I've Got A Secret
I've got a secret, only it's not a good one. And anyone who looks at me knows it's not a secret. I've gained 25lbs back. I'm ashamed, angry and mortified. It is unforgivable. I thought I had it all figured out. I was so arrogant in my belief that I was better.
It started in January when I made it my goal to get to my target weight by losing the last 5-6lbs. I had lost 60lbs over the previous year. It gradually snowballed. Every day I started out with the goal of eating healthy and sticking to the plan and by the end of the day it was a distant memory. The food binges had returned. The desire to numb myself with food was and is huge.
Secret food binges are nothing new to me. I can remember binging as a child, desperate to get food in me. Rushing home from school and eating until I was no longer what? I've done this my whole life. I'm not even sure I can explain it. Desperate, panicky, ravenous for something to ease the mental pain of simply trying to be me in a world that I'm not sure has a place for me in it. Every mouthful of food is like saying to myself, "this is how much I hate you". About this time Dr Phil, if he were here, would say, "How's that working for you". It's not.
I had hoped that by losing weight, I would finally find someone to love and who loves me. Well guess what, men didn't like me any better thin. I see women all the time fatter than me, uglier than me, dumber than me and they have someone who loves them. It must be me. I will be honest, I have never really liked men, they scare me, and they intimidate me, both physically and mentally. I married the first man who loved me, because I was sure no one else ever would. It bothers me that men never look past the physical to uncover the awesomeness inside. But ah ha you say, "if she hates herself there is no awesomeness inside". You would be right. How I feel about myself colors how I feel about men.
There is a hole in my soul, a large, gaping, rotting wound. It's where my loneliness, my pain, and my self hatred reside. It's also where this little, helpless girl ,who has been crying out for help, lives. When I was thin, I thought she was gone. But she has proven to be a force to be reckoned with. When a child is hurting and sad, you don't feed them ice cream and cookies, you hold them and care for them. Binging isn't working out for me. I need to hear the little girl in my soul. She wasn't heard years ago, but it's time. I just don't know how to do it.
One thing I do know, losing weight is not about will power, it's about how you feel about yourself! If I don't work on that, then by overeating and binging I am slowly choosing a form of suicide. I don't want to end up like my mother, always searching for happiness, but never finding it. And I don't want to die of morbid obesity and the diseases that come with it. I don't want my dirty secrets anymore and I don't want to numb myself. I don't want these to be just words written in a blog. At 47, it's time to take care of all of me.
It started in January when I made it my goal to get to my target weight by losing the last 5-6lbs. I had lost 60lbs over the previous year. It gradually snowballed. Every day I started out with the goal of eating healthy and sticking to the plan and by the end of the day it was a distant memory. The food binges had returned. The desire to numb myself with food was and is huge.
Secret food binges are nothing new to me. I can remember binging as a child, desperate to get food in me. Rushing home from school and eating until I was no longer what? I've done this my whole life. I'm not even sure I can explain it. Desperate, panicky, ravenous for something to ease the mental pain of simply trying to be me in a world that I'm not sure has a place for me in it. Every mouthful of food is like saying to myself, "this is how much I hate you". About this time Dr Phil, if he were here, would say, "How's that working for you". It's not.
I had hoped that by losing weight, I would finally find someone to love and who loves me. Well guess what, men didn't like me any better thin. I see women all the time fatter than me, uglier than me, dumber than me and they have someone who loves them. It must be me. I will be honest, I have never really liked men, they scare me, and they intimidate me, both physically and mentally. I married the first man who loved me, because I was sure no one else ever would. It bothers me that men never look past the physical to uncover the awesomeness inside. But ah ha you say, "if she hates herself there is no awesomeness inside". You would be right. How I feel about myself colors how I feel about men.
There is a hole in my soul, a large, gaping, rotting wound. It's where my loneliness, my pain, and my self hatred reside. It's also where this little, helpless girl ,who has been crying out for help, lives. When I was thin, I thought she was gone. But she has proven to be a force to be reckoned with. When a child is hurting and sad, you don't feed them ice cream and cookies, you hold them and care for them. Binging isn't working out for me. I need to hear the little girl in my soul. She wasn't heard years ago, but it's time. I just don't know how to do it.
One thing I do know, losing weight is not about will power, it's about how you feel about yourself! If I don't work on that, then by overeating and binging I am slowly choosing a form of suicide. I don't want to end up like my mother, always searching for happiness, but never finding it. And I don't want to die of morbid obesity and the diseases that come with it. I don't want my dirty secrets anymore and I don't want to numb myself. I don't want these to be just words written in a blog. At 47, it's time to take care of all of me.
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