Father's Day 2011

Wow yesterday morning was so so hard. SO hard.

First of all, after that great weigh-in early in the week, my weight kept inching upward. The perplexing part was that I was, as far as I know, doing everything right. I had the best week of workouts I've had in probably 2 months. I tracked every single (non-point) thing that I put in my mouth. As a bonus, I even made a conscious effort to drink less pop (successful but still room for improvement). However, in the end I was up 3.2 lbs for this week.

My main reaction was confusion, not anger or disappointment or wanting to give up. I was (and still am) perplexed, but my focus remains on doing the right thing -- eating nutritious food, tracking my points, and exercising regularly and aggressively. The weight will follow. I will only get concerned about the scale if my gains continue over the course of, say, a month. For now, there could be a myriad of causes -- water weight, hormones, stuff caught in my system, etc. Nonetheless, it got the morning off to a lackluster start.

That morning, our regular pastor was out of town. His pinch hitter is, at best, weak. Sometimes he's so glib he's even offensive. It is tough to sit through, and gets tougher with time. For this reason I wasn't excited to go to church. However, I texted some people and decided I should go. One of my friends texted me:

It's father's day and you know he loves his kids a lot so maybe it won't be so bad.

Then it hit me: "Oh shit, he's right. It's father's day and they will talk about this in church." And that's where the REAL fun for the day began, and I had an immediate and very very strong inclination to binge which I haven't done in a good 2-3 months thanks in no small part to OA.

I was a messy flood of tears, mostly sad and angry about my poor-to-non-existant relationship with my father who is an emotionally vacant and even emotionally abusive shell of a man. His behaviors have had long lasting and very deep implications on our fractured family. In addition to being mad about how much he had let me and the rest of my family down, I was mad at myself for my eating disorder and dysfunctional relationship with food which was making me want to binge with everything inside of me.

My reaction in the past would have been immediately to jump to the "screw it" stage and to soothe myself with food. I was determined to do what I could to avoid this situation from playing out let again.

I asked God for help. "Please let this compulsion pass."

One of the things you hear about in compulsive overeating circles is the need to "sit with the feelings" -- you have to really feel your feelings rather than just muting them or covering them over with copious amounts of food. Well I can tell you, in the moment, sitting with (binge food of choice) is a hell of a lot more comfortable than sitting with feelings when the feelings are so deep and hurtful and so shitty. But yesterday, I sat with my feelings. For a good 45 minutes to an hour I sat with my feelings on my bed and cried and cried and cried. I held tight to the serenity prayer, and I prayed for the compulsion to overeat to pass. And after awhile it did.

I was so grateful for God's help in surviving the compulsion to overeat -- the strongest compulsion I'd had for a long time. It also made me think, wow maybe it is actually possible with God's help to be restored to sanity when it comes to food (step 2). While I believed this step in my head, I think I am starting to actually see evidence of it in my life, and for this I am very grateful.

Binge

Last night I had one of the first binges I've had in probably 2 or 3 months. It was not good. I told some friends about some interesting/surprising/crappy stuff going on in my personal life and it was harder than I expected. While I am glad that I shared with them, it was surprisingly difficult to let them in on some of the stuff I consider embarrassing, shameful and central to my life.

I first of all want to apologize for being intentionally ambiguous, but I know that a couple my students read this and I don't want to really go there so publicly. Anyway, I told my friends about this situation that I deal with (and have been for about 10+ years now) and it is never fun to talk about or deal with. I told them that it was like a scab had formed over the wound, however, and now the recent developments - while potentially positive - were just ripping the scab right off and exposing some very real hurts underneath. This might be necessary for healing, but I can tell you it still sucks.

I am glad my friends now know and can help support me through this unpleasant situation. However, I was surprised at how unsettled the whole thing left me. I went home by way of Walmart and picked up a bunch of food -- cheese, salami, pretzels, and green onion dip. The funny thing is I thought to myself "You KNOW this will not make you feel better. STOP IT!!!" Like a defiant child, however, I soldiered out of that Walmart with crappy food in hand and ate it. I threw a lot of it away, but still, I ate a lot of it. Yuck. Not one of my finer moments.

The thing is, the situation I'm referring to is crappy. However, there is little or nothing I can do about it. This situation has already caused me (and all of our family) anguish and heartache, so why would I let it bother me more and impede my progress to live a healthy life? The reality is, removing myself from the situation is what I believe to be best for my mental health. That is not always possible, but a large part of the time it is. Engaging in the situation just makes me want to eat and feel sorry for myself, and last night I went there. It was not a proud moment. However, it is a moment I can learn from so that is what I need to do. Learn from it and move on. Maybe in time I can even face this and overcome my instinctual reactions to this situation, but one of the hardest parts is knowing that I cannot change it. There is nothing you can do to make someone else want to change. And knowing that sucks, but is not worth overeating about.

Facing the Music

This week I was up 4.8 lbs.

I could say that it is because I haven't been drinking much water. I could say that the reason was that I am likely to be retaining water because it is TOM. I could blame it on the fact that I couldn't exercise much this week because of how much my tooth hurt and because I have been sick (having a lot of head stuffiness and/or the beginnings of a cold and just generally feel tired and crappy). I could say that because I've been feeling gross I've been eating out more.

All of these things are true. But it's also true that my eating has sucked and that I accept responsibility for this gain. That's the more honest thing to do.

Although I am really disappointed -- disappointed in myself, not just in the number on the scale -- I have to say there are some mixed blessings in this gain...some things that actually make me feel normal. Let me share two.

1. I have never understood when magazines or people talk about wanting to lose 5 lbs. It always seemed so insignificant to me at almost 300 lbs. "Ooooh, you lose 5 lbs! Then you weigh 295." It just didn't compute to me. This week, after gaining 5 lbs. I saw how it could make a difference. My clothes are tighter and I just feel bigger, especially my stomach. I don't like it. However, it is nice to feel like 5 lbs. matter. I guess I can start to see where "normal" sized people feel like that, even though I still 50+ lbs. overweight.
2. I also never understood water retention. As I have been losing weight, I can recognize it when the scale goes up by 2-3 lbs. when my eating has not been bad that it is probably water weight or fluid retention. I understand it on a cerebral level, but I have never actually felt the water weight. Now that I am more conscious in my appearance, I notice that rings fit more tightly when I am retaining water. I can also tell that my face appears slightly puffier. Although I am not a fan of water weight, I am a fan of being more in touch with my body and small enough to notice changes due to a couple lbs. instead of having that be so insignificant at a larger size.

So, that's my report for the week. It is not really great news. In fact, I think I have passed the "disappointed in myself this week" point and gotten to the "ashamed and seriously disgusted with myself" point. That is always dangerous because it makes me want to binge. And I seriously almost did today. And yesterday. However, I talked myself off the ledge both times. My eating was still poor and I'm not proud of it, but I did not eat bags of candy, chips, and cartons of ice cream and I am extremely proud of that -- especially considering how close I was to doing it not once but twice (as in, into the car both times and on my way to get binge food). I count the small victories when they are hard to come by.

Binge

Today as I mentioned I felt crappy. Last night I just could not sleep for more than an hour, waking up very often because of a toothache and a bad headache. Today I still had a headache, I felt slightly achy, and I just felt very emotionally off. I went to work, did my best, had my meetings, and finally ended up leaving at around 12:45 to come home and sleep and try to get better and get some more work done.

I knew I was on edge. I wasn't sure why. I ended up going on a premeditated binge. It was gross and terrible. And the funny thing is as I was standing in line at Target with my pulsing headache and basket full of peanut butter M+Ms, chip dip, and pretzels on my way to get a burger, I knew I would feel like trash after I ate all of this stuff. However for some reason I wanted to eat all the stuff so badly that I did it. And, sure enough, I felt like trash emotionally after I ate all the stuff. And having to clean up the trash after I took a nap was just like a slap in the face, reminding me of my failure.

I am trying to understand not only what causes these binges, but also to figure out what I can do instead of actually following through with them. I know they are bad news, so why do I do them? They remind me of Romans 7:15.

For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.

I want a do over

Do you ever do something that you think will be amazing and/or that you build up really high expectations for only to be completely....underwhelmed? It's not a great feeling.

That would describe my eating this week. The week got off to a rough start with the holiday weekend. We had a welcome back to school picnic on Sunday, and those are always rough. I have to say everyone really rose to the occasion on this potluck bringing delicious (but not always healthy) treats instead of lame-o bags of chips. I definitely indulged. I didn't feel like it rose to the level of an out and out binge, but it was indulgent. I also took home some potato salad (probably three servings worth) and I ate it all that evening. It reminded me of the days of bingeing in secret and I do not like that feeling. It was bad.

I thought I would get back to tracking everything on Monday. I forget exactly what happened, but I ended up just not feeling like it. I also didn't feel like it Tuesday. Then I figured "Why bother this week?" AKA, the downward spiral. The worst part is that in retrospect it really wasn't even worth it. There was nothing that I had that I was like "You know, it was totally worth the ____ calories to have this _____." I had a lot of good stuff but nothing that was absolutely amazing or noteworthy or worth losing a week over.

Wednesday I had the closest thing I have had to a binge in awhile. It is probably the weirdest one I have ever had, or at least the weirdest one I can remember. Usually when I binge, I know why. I am sad or tired or feeling deprived. I feel like I am giving in but then it's like I lose control, or more accurately I feel like I surrender to food. I take a back seat and some weird primal desire to eat takes over. Wednesday I ate a ton -- I ate an entire calzone. I made red velvet cookies and some cream cheese frosting, and I ate half the cookies and made a serious dent in the frosting. The food was very much like a binge. However, my head was totally in control. It was like I was deciding to eat the food -- it was a willful (albeit poor) choice. I don't know how to describe it but to say that I was feeling some sense of agency over the food situation instead of being a hostage to food like I typically feel during a binge. In a weird dysfunctional way it was a nice feeling to feel like I had some control over the food, although I still do wonder why I did make such poor food choices.

The next morning I was up 4 lbs. It was not "real" weight, but I was like "OK, this has to stop." I threw away the rest of the cookies I made, and washed the frosting down the drain and threw away the sugar I bought to make it. I don't feel good about wasting food, but I feel less stable having it around the house and was not even confident I could take the food to school to share without breaking into it on the way to school...so I tossed it.

Over the rest of the week, I made more poor decisions but basically the weight is all gone and I expect to be even for the week -- nothing lost or gained. We will see for sure tomorrow.

I am trying to process through why this all happens, and what to do about it so that I reach a happy medium on how I can handle this from here on out.

• I think I need to have a realistic plan on how to deal with holidays and/or high stakes food challenges like potlucks. I need to find a way to allow myself treats there and to not feel deprived, but not something that is so lackadaisical that it will spiral into wasting a whole week not eating healthily. I think this is likely to be something beyond just the extra 35 points I am allowed for WW.
• I need to figure out something that won't have me baking very often. Making an entire batch of cookies is a bad idea unless there is a very specific plan on what they are for -- a plan that isn't "eat them all until you are disgusted with yourself".
• Daily weighing for me is really helpful. With my industrial engineering training, I am familiar with the concept of variance and how daily fluctuations happen as a result of hormones, salt intake, hydration levels, and other stuff -- that doesn't bother me. However, seeing the +4 lbs overnight is something that scared me straight. Had I not seen that the morning following my faux-binge, I am virtually certain I would have finished the cookies I made and made a further dent in the frosting.
• While I love the concept of the weekly "reset" on WW the day of your weigh in, I feel like this week I used that as an excuse to waste time eating crap for an entire week rather than just getting it together and starting over ASAP. I need to figure out why I allowed myself to use this as an excuse.

I feel like lately I am in some really weird place. I feel like I take 10 steps forward and then 9 steps back. While the net result is progress, it has been REALLY slow and there is definitely no one sabotaging me but myself. I am not sure how much credit to give myself for continuing to make progress while working through issues vs. how hard I should be on myself for not battening the hatches and just hunkering down and doing the work (i.e., should I be proud of the net one step forward, or angry at myself for the 9 steps back?).

I would still really love to lose about 10 lbs. before I go to Disney World. This will not happen unless I am more consistent. Here is to a new week - one where I am back in control rather than surrendering my power to the food.

Disappointment - aka an emotional vomit

Can I just say starting from about 7 PM last night, I want a do over? Because I do. Especially from today, around 9 AM.

First of all, Sunday is my new weigh-in day for WW. This was my first week back on the program an this morning I was down to 235.2, which is a 3.8 lb loss from last week. On the one hand, this is fabulous! GREAT news. On the other hand, I can't help but be a bit disappointed because yesterday I was down to 233 (2 lbs lower than what I weighed in today). I realize that it is completely illogical to be disappointed because this extra couple pounds is water weight, and also because losing 4 lbs in a week is fantastic! It all comes back to this root problem of being extra hard on myself which I always have been and, apparently, continue to be. I guess I will be in counseling forever.

This morning I went to church. It is my second time giving this church a go. I thought it was fine. I promised my counselor I would give it another go (the important thing not being going to this particular church or even going to church at all, but more just facing the fear of going). I did it. I even thought it was ok. After church, a couple people (Tara and Josh) I sat next to were friendly and chatty. I really appreciated that. I might even go so far as to say that I needed that -- as the new-to-this-church pastor gave his sermon, he said over and over things about how people 'out there' were lonely and feeling the need to belong to a family, and how important it was to be friendly, welcoming, and inviting. This could not have resonated with me more. I tried to hold back my tears (and did so mostly with success, but some did leak out from time to time), and was so genuinely appreciative that at least two of the people who attended the church listened to and acted upon the pastor's admonition to be friendly and make people feel welcome. I really, truly needed that. I left thinking, "You know, I kind of hate about 80% of church, and I absolutely understand why non-Christians think 90% of Christians are crazy...yet there are some underlying truths here that just keep drawing me back like a moth to a light even though I am terrified of putting myself out there and getting hurt again." (forgive the run-on sentence)

After church I came home and chatted with a friend online about a crazy conversation I had with a friend from grad school last night (hence wanting the d0-over to start at 7 PM last night). Fortunately, the friend reassured me that I am not in fact crazy, and that my point of view is logical and not just emotional or ill-reasoned. I felt validated.

I had an unshakeable craving for deep-dish Chicago pizza this afternoon. I decided to go get some. Now this is not at all WW points friendly. Especially if you get it with sausage. I decided I was going to do it anyway. I ended up eating half of a 12" pizza. I could have done more, but decided that not only did I not need to, but that I would regret it if I did. I wanted to take the other half home, but I ended up leaving it at pizza parlor because I cannot see a good way to enjoy this in moderation, save it for later (later being 1-2 months when I treat myself to this again, not tomorrow for lunch), or fit it into my current eating plan. Some googling online indicates that a slice of Chicago style pizza has about 500-600 calories. I ate four pieces; nice work, champ. The truth is I could have finished that thing though, so I do deserve some credit for not doing that.

I decided to go to the gym afterwards. I had not been since Thursday (though I did go biking and do an abs video yesterday), so I wanted to do some cardio and weight lifting today. After 18 minutes on the elliptical I said "You know what? This just is not going to happen today." I felt this unmistakeable despair and just these doldrums of life. Almost like I couldn't go on.

On the way home I was reflecting. Why did I feel so down? Why did "this" -- the overdoing the pizza, the quitting at the gym -- happen? I began to piece things together.

I think it is because I am afraid. I am really afraid of getting involved in a church. I am afraid of putting myself out there to once again either feel like I need to change who I fundamentally am to belong, or to feel like there is no place for me. It's as though I'd rather be lonely or sit on the sidelines than to try once again to get involved and have my feelings smashed.

I have felt over and over again disappointment with churches and with Christians. Why do I still go to church (very intermittently, and with incredible fear)? Why are people who are supposed to care and exhibit the love of Christ so very often vapid and superficial and one-dimensional? Especially when they so often categorically reject my brother, who is one of the people I hold nearest to my heart for something I feel he has no control over (being gay)? And if I am over it, why do I care one way or the other, or even try to go at all? I have no idea. And why are people who are supposed to be friendly and welcoming so often cliquey, judgmental and just, frankly, so often boring? And so, on the way home, I bought a pint of ice cream (which honestly did not even taste that good) and the jar of Nutella I've been pining over for a month.

In 30 years of living and 25 years of church going, I would have considered myself a part of a reasonably well-functioning, healthy church experience once for about 2-3 years in grad school. Every time else I have either felt miserably uncomfortable, completely used, or have had my trust grossly violated. Predictably, I am not so excited about getting involved again. Especially with about a 10% success rate. Instead of feeling all this stuff -- this fear, this anxiety, this mistrust -- and dealing with it, I decided just to stuff it down and quiet it with food. Predictably, it tasted great but left me completely unfulfilled.

Now I am disappointed with myself. The only reason I joined Weight Watchers again (well besides the obvious that I wanted to lose weight, and that I know it will work) is that I thought I was mentally in a place where I was stable enough to get over these speed-bumps of life. Tonight I question that.

The general truism that "Losing weight is simple - you have to move more and eat less/better" is true, but it is far too simplified. I have to deal with whatever is going on in my head to have any hope of being able to make it through life without food as a crutch, or friend, or support. And that is where I am. And it really ain't pretty right now.

Wisdom from the Counselor

When I talked to the counselor about wanting to be able to enjoy food -- including things that probably aren't considered amazing choices like cheese dip and pizza -- she had something really insightful and great to say. She suggested enjoying those things, but not when sad. When you're sad, you go for healthy things. You work to use food to fuel your body, but you don't pick things that are "bad" choices when you're feeling down. Food is not for comfort, food is for fuel and to enjoy in moderation.

Only eat cheese dip (or whatever your food achilles heel is) when you feel sane, calm, and normal about food. When sad, stay clear of it.

I guess I will not have any tonight, even though I thought to myself "Man I should get some cheese tonight!". I am grateful she told me that, or else I would likely have eaten an entire block myself tonight.

Mess mess messity mess

Today I am a mess. My back/hip issues have been so so bad lately. Yesterday I had a trip for work that I could basically under no circumstances miss. The meeting I had to attend took place about 3-3.5 hrs away from home, and I was beyond apprehensive about the drive. Fortunately a colleague was willing to do the driving, allowing me to lay down in the back seat the majority of the time. The same colleague helped me to adjust my leg length, temporarily relieving some of the pain and allowing me to sit up for the 3 hr meeting and the lunch that followed. By the time we got back though, I was spent. I laid down flat on my back when I got home around 5 PM, and that felt great. So great, actually, that I fell asleep until 11 PM. I woke up, watched a little TV, took some more ibuprofen, and then tried to go to sleep again around 1. I woke up this morning at 6. For those keeping score, that's 13 hours of sleep in 24 hours (I had to be up at 3:40 to go on the trip).

Today was supposed to be the only day I am in the office, as I leave for another fracking trip tomorrow. I really wanted to go in and take care of a lot of stuff (I was only in the office one day last week as well because of travel), but unfortunately there was absolutely no way that could happen. The pain was simply excruciating and intolerable.

I called the doctor first thing this morning and was very fortunate to get her last appointment for the day, which was around noon. I needed to get a referral for physical therapy (which was helpful but really dragged out last time these SI joint issues presented themselves), and was hoping to get something that would help get me through my trip this week.

When the doctor came in, I immediately started crying. This really surprised me, but is a testament to both how badly this injury hurts, and how absolutely insanely frustrated I am. She gave me a cortisone shot, and controlled-substance-level prescriptions for both muscle relaxers (Flexerol) and pain relief (Lortab). She also told me, "If I could tell you the absolute worst thing to do, it would be to travel and to be forced to sit for long periods." As luck has it, of course, this is the day before I fly to Louisville for a three day 8:30-5 workshop that I was totally stoked to attend.

This morning, my stomach was really letting me know it was super hungry, probably because I went to bed (aka fell asleep on the floor) at 5 without eating dinner, and had only a banana when I woke up from 11-1. Although the physical signs of hunger were there, I didn't want to eat. I could not believe it. This behavior was totally uncharacteristic of me. I just didn't want to have to find a way to sit comfortably, and I could not think of a way to eat lying flat on my back. I ended up eating a bowl of oatmeal with a banana, blueberries, and milk -- but I didn't want to eat it.

For lunch, I was again hungry and I was a little more excited about eating, but not all that much. I ate two tacos.

When I went to pick up my prescriptions this afternoon, I started crying immediately upon entering the Walmart. I was just so so frustrated, and I wanted to binge. I wasn't hungry, but I wanted red velvet cake. I wanted ice cream. I wanted chips and dip. I wanted chocolate. I wanted basically everything.

I thought about that morning in the doctor's office. The technician guessed I weighed somewhere between 160-180 (down from last time when she guessed 180-200). These last 10-15 lbs I have lost have really made a difference in my appearance. Several people have told me they think I look great now, and a few have even suggested that I stop losing weight. I thought about this and weighed it against the prospect of a huge binge. I thought about the two donuts I ate the day before, and how they tasted great but made me feel tired, sluggish, and not myself. I thought about the new clothes I have bought, and how I am maybe 10-15 lbs away from being out of the plus sized section and able to shop in "regular" stores. I also thought about how I just feel better about myself now.

I decided I like my current life better than my old one -- even with this temporary injury -- and reminded myself that binges really lead to nothing good. I cried the entire way through Walmart (and felt like an idiot, but fortunately ran into no one I knew) -- partially out of pain and partially because my brain was screaming for junk food. I steeled myself, and I made it out of there only with my prescriptions, some cottage cheese, and some mandarin orange slices. These are admittedly a treat, but a calculated one.

I am sick of feeling bad, but I am proud of myself for remembering that food will not fix this problem. If anything, carrying more weight will mess up my SI joint even worse. I hope I feel better soon, but I am glad that the mental aspect of figuring out how to live a healthier lifestyle is something that -- at least for now -- I am still able to control.

Today I am sad

I don't really know why, but I am. I am incredibly sad, and I don't like it.

This afternoon I was so so lonely. I am single and I have not made too many friends since I moved here almost exactly three years ago. I tried in earnest for awhile, gave up, had a renewed burst of trying, and eventually settled into a place where I thought I was content even though I don't have too many friends here.

I am an introvert. I like me time. I love it actually. I love feeling like I can do what I want, when I want, unencumbered by feeling like I am inconveniencing someone else. I generally don't feel uncomfortable eating by myself, traveling by myself, etc.

But sometimes I just want friends.

I tried to find a church that I liked. I went to one here for awhile, but it was a square peg round hole situation. And I'm always hypersensitive about people judging/hating on the gays because my brother is gay. I just won't go somewhere that would not tolerate him as he is probably one of if not my very best friend, and I fundamentally believe that being gay is not a choice. Given that it is not a choice, I feel it is cruel that God would ostracize someone who he made, in the eyes of the church, "wrong". I wrestle a lot with this.

I have some work friends I like a lot, but we do not hang out much. There are different reasons which I won't go into here. I love them, but most of them are in very different stages of life than me. This makes it hard both to find time to get together and on some level a little bit harder for us to relate.

I don't know where else one goes to find friends and, to be perfectly honest, I am pretty guarded and jaded about the whole thing. I joined the hiking club, but I don't go regularly like I should. I want to join the beginners bike riders group but I haven't. It's almost like I am afraid of getting let down again and not finding friends there either -- but let's not forget the wisdom of Wayne Gretzky who said, "You will miss 100% of the shots you don't take."

I don't feel like I'm that odd. A little eccentric, sure, but not out and out odd. I've had lots of friends in the past but, upon reflection, every other stage in my life I have been in a very friend-rich environment with high turnover and lots of new people and friend making opportunities. I miss that.

So today I am sad and I wish I had more friends here. I am getting so much better at acknowleding underlying feelings and dealing with them in ways other than gorging myself. Today, however, I let food be my friend and, wouldn't you know it, I still feel lonely.

Ironically, this week I bought the Geneen Roth book "Breaking Free from Emotional Eating." I have been too scared to start it, but I should just suck it up. I really do want to decouple food from my emotions, both happy and sad. Today I am such a mess.

Down

Man I am down tonight. My eating was atrocious today. I ate:

Breakfast - 1/2 - 3/4 of a Sam's club sized tub o' hummus, 3/4 sleeve Zesta crackers, 3 cups milk.

Lunch - 1.25 lbs King Crab, mashed potatoes (2 potatoes worth, reasonable amount of 1/2 and 1/2 and butter) -- this would have been a legit meal were it not for the lack of vegetables.

Dinner - (this is the worst part) 1 large thin crust Papa John's pizza with onions, sausage, and cheese. THE.WHOLE.THING. Also about 1 L diet Coke.

Sigh. 2010 cannot be my year if I binge like this very often, as I have for the last 2 Sundays.

Although thus far n = 2, I'd say we're starting a trend here -- a trend of bingeing on Sundays that I don't like and must curtail. What is happening? What can I do to stop it?

Well to start, hummus has always been something that I have enjoyed and I think it has now risen to the level of a trigger food. Time to get that out of the house. I don't think I can have it around anymore (though anyone is welcome to invite me over and I will gladly eat some of your hummus, and because of cultural norms I'm unlikely to eat the whole tub when I'm at your house!). Sigh. I didn't even want the crackers I ate with the hummus to be honest. I just felt less gross eating hummus with crackers than doing the finger dip in hummus trick (I guess I'm classing it up in my old age -- I used to not be ashamed to dip my finger in a tub o' frosting! Over and over until the whole thing was gone. Sheesh, I wonder how I ever reached breaths away from being 300 lbs?!).

More fundamentally, I think I am feeling sad and jipped on the weekends. The pressure and volume of work at my job lately does not permit me to have legitimate weekends these days. Yes, I work less on weekends than I do on the weekdays, but I really do resent having to work so much on the weekends. Today, for example, I would bet that I worked 6 hours. That pisses me off. I think I ate partially to deal with that. The thing is, bingeing hurts no one but myself and it puts me in an even deeper funk than just working so much does -- something I definitely don't need/want as baggage to start the week off with! Does anyone have any coping strategies around this one? I think I need to find a way to get this all out. It might be time to start therapy again.

It is still hard to feel like my friend options are so limited. I have made a couple new friends lately, but with most of them (not all) I feel like there is something forced about these friendships. I feel that I can't whine about not having friends if I don't do stuff with people I don't know well (i.e., make attempts to gain friendships), but some of them end up just being such a waste of effort. I feel awkward around them, and not at all like I have the freedom to be myself. I have a hard time justifying spending the time on building these friendships when I am so exhausted and my time is stretched thin to start with. I mean, by Fridays I am usually so spent -- for example, this week I fell asleep this Friday on the couch at 6:30, woke up and went right to bed at 8, was up between midnight and 1, and then slept until around 5:30.

On the weekdays it feels like the busy-ness I experience is justified. I get up early, work hard all day, work out, come home, sometimes work and sometimes don't, pack lunch, pack workout clothes, go to sleep around 10 or 10:30, and get up the next morning and start it all over again. I have (besides the workout time) usually 1-2 hours plus lunch to myself or with work friends. I hate having to give the weekends up too.

You know, another thing that might play into these binges is fear. I used to think it was such a line of BS when people losing weight would talk about being afraid once they started losing the weight. For example, one common thing I would hear from women (especially those who have been in destructive relationships or have trust issues with men) is that once they lose weight, guys start hitting on them again, they freak out, and then they balloon up. While I'm nowhere near the point that this is happening (I still weigh more than 250 lbs people!!!), on some level I do think my recent weight loss has freaked me out a little. The binges might be an attempt to sabotage that. This week I was losing 0.8 lbs everyday. Last week I lost 4.4 lbs. As far as I can tell, I am not doing anything unhealthy -- I work out a lot, I eat all of my WW points (and almost always use all 35 free points and am not shy about using my activity points, although I do like to have a balance of 35 when the week is over). However, I am losing weight at a faster than recommended pace, and that scares me a bit, perhaps to the point that it played into the binge. That is no reason to self sabotage, yet I am doing it.

This post has been all over the place. I do not know what is causing the bingeing. The bingeing bothers me, makes me feel ashamed, is not worth it in the end, and is not healthy for me. But yet I do it anyway. I don't think I know why. I want to cry when I think about it. I am not sure what the void is, but I am using food to fill some kind of void. Food was not meant to fill any sort of a void, and it is unable to do that -- it is simply fuel for my body. I need to figure out what is causing these binges, work to alleviate whatever that is, and STOP IT!!! 2010 is so my year, but it can't be if I sabotage myself like this weekly.

Edited to add - I am usually not one to beg for comments, but I need to tonight. I feel really alone on this one. If you have any hypotheses, experiences or encouragement to share, I would really appreciate it. I am really trying to figure this out and dig myself out of, not deeper into, this funk. If you can't/don't want to comment -- please FB message, text, or e-mail me if you feel so inclined. Thank you so much.