When I got home from work, Chebbar sheepishly admitted that he needed to leave his debit card at home with me: he has "issues" with stopping for fast food, regardless of whether or not he's actually hungry and/or can get home in a reasonable amount of time to make a meal - he comfort eats, just like lots of people. In an effort to... empathize/commiserate/show understanding, I told him about the not-so-nice thoughts I've been having about my body every time I've passed a mirror in the last little while. I've officially surpassed my highest weight ever, and it shows (at least to my eyes): my arms look huge, my gut looks like I'm six months pregnant, and my trunk has enough junk for
Blissfully unaware that Aunt Flo had arrived with the twins, Batshit and Insane, he blithely stated that we need to "purge" the house of "all the junk food" (read: ice cream, because unless you count the chocolate chips used for baking, that's pretty much all we have at the moment - we don't usually keep a lot of crap hanging around) and stop buying potato chips for weekend lunches.
Along with an instantaneous feeling of panic at not being able to have an ice cream cone when I felt like it (*ahem* control issues), I immediately felt attacked. I recognized this, as well as the fact that he wasn't attacking me, butd that I was thisclose to launching an offensive that I would likely regret, making a halt to the conversation a wise idea. He continued on, assuring me that he didn't mean for it to be an attack on me - after all, he was no better - but that CLEARLY what we've been doing isn't working for either of us.
I think I repeated the bit about feeling attacked/lashing out/STOP TALKING/blah blah blah two more times before I left the room.
At that point, I ended up in a snotty, soppy pile on the couch, boo hooing my way through a pity part of one. Oh, the self-loathing! I'm fat. I'm gross. I'm disgusting. I'm a pathetic failure. I'm embarrassed by and ashamed of my body. I hope Mom doesn't invite us for a barbecue because I don't want to be seen like this, and I don't want to go away for the weekend to visit his family because I'm disgusting (like I put on 30 pounds instead of 3 pounds). And how could Chebbar POSSIBLY love me like this? He'll leave me because I'm not perfect (*SNORT* like I've ever BEEN perfect in the last four years? HAAAAA).
It was RIDICULOUS. The most frustrating part is that I *knew* it was ridiculous, yet couldn't stop the water works (looking back, I should've just taken a damned Ativan and been done with it - derp). And I wasted SO much time wallowing and feeling sorry for myself that I ended up running out of time to do the workout I was actually looking FORWARD to doing. *shakes head*
Of course, after all that, I still wanted to dive head-first into the ice cream. I didn't, though, because I recognized that I wasn't hungry.
However, I woke up snarly and growly and cranky as hell on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Guess who rebelliously (because "I don't effing CARE!") comfort-ate this morning? *sigh*
What do you do for yourself self-care/comfort/soothing-wise when you're feeling blue? Other than eat, that is...
Oooh, yeah, non-food treats! I comforted myself with some really adorable new socks a couple of weeks ago. ;-)
ReplyDeleteOh, baby. <3
ReplyDelete*HUGS*
I give myself shoulder, arm, neck, leg, hand, and foot massages...take a shower...brush my hair [before the shower, only]...lose myself in some music or fiction. Drink water--dehydration contributes to irritability!!!
Taking an Ativan sounds like a good idea. ;p
I shop. It works better than food, because the endorphins keep the legitimate hunger at bay.
ReplyDeleteWell, as much as I want to pretend that I have some fantabulous strategy that means I always avoid falling into the carbohydrate binge place, I have to admit that my anti-comfort-eating tactics aren't superb.
ReplyDeleteBut!
I am a keen lover of tea (oh, hello stereotype...), and so because comfort carbs = warm and sweet (which is what I actually want, not the food), I just make myself a massive mug (as in, a venti bug-of-a-meast) of my favourite tea, dump in a ton of rice milk and go and hide away with a book or some Sibelius/Tchaikovsky. Before long I feel mostly better.
If I dont, I'll usually write some crud in my journal or some haiku about how life is hard and smelly and then mull for a bit.
Or, scratching all of the above, I'll make some freakishly large comfort-food food and then eat about a 10th and then feel like it's not actually helping and bin it all. It might be a massive waste, but I'd rather dump food that isn't going to serve me in the bin, rather than in my mouth.
Hey that's my friend you're talking about over there. I have major hearts in my eyes for you - there is no "bad" warrior or "good" warrior, there is only today's warrior - and maybe tomorrow's warrior has something to learn from her.
ReplyDeleteSigh - on the way home from the ballgame I went to with the guy who is not quite my boyfriend, but if I had a boyfriend, it would be him (I call him E in person), I was deliciously happy and snuggly and contented - until I saw my reflection in the subway window. And I was promptly grossed out and dejected and deflated and all kinds of "de" words none of which lead back to feeling as delighted as I did before checking in with my crazybrain's skewed view. But you know, E knew what I looked like the whole time and still wanted to hold my hand. Intellectually I know it's vital for self-acceptance and love to come from the inside... but it was enough reassurance to keep me from looking back at my reflection for the rest of the ride home.
Lately I've been trying to watch what I eat, so I soothe myself another way:nailpolish, a new shampoo, yarn, magazine, etc. I find I still need a treat to soothe, so I make it a non-food treat.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry yesterday was such a mess. Here's hoping for a better end of the week. xo
We all lose the little battles from day to day, but I have no doubt that you AND Chebbar will win the war. I love you, lady. And your win this time? Taking the step to realize how it could have gone differently, maybe next time it will.
ReplyDeleteI may not be the best person to give advice since I'm a closet snacker. If I want a reasonable portion of any junk food - read: chocolate, chips... - I have to hide it and eat in secret. Not a good thing. I have gotten back into either walking or biking in the mornings. This has actually helped curb my appetite for snacks, that and keeping track of EVERYTHING I eat. Seeing it all in black and white has been quite enlightening.
ReplyDeleteSometimes I allow myself a good cry...sometimes I read...sometimes I distract myself on the Internet...sometimes I call someone (although one of my favorite people to call – my Dad – is no longer here). Out of these options, I think the first and the last are the healthiest...that doesn't mean I always choose them, but I am aware.
ReplyDeleteI have a friend who spent months trying to control her emotional eating-what worked for her is taking a walk around the block and having a glass of water. That gave her enough time to evaluate if she was really hungry or just wanted something.
ReplyDeleteAlso, you are beautiful! Don't let Aunt Flo tell you differently! She's a jealous bitch!
You are a noble body image warrior. But even a warrior can have a bad day. Don't beat yourself up. Love you!
ReplyDeleteI love you and your bad body image. And if there is any way I could make this better and help you I totally would. Start small. Eat well. Work on that little bit first. Everything else will fall in place. Just ask Sebi---he was furious that I made him break up with Little Debbie.
ReplyDelete