Right after I wrote my last post about legalizing junk food, I discovered I had even more junk in the house than I had listed; I had forgotten about several items. There were other cookies and a jar of chocolate-almond spread that had slipped my mind, and most of a cranberry-orange cake in the freezer that I didn't realize we had until my husband threw it in the yard for the birds yesterday. It was several weeks old and neither one of us were interested in finishing it.
To have these things in the house and completely and utterly forget about them is new and amusing to me. I typically know EXACTLY what I have, EXACTLY how much is left, and EXACTLY how badly I want to devour it all the moment I have a bit of privacy to do so. I even forgot about a pint of Limited Edition Ben & Jerry's this week, and that speaks louder than me forgetting about cranberry-orange cake, believe me. I opened my freezer and there it was in the door and I was all "Hey! Forgot this was in here!"
What's more, it took me three different sessions over the course of the week to finish that pint. There are four 1/2 cup servings in a pint, but throughout the past many years of binge eating regularly, a pint of ice cream has been one serving to my mind. It is (was?) one of my most common binge items. I can't remember the last time I didn't finish a pint either in one go or in one day. Again, eating mindfully really helps: the ice cream tastes divine, and then my mouth goes numb from the cold and I can't taste it as well, so I decide to stop.
Tonight, I had to throw away the Breyer's mint chip that I mentioned in my last post. Too freezer burnt to eat. The candy in my purse has been there the longest out of any of the candy I've kept in there since the beginning of this experiment. It's just not that compelling.
It is no exaggeration to say that this last week has been the worst week of my life. My entire future has been called into question. (I wish I could elaborate further, but unfortunately cannot at this time.) No matter what happens next, my life is not going to unfold the way I had been planning and hoping. That's jolting. And this is happening just before the baby is due to arrive. What should be a happy, exciting month of final baby preparations has become a time of deep sorrow, fear, anger, and anxiety. Much time has been spent crying, writing, talking, researching, arguing, looking for a way forward. I'm worried about the effect of this stress on the baby, and I'm worried about the baby in general; I'm scared she is not going to have the happy life I've tried to secure for her, all for reasons outside my control. It's a horrible feeling and I have learned what it is to be heartbroken, really and truly heartbroken.
I bring this up to give context to the following statement: my eating didn't change this week, and that's incredible. I didn't binge, and it wasn't because I was exerting effort to avoid a binge. The urge to binge was not there. I didn't overeat more than usual or eat more sweets than usual or anything. Somehow the food and my life circumstances were not so closely yoked together, mentally or behaviorally.
Something really is changing.
I'm headed into my 38th week and I'm still at 260.