“Mirrors should think longer before they reflect.” -Jean Cocteau
Last Friday upon waking, I shuffled around to encourage my body to release it’s nightly water weight/swelling. I refrained from eating or drinking, evacuated my bowels, and stripped down. My scale rolled back a whole pound.
Saturday, for the first time since my accident (Plates, Pins and Nerves of Steel) I ventured out for a light hike. My daughter and I soaked up sunshine while circling Wintergreen Lake and admiring all of it’s feathered residents. My soul was renewed.
It didn’t last.
“My happy is a high fever that will break.” -Sabrina Benaim
I went home and ate but I didn’t stop. Sunday, I righted myself out of guilt and went back to my healthy, but, restrictive habits. Monday, the guilt compounded and I restricted myself further and slept for 20 hours. Yeah, 20…out of 24.
Tuesday, I binged again.
My stomach was distended like an Ethiopian baby. I wobbled. Bile crept into my throat. I had to get through three more hours at work. I hated myself.
This isn’t new behavior but I couldn’t tell you when it started. However, I can tell you I was 14 when I attended my first Weight Watchers meeting. I can tell you that according to multiple tests, I “should seek medical treatment.” I can tell you that my last Primary Care Physician aggressively blew me off as I cried in his office about my sudden weight gain (hormone imbalance/dysfunctional thyroid). I can tell you that despite being in therapy and making several attempts to seek help, it was dismissed for other topics of interest or so he could talk about his boat.
This last year has taken quite the mental and physical toll on myself and my family. This time last year I made the decision to sell our family home in Alabama and move us back home to Michigan. That’s when the sleep paralysis demons started invading my bedroom. Alas, the house sold and within 36 hours of being home in Pure Michigan, I shattered my ankle and every plan I had imploded. Did you know you can gain 30 pounds in 9 weeks? You can if you’re remanded to a recliner and prone to binge eating. Getting high on my prescription drugs and watching Animal Planet was my only reprieve.
Unlike drugs and alcohol, which can be avoided by addicts, food is the basis for human existence. Slave and Master to Every Bite was a very difficult piece of myself to share and this was no different. I am in the process of finding a new therapist that has experience in eating disorders.
Do as I say, not as I do, my lovelies. Love yourself.
Photo by Drigo Diniz from Pexels
One thought on “Slave and Master to Every Bite (Part 2)”