I don’t meant to overstate this, but in all seriousness, I recently had a day unlike any other I’ve experienced. I’m still processing the why’s and how’s, so I’m not sure I can properly articulate what a screwy day it was. But let’s try, shall we?
I woke up feeling decently energetic—something I hadn’t felt for a few days, as I was knee deep in a no sugar/caffeine/dairy/gluten cleanse. I wasn’t craving coffee (that badly, anyway) and I felt physically light (always a good thing).
As the day progressed, I noticed that my hunger did, as well. I grew hungrier and hungrier, even though I had all my planned-out meals, snacks, and gigantic water bottle by my side. I ate my food, and I drank bottle after bottle of water. Each time I felt a craving or mentally thought about my hunger, I took another few gulps.
And then it was the afternoon—that perilous time in my day where I’m hungry, sleepy, and constantly talking myself out of my evening workout. That day was a bit different. After lunch, I started thinking about how delicious a McDonald’s cheeseburger sounded. Then it was cookies. And ice cream. Then I wanted a giant bag of sour cream and onion potato chips. I finally found myself thinking that it was an okay idea—a good one, even, that I deserved it—to, after work, buy enough food to feed a family of six (just like I used to do in the not-so-distant past) and then sit my fat butt down in a chair at home and eat it all in front of the TV.
What? Where did this come from?
I was so disturbed and shaken up from this nagging thought process that I had to get up from my desk and find something to seriously distract myself. Seeing as how I couldn’t just leave work and head to the gym (I so wish I could!), I opted for a walk around the building and some positive but stern self-talk:
“Your end goal in all of this is so much more important, so much better than any amount of food.”
“Think about how horrible you’ll feel—physically and emotionally—if you cave into this.”
“Why are you craving this right now? What’s going on?”
And that’s what I don’t understand—the why. Where did this incredibly strong urge to binge come from—especially after a very successful few weeks? Was it hormones? Was it the damn cleanse that I not-so-secretly hated?
Or is it just part of my continued recovery?
During the course of this…whole…thing, I read Emily’s post on binging. I saw so much of myself in that post—including the recovering addict. Yes, I believe I have a food addiction. Yes, that’s a real thing. Yes, I’ll continue to struggle to overcome that which has consumed me for the better part of my 28 years. But, yes, I will continue to fight.
With another sip of water.
Another spin class.
Another courageous, common sense, difficult, healthy choice.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: the mental aspect of this journey, as I’m learning, is far, far more challenging than the physical. People tend to ignore it, but as I recently learned (and shared), that’s not the best idea. That beast will rise up when you least expect it and, if you’re not careful, throw you completely off course. I’m not yet sure how to squelch it, or even really address it. But, again, I will continue to try and fight it the best I can. One healthy (in every sense of the word) decision after another.