I went to the grocery store nearest my house for the first time in awhile. I used to get most of my binge foods from there, but this store was never my choice for actual comprehensive grocery shopping because their stuff is overpriced.
The store was always good for picking up an item or two in a pinch, though. Yesterday I needed to pick up milk and tortillas quickly, so I went there. I also knew I wanted Cadbury mini eggs; I love them and enjoy a bag around this time every year. I entered and walked to the left, through the produce section, then looped around the perimeter of the store to get to the tortillas and the dairy aisle at the rear of the store.
Later, when I reflected on having walked to the left, I was surprised and pleased. I used to enter and head right immediately and unthinkingly. The ice cream aisle is the rightmost aisle in the store, so I would go there and check out if Ben and Jerry were dealing anything new before proceeding to the other sections of the store. I would do this whether I was on an official binge run or had come to pick up garlic and oranges.
After my grand entrance, the trip still had its little challenges. I did look at many of my old favorites and feelings of longing did crop up. I wanted to buy several things and not necessarily polish everything off in an hour of frenzied eating, but at least sample a bunch of different sweets. This is that new gray area I keep talking about--where binge eating tendencies blend into overeating tendencies and I'm unsure what to call certain things. Was that an urge to binge? Was it a craving to overeat?
Does it matter? Probably not. Neither one should be acted upon.
I considered many purchases: various types of Easter candy, Little Debbie Nutty bars, ice cream and popsicles. But nothing was compelling enough, besides those Cadbury mini eggs I had already planned to buy. And the thought kept occurring, as I looked at one thing after another, that I could always come back and get it later if I really wanted it. The limited edition ice cream will be there tomorrow. I could find all the same Easter candy next week. And they'll still be selling Nutty bars when I'm dead. Those aren't going anywhere. As I passed on each thing, I thought "Eh. Maybe later."
That's a new thought for me. I mean, I always "understood" the food wasn't going anywhere, but I'd tell myself that--and tell myself I could get it later--in the harsh tone of an exasperated adult talking to a bratty child. In this internal conversation, the adult was mean and impatient, and the child didn't really believe the adult. 9.9 times out of 10, I would end up buying the food.
Last night and earlier today I was patting myself on the back for my unattached attitude in the store. More mental and behavioral progress! Hooray! But then tonight--oh, you guessed it!--I felt the urge to go buy a box of Nutty bars and eat half the box before my husband gets home from work. A clear urge to binge. I believe I know what triggered this urge and I'm not acting upon it--in fact, I noted my unpleasant urge and then promptly sat down to write this post to pass the time until my husband arrives--but I felt dismayed at having experienced such an urge at all. And I felt scared, like this (fleeting!) craving was proof that a potential binge still lurks around every corner.
Yet reacting emotionally and labeling an urge as "bad" or "threatening", or labeling oneself as a failure for having various urges, is exactly the kind of thing that one must gently train themselves to stop doing.
Round and round and round it goes.
Showing posts with label stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stories. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
A binge by any other name
The good news is that my Valentine's Day lingerie went over well.
The bad news is that I pretty much binged on Valentine's Day. It may not have been a classic binge, but it was very, very close to one. I'm not sure what to call it, besides "disturbing."
A few things came together to make this happen:
1. I had a casual attitude since it was a holiday. Thought it'd be ok to indulge a little more than usual.
2. I was experiencing PMS and having cravings.
3. I ate a piece of candy in the morning, which is never a good idea for me. The earlier in the day I have something like candy, the more I want to graze on it the remainder of the day. Plus, eating sweets first thing in the morning reminds me of my old binging days, when I would eat whatever was left over from the previous night's binge as my breakfast. So there's a pattern ingrained in me of start the day with cookies/candy/ice cream/donuts-->the day is ruined, so fuck it-->spend the rest of the day binging.
4. I think I was miffed that my husband didn't buy me any chocolates or the like this year, so I resentfully attempted to treat myself. (Again, with the general moodiness that can come with PMS, I'm not entirely sure how resentful I truly was.)
5. The contents of my recent post on eating sweets, in which I talk about experimenting with periods of complete abstinence, made me panic on some level. Even though I hadn't decided when or how long I would undertake such an experiment, telling myself something like that was coming triggered my old issues and weird thinking.
6. I didn't disassociate from my urges to eat one thing after another as the day progressed. It's as if I forgot to view those urges as nonsense; I forgot what I learned in "Brain Over Binge." That lack of mindfulness, of awareness, is the scariest thing of all to me.
So, which one of my binge patterns was displayed on Valentine's Day? Number 3. From a previous post:
"The third kind of binge involves day-long overeating and non-stop grazing on sugary, junky foods. I grab different treats as I go about my day. It's very mindless and scattered, but there's deceit involved, too. [For example,] I eat 2 cupcakes privately and then later eat 3 cookies in front of another person...
...it's more helpful to note the way I went about eating multiple things. Did I lie to or mislead anyone? Do I feel guilty, paranoid, or ashamed--or did I thoroughly enjoy it?"
It was my mindset that surprised and troubled me even more than the specific things I ate. My memory of how paranoid and hostile I used to feel in binge mode had faded a bit, but there it was again.
Here's what happened.
In the morning and early afternoon, I ate a few pieces of chocolate candy from the bag of chocolate-caramel-cashew clusters I had bought my husband as a Valentine's Day gift. A bag that had been in the house for about 2 weeks without me thinking about it. All was fine.
Later in the afternoon, I went to Trader Joe's for regular grocery shopping. There are these donut holes covered in powdered sugar in the bakery section that I've been noticing (and passing up) for months. I grabbed them and vowed to try them mindfully in the car instead of stuffing them in my face on the drive home. Hey, a little Valentine's Day treat! No secrets! My husband can also enjoy them, and I bet we can even keep the leftovers in the house with no problem and have the rest another day. Cool.
I get in the car and note the serving size is four donut holes, so that's how many I'm going to eat. After the first one or two, a voice pipes up and cries: EAT THEM ALL! EVERY LAST ONE! I ignore it. The donut holes are ok, but nothing great. I haven't eaten sweets in the car for a month and a half now, but I used to do it all the time in the Old Binge Days. And just like in those days, I find myself looking about and feeling agitated by the potential "witnesses" around me--people parking near me, passing my vehicle with their shopping cart, etc. I try to make it less obvious that I'm eating, and as a result, can't focus on the experience of eating. My embarrassment is overpowering my intention to be mindful. I eat a total of five, and even though five donut holes isn't a binge, something weird is happening in my head.
I drive home and unload my groceries. As I place the donut holes on the counter along with everything else, I tell my husband that I bought them because he didn't get me anything special in terms of food/chocolate, that they weren't that good, and that I was disappointed I had eaten some. He says we can throw them away and go out for something more enjoyable. I agree, and into the trash they go.
There's a Starbucks inside a local Barnes & Noble and that's where I want to go. I like their cupcakes, and it's been months since I've gotten anything there. My husband expresses disapproval because he doesn't like Starbucks--yet he doesn't want anything to eat or drink himself, so there's no reason for him to choose our destination. I snap at him that this kind of arguing with me and policing me on what and where I eat contributes to my issues and makes me want to eat secretly behind his back, just so I don't have to listen to him nag. He capitulates, we go to Starbucks, and I feel irritated and defensive.
And once in front of the bakery case, I fully felt like my old dysfunctional self again. I COULD NOT decide between the vanilla and the chocolate cupcake. I felt desperate to have both. I thought about getting the vanilla one and then eating all the chocolate chips stored in the pantry at home later. I end up ordering the vanilla and also buying 2 little chocolate-covered graham crackers to have with it--something I don't care about and would NEVER buy, even back in the day.
And then, suddenly, I feel hostile towards everyone around me. I feel like people are looking at me and judging me as I walk about in search of an empty table. In my head I'm saying "fuck you, fuck you, and fuuuuck you"...to complete strangers. Just like in the car earlier, I can't focus on the treat in front of me because I'm too busy scanning my surroundings and feeling ashamed. I'm worried that my husband will come back from browsing books and see that I've bought two things and that he'll be disappointed in me. I don't even taste the second half of my cupcake. (Meaning: I ate it but barely noticed what I was putting in my mouth.)
We go out for dinner afterwards--nothing fancy, just Chinese--and I eat my entire entree even though I'm not hungry at all and there's no need to do so. And that was Valentine's Day.
It wasn't like my old binges, in the sense that it involved less sneaking around behind my husband's back. Those stupid graham crackers were the only thing that I wanted to hide. Everything else was out in the open. Also, the amount of food I ate at any one time wasn't that much. In the past, I could have easily eaten all the donut holes, then stopped somewhere on the way home to discard the box (the evidence)...and STILL insisted on going out for a treat. Sad but true. When we returned home after dinner in the evening, I didn't attack the chocolate chips or the candy I bought my husband or anything like that.
But the paranoia, embarrassment, guilt, stress, and hostility towards others was like a binge. That's what I really need to look out for, because it indicates something has gone haywire and tells me that I need to get quiet and figure out what it is. Those emotions indicate that my lower brain--the animal brain that has been threatened by my lack of binging--has momentarily gained control and is trying to run wild while it can. And it's afraid someone is going to take away its prize.
Takeaway lessons:
1. Pay attention to emotions. Hostility is a major red flag.
2. Be aware of old environmental triggers, like the car. Eating privately at home is better; I can relax enough to focus on the food, and then I feel satisfied with less.
3. Don't involve my husband in the decision-making process when it comes to sweets. It's an old sore spot. I've got to answer to myself and do this for me.
4. I'm not working on periods of total abstention anytime soon. Clearly, the thought of that makes me panic. I think a little something every day/most days is the skill to master right now.
5. Slip ups happen. This isn't proof that I will always be a hopeless binge eater. It's evidence I have more to learn, and that is all.
The bad news is that I pretty much binged on Valentine's Day. It may not have been a classic binge, but it was very, very close to one. I'm not sure what to call it, besides "disturbing."
A few things came together to make this happen:
1. I had a casual attitude since it was a holiday. Thought it'd be ok to indulge a little more than usual.
2. I was experiencing PMS and having cravings.
3. I ate a piece of candy in the morning, which is never a good idea for me. The earlier in the day I have something like candy, the more I want to graze on it the remainder of the day. Plus, eating sweets first thing in the morning reminds me of my old binging days, when I would eat whatever was left over from the previous night's binge as my breakfast. So there's a pattern ingrained in me of start the day with cookies/candy/ice cream/donuts-->the day is ruined, so fuck it-->spend the rest of the day binging.
4. I think I was miffed that my husband didn't buy me any chocolates or the like this year, so I resentfully attempted to treat myself. (Again, with the general moodiness that can come with PMS, I'm not entirely sure how resentful I truly was.)
5. The contents of my recent post on eating sweets, in which I talk about experimenting with periods of complete abstinence, made me panic on some level. Even though I hadn't decided when or how long I would undertake such an experiment, telling myself something like that was coming triggered my old issues and weird thinking.
6. I didn't disassociate from my urges to eat one thing after another as the day progressed. It's as if I forgot to view those urges as nonsense; I forgot what I learned in "Brain Over Binge." That lack of mindfulness, of awareness, is the scariest thing of all to me.
So, which one of my binge patterns was displayed on Valentine's Day? Number 3. From a previous post:
"The third kind of binge involves day-long overeating and non-stop grazing on sugary, junky foods. I grab different treats as I go about my day. It's very mindless and scattered, but there's deceit involved, too. [For example,] I eat 2 cupcakes privately and then later eat 3 cookies in front of another person...
...it's more helpful to note the way I went about eating multiple things. Did I lie to or mislead anyone? Do I feel guilty, paranoid, or ashamed--or did I thoroughly enjoy it?"
It was my mindset that surprised and troubled me even more than the specific things I ate. My memory of how paranoid and hostile I used to feel in binge mode had faded a bit, but there it was again.
Here's what happened.
In the morning and early afternoon, I ate a few pieces of chocolate candy from the bag of chocolate-caramel-cashew clusters I had bought my husband as a Valentine's Day gift. A bag that had been in the house for about 2 weeks without me thinking about it. All was fine.
Later in the afternoon, I went to Trader Joe's for regular grocery shopping. There are these donut holes covered in powdered sugar in the bakery section that I've been noticing (and passing up) for months. I grabbed them and vowed to try them mindfully in the car instead of stuffing them in my face on the drive home. Hey, a little Valentine's Day treat! No secrets! My husband can also enjoy them, and I bet we can even keep the leftovers in the house with no problem and have the rest another day. Cool.
I get in the car and note the serving size is four donut holes, so that's how many I'm going to eat. After the first one or two, a voice pipes up and cries: EAT THEM ALL! EVERY LAST ONE! I ignore it. The donut holes are ok, but nothing great. I haven't eaten sweets in the car for a month and a half now, but I used to do it all the time in the Old Binge Days. And just like in those days, I find myself looking about and feeling agitated by the potential "witnesses" around me--people parking near me, passing my vehicle with their shopping cart, etc. I try to make it less obvious that I'm eating, and as a result, can't focus on the experience of eating. My embarrassment is overpowering my intention to be mindful. I eat a total of five, and even though five donut holes isn't a binge, something weird is happening in my head.
I drive home and unload my groceries. As I place the donut holes on the counter along with everything else, I tell my husband that I bought them because he didn't get me anything special in terms of food/chocolate, that they weren't that good, and that I was disappointed I had eaten some. He says we can throw them away and go out for something more enjoyable. I agree, and into the trash they go.
There's a Starbucks inside a local Barnes & Noble and that's where I want to go. I like their cupcakes, and it's been months since I've gotten anything there. My husband expresses disapproval because he doesn't like Starbucks--yet he doesn't want anything to eat or drink himself, so there's no reason for him to choose our destination. I snap at him that this kind of arguing with me and policing me on what and where I eat contributes to my issues and makes me want to eat secretly behind his back, just so I don't have to listen to him nag. He capitulates, we go to Starbucks, and I feel irritated and defensive.
And once in front of the bakery case, I fully felt like my old dysfunctional self again. I COULD NOT decide between the vanilla and the chocolate cupcake. I felt desperate to have both. I thought about getting the vanilla one and then eating all the chocolate chips stored in the pantry at home later. I end up ordering the vanilla and also buying 2 little chocolate-covered graham crackers to have with it--something I don't care about and would NEVER buy, even back in the day.
And then, suddenly, I feel hostile towards everyone around me. I feel like people are looking at me and judging me as I walk about in search of an empty table. In my head I'm saying "fuck you, fuck you, and fuuuuck you"...to complete strangers. Just like in the car earlier, I can't focus on the treat in front of me because I'm too busy scanning my surroundings and feeling ashamed. I'm worried that my husband will come back from browsing books and see that I've bought two things and that he'll be disappointed in me. I don't even taste the second half of my cupcake. (Meaning: I ate it but barely noticed what I was putting in my mouth.)
We go out for dinner afterwards--nothing fancy, just Chinese--and I eat my entire entree even though I'm not hungry at all and there's no need to do so. And that was Valentine's Day.
It wasn't like my old binges, in the sense that it involved less sneaking around behind my husband's back. Those stupid graham crackers were the only thing that I wanted to hide. Everything else was out in the open. Also, the amount of food I ate at any one time wasn't that much. In the past, I could have easily eaten all the donut holes, then stopped somewhere on the way home to discard the box (the evidence)...and STILL insisted on going out for a treat. Sad but true. When we returned home after dinner in the evening, I didn't attack the chocolate chips or the candy I bought my husband or anything like that.
But the paranoia, embarrassment, guilt, stress, and hostility towards others was like a binge. That's what I really need to look out for, because it indicates something has gone haywire and tells me that I need to get quiet and figure out what it is. Those emotions indicate that my lower brain--the animal brain that has been threatened by my lack of binging--has momentarily gained control and is trying to run wild while it can. And it's afraid someone is going to take away its prize.
Takeaway lessons:
1. Pay attention to emotions. Hostility is a major red flag.
2. Be aware of old environmental triggers, like the car. Eating privately at home is better; I can relax enough to focus on the food, and then I feel satisfied with less.
3. Don't involve my husband in the decision-making process when it comes to sweets. It's an old sore spot. I've got to answer to myself and do this for me.
4. I'm not working on periods of total abstention anytime soon. Clearly, the thought of that makes me panic. I think a little something every day/most days is the skill to master right now.
5. Slip ups happen. This isn't proof that I will always be a hopeless binge eater. It's evidence I have more to learn, and that is all.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Not recovered, but recovering: January 2009 versus January 2012
*Trigger warning. Don't read if junk food descriptions set you off.*
By January of 2009, I had understood for some years already that I had binge eating disorder. I was on my second therapist, and I was trying to come up with a way to curtail the amount of sweets I ate. I decided to try to limit myself to one treat day during the week and one treat day on the weekend. I thought that was moderate and realistic.
Later that year, I would discover the no-S diet and see that it had several similarities to the sort of thing I had been trying to do on my own. I went on to attempt no-S for part of 2009. And after no-S, I went on to try lots more things, including Overeaters Anonymous.
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
In January 2009, I was simply trying to come up with a personalized, realistic way to get a grip. I started keeping records in a little book of the sweets I consumed. And this is my sad, alarming record for that month. It shows the ugly face of Binge Eating Disorder, for sure.
Jan 5: peanut butter cookies, chocolate chip cookies, 2 mint pudding cups with whipped cream, 2 Andes mints
Jan 10&11: several pieces of German chocolate cake, assorted candy (orange slices, Hershey kisses, mini Reese's cups, crispy chocolate coins), several pieces of marshmallow-chocolate-peanut butter bars, chocolate chip cookie
Jan 13: McDonald's mocha, Dairy Queen blizzard, cookies, 2 mint pudding cups with whipped cream, banana bread with butter
Jan 14: cranberry-banana bread, 2 donuts and a chocolate milk, pudding cup, mini Heath blizzard
Jan 16: sherbet, ice cream with whipped cream, mint pudding cup, various cookies
Jan 17: whipped cream, bit of caramel corn
Jan 18: caramel corn, Hershey's syrup straight out of the bottle, chocolate milk, some apple pie, crumpets with butter and jam
Jan 20: 3 Kit-Kats, 2 bowls of granola
Jan 23: bowl of granola, chocolate cupcake, vanilla cupcake, 2 regular Reese's cups
Jan 26: glazed donut, slice of Reese's cake
Jan 28: coconut flan, tres leches cake piece, English muffin with butter and preserves, granola with milk
Jan 31: 6 Oreos, vanilla cupcake, chocolate milk, hot fudge sundae
And that was me trying HARD to do better! I'm too lazy to transcribe all I wrote down in January 2009, but there are so many notes on the days I binged that say "this tasted like crap" or "wasn't worth it" or "I felt sick and disgusting after this" or "I had cramps and diarrhea the rest of the night." Not to mention, I was upset over my inability to keep the sweets to just two days a week.
Fast forward to 2012. These are the sweets I ate:
Jan 7: chocolate chip cookies and milk
Jan 8: a few peanut m&m's and Lindt truffles
Jan 10: a couple tastes of lemon curd and a few mini candy canes
Jan 12: 9 white fudge-covered Oreos, pint of red velvet ice cream
Jan 13: 3 white fudge-covered Oreos, rice krispie treat, 5-6 donuts, 3-4 bowls of sugary cereal
*read Brain over Binge on Jan 14 and 15*
Jan 16: regular size m&m's
Jan 20: 1 slice German chocolate cake
Jan 21: puppy chow (aka muddy buddies)
Jan 23: most of a small piece of lemon cake
Jan 28: half a small piece of flan, chocolate mousse, and 3/4 regular Hershey bar
I read that and think "it's still way too much." But it's undeniably better. I ate fewer things and smaller amounts. I didn't make myself sick repeatedly and my eating didn't devastate me emotionally. It wasn't a monumental struggle to go a few days between treats. I also know I eat better meals now than I did then; I have more protein and vegetables these days.
I wonder what January 2013 will look like?
By January of 2009, I had understood for some years already that I had binge eating disorder. I was on my second therapist, and I was trying to come up with a way to curtail the amount of sweets I ate. I decided to try to limit myself to one treat day during the week and one treat day on the weekend. I thought that was moderate and realistic.
Later that year, I would discover the no-S diet and see that it had several similarities to the sort of thing I had been trying to do on my own. I went on to attempt no-S for part of 2009. And after no-S, I went on to try lots more things, including Overeaters Anonymous.
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
In January 2009, I was simply trying to come up with a personalized, realistic way to get a grip. I started keeping records in a little book of the sweets I consumed. And this is my sad, alarming record for that month. It shows the ugly face of Binge Eating Disorder, for sure.
Jan 5: peanut butter cookies, chocolate chip cookies, 2 mint pudding cups with whipped cream, 2 Andes mints
Jan 10&11: several pieces of German chocolate cake, assorted candy (orange slices, Hershey kisses, mini Reese's cups, crispy chocolate coins), several pieces of marshmallow-chocolate-peanut butter bars, chocolate chip cookie
Jan 13: McDonald's mocha, Dairy Queen blizzard, cookies, 2 mint pudding cups with whipped cream, banana bread with butter
Jan 14: cranberry-banana bread, 2 donuts and a chocolate milk, pudding cup, mini Heath blizzard
Jan 16: sherbet, ice cream with whipped cream, mint pudding cup, various cookies
Jan 17: whipped cream, bit of caramel corn
Jan 18: caramel corn, Hershey's syrup straight out of the bottle, chocolate milk, some apple pie, crumpets with butter and jam
Jan 20: 3 Kit-Kats, 2 bowls of granola
Jan 23: bowl of granola, chocolate cupcake, vanilla cupcake, 2 regular Reese's cups
Jan 26: glazed donut, slice of Reese's cake
Jan 28: coconut flan, tres leches cake piece, English muffin with butter and preserves, granola with milk
Jan 31: 6 Oreos, vanilla cupcake, chocolate milk, hot fudge sundae
And that was me trying HARD to do better! I'm too lazy to transcribe all I wrote down in January 2009, but there are so many notes on the days I binged that say "this tasted like crap" or "wasn't worth it" or "I felt sick and disgusting after this" or "I had cramps and diarrhea the rest of the night." Not to mention, I was upset over my inability to keep the sweets to just two days a week.
Fast forward to 2012. These are the sweets I ate:
Jan 7: chocolate chip cookies and milk
Jan 8: a few peanut m&m's and Lindt truffles
Jan 10: a couple tastes of lemon curd and a few mini candy canes
Jan 12: 9 white fudge-covered Oreos, pint of red velvet ice cream
Jan 13: 3 white fudge-covered Oreos, rice krispie treat, 5-6 donuts, 3-4 bowls of sugary cereal
*read Brain over Binge on Jan 14 and 15*
Jan 16: regular size m&m's
Jan 20: 1 slice German chocolate cake
Jan 21: puppy chow (aka muddy buddies)
Jan 23: most of a small piece of lemon cake
Jan 28: half a small piece of flan, chocolate mousse, and 3/4 regular Hershey bar
I read that and think "it's still way too much." But it's undeniably better. I ate fewer things and smaller amounts. I didn't make myself sick repeatedly and my eating didn't devastate me emotionally. It wasn't a monumental struggle to go a few days between treats. I also know I eat better meals now than I did then; I have more protein and vegetables these days.
I wonder what January 2013 will look like?
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Okay, so it's too early to bake
Yesterday was a special day for my husband and I. We went out for lunch, and I ate moderately. I enjoyed half of a perfect, tiny piece of flan. I thought that later in the day, I might use the immersion blender I received for Christmas to make chocolate mousse for the first time, just as a little evening treat for the two of us.
The day went on, and something career-related started bugging me. And against my better judgment, I decided to make mousse.
Now, I didn't binge on the mousse. But I overate, and I slipped into that same gray area that I spoke about recently (with the puppy chow). I started eating too fast; there was a desperation there. I set out intending to eat only the final product, but then started eating some of the ingredients as soon as the chocolate chips and Hershey bar were opened. I was standing at the counter, licking spatulas as I worked, and feeling unhappy and a bit crazy.
I made the mousse and some whipped cream to garnish it with, but neither turned out quite right. It still tasted good, and my husband loved it. Even though it was a moderate amount--nothing like a real binge--I ate too much, and in a short period of time. I mean, the mousse was rich--whipping cream, milk chocolate chips (melted), some powdered sugar, and vanilla. I didn't truly enjoy this dish because of the state of mind I was in.
Once I was finished eating, a small wave of nausea ran through me. It surprised me, but I guess my body isn't as used to pure sugar and cream, eaten rather quickly, anymore! I took a chromium supplement, ate some cheddar and sliced turkey, and walked on the treadmill for 20 minutes to mitigate the blood sugar spike I likely caused myself. I washed the whipped cream down the sink with water; it was a waste because we had eaten only a couple of tablespoons of it. I threw away the last bit of Hershey bar I had used to make decorative chocolate curls (that didn't turn out right, either) and put the remaining chocolate chips away with the rest of my baking supplies.
This is what I think.
1. It's too early for me to make desserts at home. Even though homemade means better quality and purer ingredients, I seem to have less of a problem when I go out and buy an individual serving of something.
2. I will have to work on "baking mindfully" at some point, because I do like to bake. Cooking feels like drudgery, but baking is fun.
3. It's best if I stay away from sweets when I'm upset to ANY degree. Even mildly upset. Though I understand I have control over my actions, I don't want to strengthen the association between emotional upset and sugary food in my brain any further.
4. It remains to be seen whether I can coexist with milk chocolate chips in the house. I did think about them once today, but the thought didn't linger long. If they become a problem, I will toss them.
I firmly believe that if I keep working on mindfulness and habit change, I will be able to do all the things a normal eater does, such as bake and have treats in the house. But I've got to address one area at a time, and right now, I'm still working on the fundamentals.
My mindfulness meditation classes start tomorrow, and I'm eager to learn. Have a great week, everyone!
The day went on, and something career-related started bugging me. And against my better judgment, I decided to make mousse.
Now, I didn't binge on the mousse. But I overate, and I slipped into that same gray area that I spoke about recently (with the puppy chow). I started eating too fast; there was a desperation there. I set out intending to eat only the final product, but then started eating some of the ingredients as soon as the chocolate chips and Hershey bar were opened. I was standing at the counter, licking spatulas as I worked, and feeling unhappy and a bit crazy.
I made the mousse and some whipped cream to garnish it with, but neither turned out quite right. It still tasted good, and my husband loved it. Even though it was a moderate amount--nothing like a real binge--I ate too much, and in a short period of time. I mean, the mousse was rich--whipping cream, milk chocolate chips (melted), some powdered sugar, and vanilla. I didn't truly enjoy this dish because of the state of mind I was in.
Once I was finished eating, a small wave of nausea ran through me. It surprised me, but I guess my body isn't as used to pure sugar and cream, eaten rather quickly, anymore! I took a chromium supplement, ate some cheddar and sliced turkey, and walked on the treadmill for 20 minutes to mitigate the blood sugar spike I likely caused myself. I washed the whipped cream down the sink with water; it was a waste because we had eaten only a couple of tablespoons of it. I threw away the last bit of Hershey bar I had used to make decorative chocolate curls (that didn't turn out right, either) and put the remaining chocolate chips away with the rest of my baking supplies.
This is what I think.
1. It's too early for me to make desserts at home. Even though homemade means better quality and purer ingredients, I seem to have less of a problem when I go out and buy an individual serving of something.
2. I will have to work on "baking mindfully" at some point, because I do like to bake. Cooking feels like drudgery, but baking is fun.
3. It's best if I stay away from sweets when I'm upset to ANY degree. Even mildly upset. Though I understand I have control over my actions, I don't want to strengthen the association between emotional upset and sugary food in my brain any further.
4. It remains to be seen whether I can coexist with milk chocolate chips in the house. I did think about them once today, but the thought didn't linger long. If they become a problem, I will toss them.
I firmly believe that if I keep working on mindfulness and habit change, I will be able to do all the things a normal eater does, such as bake and have treats in the house. But I've got to address one area at a time, and right now, I'm still working on the fundamentals.
My mindfulness meditation classes start tomorrow, and I'm eager to learn. Have a great week, everyone!
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Binging versus Overeating
I experienced the difference yesterday.
A (skinny, hyper, athletic) friend came over and it was his wish to have a movie & junk food night with me. Since 2005, making muddy buddies (also known as "puppy chow") about once a year has been a tradition of ours. He got a bucket of KFC for dinner and brought the Chex cereal, peanut butter, chocolate chips, etc. for the puppy chow. We had a nice long visit in the living room first, then the rest of the night was all about the food and entertainment.
By the end of the night, I had overeaten both fried chicken and puppy chow, and had eaten while watching TV/movies, which is something I want to stop doing. I am absolutely not blaming my friend for my own voluntary actions, but I will say that I found it hard to remain mindful in the midst of visiting with him and handling his chaotic energy. (I am much more subdued and mellow--an introvert--and can find it jolting to be around boisterous people. I sort of "lose myself" and then require time to recuperate. I'd been doing well with mindful eating recently because my husband has been away for 2 weeks on business and I've had a quiet home, time to myself, and space to explore a new pattern of eating.) Anyway, not only did I find it hard to focus on how fast and how much I was eating, but I was uncomfortable telling my friend I didn't want to eat during the movie, because that's EXACTLY what he wanted to do...and it's what I've willingly done with him for seven years now.
The bottom line is that I am going to have to figure out how to navigate these scenarios better in the future so that I don't overeat in them. Isolating myself and turning down social invitations is not the answer; learning to regulate myself somehow in less-than-perfect/peaceful situations has to be the way forward.
At one point towards the end of the visit, I found myself standing at my kitchen counter and eating the puppy chow rather fast out of a little bowl. I felt sort of out of control, like it would be almost impossible for me to stop eating right then and there, walk away, and leave the rest of the contents of the bowl untouched. I finished the bowl as these thoughts and anxieties ran their course. I didn't pour any more out for myself, and I sent all leftover chicken, puppy chow, and ingredients (again: chocolate chips and peanut butter) home with my friend shortly afterward.
Once the house was quiet, I started wondering if I had binged. I had eaten too much, too quickly, in a short period of time. And at one point, I had felt out of control--helpless to stop. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I had simply overeaten. I had not binged. Re-reading my recent post, How will I know whether I'm binging?, clarified the matter further for me. I had not carried out one my three "classic" binge patterns. And that moment of feeling out of control that worried me? I ate two more small mouthfuls to finish off that bowl and I DID walk away from the remaining cups and cups of puppy chow sitting in a bag next to my bowl on the counter. And it was no big deal. If I had truly been out of control or lost in a binge, I would have reached into that bag for another handful, or poured myself another small bowl and kept eating.
What's more, I did not take part of the leftovers to binge on after my friend's departure, despite his repeated offers for me to keep some of the food. I did not have feelings of anxiety or longing or desperation or anger as I put all the leftovers in a shopping bag for my friend to take home. I had no desire to run to the grocery store and get more treats to eat in private once I had the house to myself again. I felt no need to binge the next day (meaning today, a Sunday) and then "start over" on Monday. This is so, so different from my usual patterns of desire and behavior.
What's even wilder is that I am finding it effortless to eat lighter today as a natural compensation for all the indulgent food I had yesterday. My husband used to plead with me: honey, if you indulge, just go easy the next day. That's what I do, and then everything balances out. Please do this! I was never able to explain to him why I COULDN'T do that. I understood the principle, and I didn't disagree with him about the usefulness of it, but I just. could. not. do. it. because my urges to binge the next day were too much for me.
I hope it's not too early to say that something wonderful is happening to me.
I'm saying it with trepidation, like it might all go to crap again in the blink of an eye...but all this sure feels wonderful.
A (skinny, hyper, athletic) friend came over and it was his wish to have a movie & junk food night with me. Since 2005, making muddy buddies (also known as "puppy chow") about once a year has been a tradition of ours. He got a bucket of KFC for dinner and brought the Chex cereal, peanut butter, chocolate chips, etc. for the puppy chow. We had a nice long visit in the living room first, then the rest of the night was all about the food and entertainment.
By the end of the night, I had overeaten both fried chicken and puppy chow, and had eaten while watching TV/movies, which is something I want to stop doing. I am absolutely not blaming my friend for my own voluntary actions, but I will say that I found it hard to remain mindful in the midst of visiting with him and handling his chaotic energy. (I am much more subdued and mellow--an introvert--and can find it jolting to be around boisterous people. I sort of "lose myself" and then require time to recuperate. I'd been doing well with mindful eating recently because my husband has been away for 2 weeks on business and I've had a quiet home, time to myself, and space to explore a new pattern of eating.) Anyway, not only did I find it hard to focus on how fast and how much I was eating, but I was uncomfortable telling my friend I didn't want to eat during the movie, because that's EXACTLY what he wanted to do...and it's what I've willingly done with him for seven years now.
The bottom line is that I am going to have to figure out how to navigate these scenarios better in the future so that I don't overeat in them. Isolating myself and turning down social invitations is not the answer; learning to regulate myself somehow in less-than-perfect/peaceful situations has to be the way forward.
At one point towards the end of the visit, I found myself standing at my kitchen counter and eating the puppy chow rather fast out of a little bowl. I felt sort of out of control, like it would be almost impossible for me to stop eating right then and there, walk away, and leave the rest of the contents of the bowl untouched. I finished the bowl as these thoughts and anxieties ran their course. I didn't pour any more out for myself, and I sent all leftover chicken, puppy chow, and ingredients (again: chocolate chips and peanut butter) home with my friend shortly afterward.
Once the house was quiet, I started wondering if I had binged. I had eaten too much, too quickly, in a short period of time. And at one point, I had felt out of control--helpless to stop. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I had simply overeaten. I had not binged. Re-reading my recent post, How will I know whether I'm binging?, clarified the matter further for me. I had not carried out one my three "classic" binge patterns. And that moment of feeling out of control that worried me? I ate two more small mouthfuls to finish off that bowl and I DID walk away from the remaining cups and cups of puppy chow sitting in a bag next to my bowl on the counter. And it was no big deal. If I had truly been out of control or lost in a binge, I would have reached into that bag for another handful, or poured myself another small bowl and kept eating.
What's more, I did not take part of the leftovers to binge on after my friend's departure, despite his repeated offers for me to keep some of the food. I did not have feelings of anxiety or longing or desperation or anger as I put all the leftovers in a shopping bag for my friend to take home. I had no desire to run to the grocery store and get more treats to eat in private once I had the house to myself again. I felt no need to binge the next day (meaning today, a Sunday) and then "start over" on Monday. This is so, so different from my usual patterns of desire and behavior.
What's even wilder is that I am finding it effortless to eat lighter today as a natural compensation for all the indulgent food I had yesterday. My husband used to plead with me: honey, if you indulge, just go easy the next day. That's what I do, and then everything balances out. Please do this! I was never able to explain to him why I COULDN'T do that. I understood the principle, and I didn't disagree with him about the usefulness of it, but I just. could. not. do. it. because my urges to binge the next day were too much for me.
I hope it's not too early to say that something wonderful is happening to me.
I'm saying it with trepidation, like it might all go to crap again in the blink of an eye...but all this sure feels wonderful.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Christmas at 265 pounds
My weight fluctuated around the 265 pound mark over the holidays. I want to capture a couple of things before the new year gets underway and I forget.
I wrote about my hopes for Christmas 2011 in this post. To be honest, most of the things I hoped to accomplish did not happen. I did eat crappy, packaged, processed treats throughout the month. Yet I am certain that without keeping records on this blog and making something of an effort, I would have done far worse (eaten far more junk, and likely every day).
I did put on a nice Christmas for my family, including a lovely meal and homemade cookies and eggnog. The house looked nice. But I want to be honest here: my ankles and back hurt like hell from standing in the kitchen. At this weight, I have very little stamina and my body aches when I exert myself more than usual. I also wore lounging clothes and the apron I cooked in during Christmas dinner because I didn't have the energy to fix myself up. I don't say these things to berate myself, but to get real. I tend to look at pictures of the cute little cookies I made and forget the rest of the story--that I looked and felt miserable making them. Others enjoyed them, but was it worth it to mess with sugar and eat scraps of damaged cookies and taste test and generally hurt my health? I'm not so sure.
The day after Christmas, I took my guests grocery shopping to stock up for the rest of their visit. They threw TONS of packaged junk into the cart: cheap ice cream bars, brownies, snack cakes, spice cake, sugar cookies. I'm not used to having that amount of stuff in my house and I'm trying to give that crap up for good, so I'm ashamed to say I ate more of it than anyone else. I have more difficulty than they do eating it moderately; for whatever reason, it's more stimulating to me. When they left a few days later, I did pack what was feasible for their road trip and threw the rest away. But not the remaining ice cream bars. Those I ate, when the house was finally quiet and I was alone. I did it to de-stress and promptly felt sick and depressed the rest of the day.
On the Wednesday after Christmas, I took them sightseeing and was hobbling by the end of our tour. Walking and standing for several hours in the cold caused me to be stiff for most of the next day as well. So stiff, in fact, that I couldn't walk down the stairs normally. It's frightening. Getting 70 pounds off my joints (i.e. getting down to 200 pounds) would be a massive favor to my body, wouldn't it?
My dad's addiction to cigarettes really saddened me on the day of our sightseeing tour. He wasn't able to truly enjoy himself because he was constantly focused on when he'd next get to smoke. I couldn't help seeing the parallels to my own food/sugar addiction. I understand the feeling of "IF I DON'T GET MY FIX RIGHT NOW I'M GOING TO LOSE IT", and I know I've failed to appreciate many interesting and beautiful things on trips (and during everyday life, too) because I'm too distracted by my addiction. I want better for myself, and I want to be a better example to others. I also want better dental health than he's got in his middle age; smoking has done a number on his teeth, but how can constant sugar intake be much better for the teeth and gums?
Last thing...I did not complain when people wanted to take pictures and videos of me during these activities, but I know they will be hard to look at. And if I have to watch video footage at some subsequent family gathering in the company of others --even the very people that were there with me, in person-- I know I will feel mortified. I kept telling myself "these are your 'before' photos, this will be your 'before' video too", just to get through it.
My home scale now shows something closer to 270 pounds. It's a basic analog scale that I have trouble reading; I rely on the gym's digital scale for official records. I'm eager to move on and start shedding this weight in earnest. I've got some ideas and plans for 2012 that I will write about soon. I know next Christmas doesn't have to be this way.
I wrote about my hopes for Christmas 2011 in this post. To be honest, most of the things I hoped to accomplish did not happen. I did eat crappy, packaged, processed treats throughout the month. Yet I am certain that without keeping records on this blog and making something of an effort, I would have done far worse (eaten far more junk, and likely every day).
I did put on a nice Christmas for my family, including a lovely meal and homemade cookies and eggnog. The house looked nice. But I want to be honest here: my ankles and back hurt like hell from standing in the kitchen. At this weight, I have very little stamina and my body aches when I exert myself more than usual. I also wore lounging clothes and the apron I cooked in during Christmas dinner because I didn't have the energy to fix myself up. I don't say these things to berate myself, but to get real. I tend to look at pictures of the cute little cookies I made and forget the rest of the story--that I looked and felt miserable making them. Others enjoyed them, but was it worth it to mess with sugar and eat scraps of damaged cookies and taste test and generally hurt my health? I'm not so sure.
The day after Christmas, I took my guests grocery shopping to stock up for the rest of their visit. They threw TONS of packaged junk into the cart: cheap ice cream bars, brownies, snack cakes, spice cake, sugar cookies. I'm not used to having that amount of stuff in my house and I'm trying to give that crap up for good, so I'm ashamed to say I ate more of it than anyone else. I have more difficulty than they do eating it moderately; for whatever reason, it's more stimulating to me. When they left a few days later, I did pack what was feasible for their road trip and threw the rest away. But not the remaining ice cream bars. Those I ate, when the house was finally quiet and I was alone. I did it to de-stress and promptly felt sick and depressed the rest of the day.
On the Wednesday after Christmas, I took them sightseeing and was hobbling by the end of our tour. Walking and standing for several hours in the cold caused me to be stiff for most of the next day as well. So stiff, in fact, that I couldn't walk down the stairs normally. It's frightening. Getting 70 pounds off my joints (i.e. getting down to 200 pounds) would be a massive favor to my body, wouldn't it?
My dad's addiction to cigarettes really saddened me on the day of our sightseeing tour. He wasn't able to truly enjoy himself because he was constantly focused on when he'd next get to smoke. I couldn't help seeing the parallels to my own food/sugar addiction. I understand the feeling of "IF I DON'T GET MY FIX RIGHT NOW I'M GOING TO LOSE IT", and I know I've failed to appreciate many interesting and beautiful things on trips (and during everyday life, too) because I'm too distracted by my addiction. I want better for myself, and I want to be a better example to others. I also want better dental health than he's got in his middle age; smoking has done a number on his teeth, but how can constant sugar intake be much better for the teeth and gums?
Last thing...I did not complain when people wanted to take pictures and videos of me during these activities, but I know they will be hard to look at. And if I have to watch video footage at some subsequent family gathering in the company of others --even the very people that were there with me, in person-- I know I will feel mortified. I kept telling myself "these are your 'before' photos, this will be your 'before' video too", just to get through it.
My home scale now shows something closer to 270 pounds. It's a basic analog scale that I have trouble reading; I rely on the gym's digital scale for official records. I'm eager to move on and start shedding this weight in earnest. I've got some ideas and plans for 2012 that I will write about soon. I know next Christmas doesn't have to be this way.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
When substitutions work
Really late last night, I had a fight with my husband.
After our fight, I headed to the pharmacy to pick up my thyroid medication refill. I knew I was in a vulnerable place and a binge seemed inevitable. I've bought junk from this particular pharmacy many times, and those big bags of red and green Christmas m&m's were on my mind for some reason. I sat in the car a long time outside the pharmacy, thinking "I don't want to do this. I want the pain to go away, and I know the binge is probably going to happen, but I'm so sick of being a slave to this compulsion." When I finally headed in, I had decided to go ahead and let whatever happen.
I walked the aisles stocked with cheap, mass-produced Christmas candy. I spotted the m&m's--the regular ones, the peanut butter ones, the peanut ones, the coconut ones, the mint ones, and the pretzel ones. (By the way, have the m&m, pop-tart, and Oreo minions decided to just keep "innovating" until every last American has diabetes, or what?) Nothing was looking that appealing. Then, lo! A thought occurred to me: this candy isn't going to change anything. The problem I'm having with my husband is still going to be there, whether I eat this crap or not.
I shuffled over to the other side of the store and picked up my prescription. Then I wandered the aisles that contain ice cream and packaged snack cakes. And THEN I remembered I had dark chocolate cherry Kind bars at home, and that I had planned to start using some of the more decadent Kind bars (there are a few varieties that are more dessert-y than others) to ward off binges at night. Something for those nights when I feel like I will go crazy if I don't have something comforting. I left the pharmacy with no junk food in tow.
I got home, ate the bar even though I was not hungry at all, and felt relieved. It was still emotional eating--still taking in calories my body didn't need at all--but it was 170 calories instead of however many are in a large bag of m&m's. I didn't feel compelled to have another bar, I didn't feel terrible about it afterward, and I didn't have a food hangover this morning.
I have days where nothing but full-on ice cream, chocolate, etc. will quiet the beast. PMS days come to mind. But there are days like yesterday and today where the beast is whimpering for a little something and is actually satisfied by a small taste/amount. NOT a small taste or amount of actual dessert, because that sets me off wanting more, but something dessert-LIKE. This afternoon, I was experiencing my millionth craving for eggnog so far this month, so I went home and made a whey protein smoothie with milk and a frozen banana. It was thick, cold, and slightly sweet, so it hit the spot. It worked today; it wouldn't have worked a couple of days ago in the midst of the PMS crazies. And frankly, I wouldn't want to be drinking a banana smoothie on Christmas while everyone else around me is having eggnog.
It's amazing to me that reasonable substitutions work sometimes. I hope I can get better at figuring out what kind of day it is, so to speak, and not going further with the comfort eating and indulgence eating than I need to on any given day.
After our fight, I headed to the pharmacy to pick up my thyroid medication refill. I knew I was in a vulnerable place and a binge seemed inevitable. I've bought junk from this particular pharmacy many times, and those big bags of red and green Christmas m&m's were on my mind for some reason. I sat in the car a long time outside the pharmacy, thinking "I don't want to do this. I want the pain to go away, and I know the binge is probably going to happen, but I'm so sick of being a slave to this compulsion." When I finally headed in, I had decided to go ahead and let whatever happen.
I walked the aisles stocked with cheap, mass-produced Christmas candy. I spotted the m&m's--the regular ones, the peanut butter ones, the peanut ones, the coconut ones, the mint ones, and the pretzel ones. (By the way, have the m&m, pop-tart, and Oreo minions decided to just keep "innovating" until every last American has diabetes, or what?) Nothing was looking that appealing. Then, lo! A thought occurred to me: this candy isn't going to change anything. The problem I'm having with my husband is still going to be there, whether I eat this crap or not.
I shuffled over to the other side of the store and picked up my prescription. Then I wandered the aisles that contain ice cream and packaged snack cakes. And THEN I remembered I had dark chocolate cherry Kind bars at home, and that I had planned to start using some of the more decadent Kind bars (there are a few varieties that are more dessert-y than others) to ward off binges at night. Something for those nights when I feel like I will go crazy if I don't have something comforting. I left the pharmacy with no junk food in tow.
I got home, ate the bar even though I was not hungry at all, and felt relieved. It was still emotional eating--still taking in calories my body didn't need at all--but it was 170 calories instead of however many are in a large bag of m&m's. I didn't feel compelled to have another bar, I didn't feel terrible about it afterward, and I didn't have a food hangover this morning.
I have days where nothing but full-on ice cream, chocolate, etc. will quiet the beast. PMS days come to mind. But there are days like yesterday and today where the beast is whimpering for a little something and is actually satisfied by a small taste/amount. NOT a small taste or amount of actual dessert, because that sets me off wanting more, but something dessert-LIKE. This afternoon, I was experiencing my millionth craving for eggnog so far this month, so I went home and made a whey protein smoothie with milk and a frozen banana. It was thick, cold, and slightly sweet, so it hit the spot. It worked today; it wouldn't have worked a couple of days ago in the midst of the PMS crazies. And frankly, I wouldn't want to be drinking a banana smoothie on Christmas while everyone else around me is having eggnog.
It's amazing to me that reasonable substitutions work sometimes. I hope I can get better at figuring out what kind of day it is, so to speak, and not going further with the comfort eating and indulgence eating than I need to on any given day.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
The pain of shopping as a fat woman
Tuesday was difficult for me. My husband and I went out on a little day trip to see some historical sites, which was fun. But it didn't take long for me to feel tired and sore from standing and walking so much. I kept lagging behind and feeling annoyed at him for blasting past me, and ashamed of myself for my inability to keep up. My ankles hurt so much that it was hard to focus and fully enjoy the things I was seeing. I didn't complain out loud or betray my shame and annoyance--I did the Nice Cheery Fat Girl thing and kept it to myself.
Until I couldn't anymore.
After a day of sightseeing, we headed home. It was dark and cold, and I was beyond tired. About halfway home, my husband spotted an outlet mall and pulled off the highway to check it out. He'd been meaning to get a winter hat and some better shoes for awhile, and promised he only needed to duck into a couple of stores. I didn't need anything, and told him I was tired and that I'd wait in the car.
But he insisted he wanted my help in choosing stuff. So for the next two hours, we walked almost nonstop in the dark and cold and visited one store after another. I. WAS. PISSED. After the first three stores, I told him I was done. And he'd insist we go "to just one more store." Not only was he not respecting my feelings, he wasn't listening to me in other ways: in store after store, he pressed me to look at and try on clothes after I had already explained that the stores didn't carry things in my size. (There were no plus size stores at this mall, unfortunately.) I know my body and women's clothing lines way better than him, but in each store I had to repeat and reiterate and explain and persuade him on this point, again and again. It was humiliating--WHAT was he not getting? Why would I say Aeropostale (only one example) doesn't carry anything that fits me unless it were actually true? Why would I make up something that is embarrassing to say?!
He kept insisting he was in the mood to buy me something since we so rarely go clothes shopping together. Finally, in American Eagle I let him buy me a men's sweatshirt in XXL. It was the only thing that fit me--the largest men's size in the store and the most shapeless garment available. The XL was too snug. The shirt is soft and snuggly, but it has the giant brand logo across the chest, which is something I stopped liking after high school. What's more, taking it home reminded me of all the painful years that I wore men's shirts because I couldn't find women's clothes that fit me...even though I longed so much to dress and feel feminine. I've since learned where to look--Lane Bryant, online sources, some department stores--but I'm not happy with the selection available to me. Never have been. And more and more, I'm slipping back into non-feminine clothes because I'm tired of trying to "make it work"--tired of fitted clothes that show my rolls and/or require support garments (hence sloppy hoodies and jeans as my default outfit), tired of underwire bras that lift but are miserable to wear (hence my wearing a sportsbra 99% of the time), tired of the pain of low heels and even flats (hence tennis shoes daily)...
It sucks to go to an outlet mall with fifty stores carrying women's clothes, and not be able to buy ANYTHING. There was a time he and I could shop together and have fun. Even when I was 70 pounds lighter than I am now, I still had to buy the largest women's sizes available at a select few stores, but at least there were some options at places like The Gap.
All this was swirling in my head as we drove home. I cried quietly in the car, which led to my husband and me snapping at each other. What a way to end the day, right?
I have to change, but I know the more dramatic and self-hating my attempts at change, the more they backfire. I have a long, slow trek ahead of me, and I'll be making it in men's shirts and sportsbras and saggy jeans and tennis shoes for awhile yet.
***
Enjoyed this post today by Kelliann. She is handling holiday craziness without losing sight of what's important.
Until I couldn't anymore.
After a day of sightseeing, we headed home. It was dark and cold, and I was beyond tired. About halfway home, my husband spotted an outlet mall and pulled off the highway to check it out. He'd been meaning to get a winter hat and some better shoes for awhile, and promised he only needed to duck into a couple of stores. I didn't need anything, and told him I was tired and that I'd wait in the car.
But he insisted he wanted my help in choosing stuff. So for the next two hours, we walked almost nonstop in the dark and cold and visited one store after another. I. WAS. PISSED. After the first three stores, I told him I was done. And he'd insist we go "to just one more store." Not only was he not respecting my feelings, he wasn't listening to me in other ways: in store after store, he pressed me to look at and try on clothes after I had already explained that the stores didn't carry things in my size. (There were no plus size stores at this mall, unfortunately.) I know my body and women's clothing lines way better than him, but in each store I had to repeat and reiterate and explain and persuade him on this point, again and again. It was humiliating--WHAT was he not getting? Why would I say Aeropostale (only one example) doesn't carry anything that fits me unless it were actually true? Why would I make up something that is embarrassing to say?!
He kept insisting he was in the mood to buy me something since we so rarely go clothes shopping together. Finally, in American Eagle I let him buy me a men's sweatshirt in XXL. It was the only thing that fit me--the largest men's size in the store and the most shapeless garment available. The XL was too snug. The shirt is soft and snuggly, but it has the giant brand logo across the chest, which is something I stopped liking after high school. What's more, taking it home reminded me of all the painful years that I wore men's shirts because I couldn't find women's clothes that fit me...even though I longed so much to dress and feel feminine. I've since learned where to look--Lane Bryant, online sources, some department stores--but I'm not happy with the selection available to me. Never have been. And more and more, I'm slipping back into non-feminine clothes because I'm tired of trying to "make it work"--tired of fitted clothes that show my rolls and/or require support garments (hence sloppy hoodies and jeans as my default outfit), tired of underwire bras that lift but are miserable to wear (hence my wearing a sportsbra 99% of the time), tired of the pain of low heels and even flats (hence tennis shoes daily)...
It sucks to go to an outlet mall with fifty stores carrying women's clothes, and not be able to buy ANYTHING. There was a time he and I could shop together and have fun. Even when I was 70 pounds lighter than I am now, I still had to buy the largest women's sizes available at a select few stores, but at least there were some options at places like The Gap.
All this was swirling in my head as we drove home. I cried quietly in the car, which led to my husband and me snapping at each other. What a way to end the day, right?
I have to change, but I know the more dramatic and self-hating my attempts at change, the more they backfire. I have a long, slow trek ahead of me, and I'll be making it in men's shirts and sportsbras and saggy jeans and tennis shoes for awhile yet.
***
Enjoyed this post today by Kelliann. She is handling holiday craziness without losing sight of what's important.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)