good at weight lifting. My self esteem wasn’t as good back then, and I took that very personally, so I stopped really trying to do anything in gym classes. This was my third attempt at a class I thought I’d like just to be ridiculed by idiot teenage girls. Later, after college, when I was going to the gym regularly, I started lifting with the guys that showed up the gym around 10. They were very nice to me and helped me out once in a while, but I started to notice people were staring at me. I was still fat. I’ve always been fat. I was also the only female looking person doing bench presses. All the other women at the gym seemed to stick to Zumba and the elliptical. Apparently weights are a man’s game, and cardio is a woman’s. While I like the elliptical, and at one point would do it for 2 hours before lifting or swimming, it just made me uncomfortable. So again I quit.

I’m also considering trying to find a dance class… but that’s still in the air. I don’t mean Zumba. I mean like a real dance class… but IDK that I will have time or money for that.

Anyways… that’s me.

How Many Times?

::queue Insane Clown Posse song from my youth that I never admit to liking but secretly know all the words to::

How many times will I restart a diet? How many times will I fail?

In this case… one more time.
So here I go again. I’m not happy about it. I’m not going to get my hopes super up… but I’m going to try. I’m going to try REALLY hard.

I found a website yesterday that showed me how I look now, versus how I COULD look if I reached my ideal weight.

modelmydiet.com

It was a really interesting moment for me.

You see… I’ve never been thin. I’ve been THINNER, but never thin. As far back as I can remember weighing myself, I’ve been 200lbs plus. So unlike some people that were once thing, and then became overweight, I’ve never had a comparison of what I could be. I just have always been me.

This imagine is probably the most inspirational thing I’ve seen in my weight loss journey. It’s defining. It gives a certain amount of tangibility to my journey and what I could accomplish if I really stick to it. It made me sad, though, because I am so far from this goal (135 lbs far, to be exact). Still, seeing it, seeing the end goal, is so much better than anything I could come up with in my head.

If you like this, btw, and would like to see how you would look at goal weight, the website was www.modelmydiet.com.

I Have Binge Eating Disorder

I’ve always been fat.

Let’s start there.
It’s not new to me. It’s not something that happened after high school and I have no idea how it happened. It’s not something that snuck up on me. It’s not something I’m unfamiliar with.
I was born a 9lb baby. That’s a big ass baby, if you didn’t know.
I was a chubby toddler, then a fat kid, then a fat teenager, and I topped out at a fat adult.

I wasn’t really aware that being fat was a bad thing for a long time. It was a non-issue as a kid, and remained one until I transferred into public school. Lots of thing happened when I transferred to public school:

  • I had problems making new friends
  • I was WAY ahead of the class
  • I had no sense of style, because up till then I had to wear a dress to school everyday, so I was really into jeans
  • I realized that I was kind of a nerd

Also, it was brought to my attention that being fat was something unacceptable. It didn’t get better in middle school, and actually progressed to the point that people hurled rocks at my head. They were also good shots, so I took more than one to the back of the head on my walks home from the bus stop. It was earth-shattering. I don’t think anything, in my whole life, including my shitty ass father, has made me so upset. No one ever did that before. I was just me, and people were just them, and we had all been friends, regardless.

Still, I managed to take those feelings, push them down, purify them into a gooey black substance, and coat my soul with it. I called that my goth phase, because that’s how I chose to show my frustration with the world. I still wasn’t pretty. I still wasn’t thin. I still didn’t seem acceptable. I was, however, scary and Columbine was still a really big thing, so people were wary that any day I might come to school and shoot them all in the face… so the bullying stopped there. I was cold, introverted, confused, hurt, and angry on top of all those other feelings adolescence already throws in your face. I still am, truth be told. I’m just less confused, now.

Somewhere in high school I started trying to diet. I wasn’t good at it. My friend’s mother also consistently fed us a diet of Gushers and French Bread Pizza every single time we came over, so that made dieting hard. Still, I was back in a circle of friends, and we varied in size and shape from “naturally meth-addict thin” to “whatever, I-love-cake fat” and I didn’t mind myself so much.

After high school I tried some other kinds of diets. The most effective was “don’t eat, smoke a lot, drink ridiculous quantities of espresso, and spend any and all free time at the gym so you don’t eat.” You might recognize that as an eating disorder. It definitely was. I lost a substantial amount of weight, but being a fat girl, people congratulated me. Eventually, though, I reached a point in my life that was hard. I have no coping mechanisms for hard… except eating. Thus ended my streak.

I didn’t used to binge eat like I do now. I can’t say when eating transitioned into something I could use to cope with unpleasant emotions. It’s just something I noticed I did. So, when my life got hard, and I got upset, and I realized I was binging, I did the natural thing… I purged.
Seemed logical: If you eat too much, just pull some back out.

I couldn’t keep up with that. It freaked me out when every single time I ate I became violently ill involuntarily. That’s when it dawned on me that normal people don’t pack themselves to capacity and then throw up to feel semi-normal again.

I’ve tried really hard to be normal since then. Reasonable diets, and reasonable exercise… but reasonable doesn’t show any results, and I still binge when I’m upset. I’m upset A LOT. I’m crazy, unmedicated, and have an excess of free time by myself. It seems to me that unless I totally stop eating and workout 4+ hours a day, I’m never going to lose any weight, just because that’s how I’m wired, now.

I’ve tried Paleo, Vegan, Vegetarian, Pescatarian, Weight Watchers, Adkins, HCG… You name it, I tried it and it failed me… or I failed it… None of those programs are designed to deal with someone that is incapable of dealing with themselves without using food to shove down all the bad feelings. You’d think vegan would work, because you’re eating just veg, so maybe you could binge on veg and not feel bad about it, but here’s the thing… veg is not a satisfying food unless it’s deep fried. When you’re attempting to push something like self hatred down into your stomach and you’re packing it down with carrots… it doesn’t work. I have eaten so many god damn carrots, just to get fed up, get in my car, go to whatever drive thru was closest, and then further pack grease on top of carrots… to the point I made myself physically ill. It was obscene, and I’m glad no one I know witnessed me eating… prolly close to 7 lbs of food… 5lbs of which were totally unsatisfying carrots. It was miserable and not at all good.

So how do normal people cope with feelings? Seriously, I’d love to know. As an unmedicated bipolar with a myriad of co-morbid traits from EVERY personality disorder, all I do is wade through the shit of the emotional lottery. Will going to work make me want to brutally murder and dismember everyone I see because they’re morons and worthless sacks of flesh that just contribute to the overpopulation of the earth? Am I going to have that feeling where I want to crawl under my desk and die, today? Am I going to start crying because I can’t add up a ticket correctly? Maybe my pants don’t fit right today. Maybe I keep dropping things. Maybe it’s one of those days that the boss asks me a bunch of questions I can’t even begin to answer and then gets frustrated when I need some time to investigate answers. Maybe absolutely nothing is wrong, but I just burst out into rage and tears, and have to figure out what to do instead of hurling things at people and windows.

How the fuck am I supposed to cope with that?

Know what triggered today? Know why I’m angry and frustrated and sad and want to either binge eat Mexican food or smash things into little bitty pieces or possibly even smash someone’s face in until they’re just unrecognizable wet bone? Want to know? I was supposed to go have my Well Woman physical today. Quite the unpleasant day, but then the doctor’s office moved my appointment to tomorrow and didn’t tell me. So I took time from work, got my mother to drive me to my appointment (it snowed… I can’t fuck with certain levels of snow) only to find out we’d been waiting for 15 mins for no reason, and that I have to get back out there to BFE tomorrow.

So I’m mad. And I want to eat or hurt someone. I can do neither. I’m freaking out. I hate everything. Part of me wants to die.