Lets see if I can write this without a lot of negativity. The pattern after a binge is to be full of remorse and confessions and promises of redemption. I just don’t want to fall into that anymore. If ever I am going to learn how to change, I must face the challenges with kind understanding, not reproach. I built several good days together eating-wise, but it popped. I think of it as like those childhood toys:
Each day I add another bead until I pop one off and then I have to start all over again to build them up. Maybe I could find a way to add the days together in a visual form?
I am still battling the leftovers of a cold, hesitatingly suspecting it may be close to becoming pneumonia. I am hesitant, because the symptoms are intertwined with two binges. Consumptions of wheat and sugar make me feel tired, the excess food makes me feel ill and it could be the fullness of my stomach is pressing on my lungs or something equally gruesome. lol. Both Monday and Tuesday I skipped lunch and binged instead:
Monday: 3 trays of mini sponge cake rolls (about 10-12 in a tray and the size of my thumb), 3 plain buns with butter and cheese, 4-5 teacakes (marshmallow on a biscuit and covered in chocolate). They were terrible and it took eating several before I was sure of it and I threw the remaining dozen out. (I came very close to skipping this binge, there was a strong pull to not even start it, but I overrode my own protests).
Tuesday: 1 single packet of crisps, 2 plain buns with butter and cheese, 1 plain bun with chicken paste and curry sauce, 1 package of jam dodgers. (Once the crap is in the body, a new craving sets in and takes on a life of it’s own, I simply did this one without giving it much thought).
On both days I ate my usual low carb breakfast and dinner in my porringer. On both days, my stomach felt painfully full and from the point of finishing eating until bedtime, I was miserable, exhausted, could hardly breathe and depressed in mood. I did not take my blood sugar readings, I did not want to know. Usually I spike to nearly 200 on these occasions and hold a high reading of about 180 for the rest of the day…I do not drop to normal in 3 hours as I should. My digestion is notoriously slow. I felt like a blimp that was made of stone. Huge and heavy.
Now, this is not meant as a disclaimer, but my bingeing is getting smaller over the years and I am frankly shocked at how these amounts (while still most definitely a binge in every sense of the word) cannot be compared to my past debaucheries. I could barely get these amounts down and this would have only been the tip of the iceberg only 5 years ago. I think as this recognition continues, these binges may eventfully fizzle out on their own. I can’t stand the stomach pain and distress. It was just Sunday that I clung so joyously to feeling well and empty inside without hunger. This is where my cold-illness may be taking part. I really felt that exhaustion-shallow breathing-not-enough-air thing going on. Husband was getting worried last night, but I didn’t want to admit that I had binged and that it may just be about being too full. I admit in a round about way of my eating urges and we discuss at length how difficult it all is (for him too) but to say out loud that I binged today is much too shameful to me.
Today, the process begins on getting back to what feels good. My pattern here is to take a few days to cover my vulnerable binge period (mid-morning) with a pot of tea and cheddar with a thick layer of butter and eat them like buns with butter and cheese. After while, I will be able to drop this as I did the last time. I try not to berate, not to regret and go through what might be a trigger. Instead, I try and keep my head clear of negative thoughts, keep myself busy with knitting and let the day pass as a good one and build onto it with another good day.