Binge Eating Disorder is one sick little fucking monster. I hate it. I hate everything about it. I’ve been sick since Saturday with a cold and it’s taking the life out of me to get anything productive done. Why is it I can’t lose my appetite too? Ugh!
I don’t feel like working out and I was on a roll last week with the Shred. So, I feel like a failure for not pushing through the sickness.
Right now, all I want to do is get in my car, drive to Harris Teeter and get some of their homemade buttercream icing in a tub that they sell in the bakery. Seriously, it’s the business. Icing is my drug of choice.
I’m not doing that.
Instead, I was trying to figure out what I had in my house to “cure” my sweet tooth. The only thing I could muster up was pancake mix. Yes, seriously.
I was about to mix up some raw pancake batter and eat it like a fat kid.
I seriously thought to myself how fucking stupid that was and how it wouldn’t even “cure” my sweet tooth. With clouds of pancake mix flying into the trash and tears streaming down my face, I through it out. All of it.
I grabbed a bottle of water instead and headed back to my office.
I don’t REALLY want to eat pancake batter. It’s simply a replacement for the icing that I’m actually craving. And according to my therapist and every other bullshit thing I read about binge eating disorder, I don’t actually want the icing either. I’m “emotionally’” craving something else. I’m “hungry” for something other than food. I mean it makes sense because I’ve been really rethinking a lot of things in my career/professional life the past few days.
It’s been a really “off” week in terms of my health and getting over this ridiculous cold, so I’m not putting too much thought into it. I’m sure that taking my grandmother to the cancer radiation clinic today doesn’t help either. I’ve told you a million times that I don’t deal well with the thought of death and well being around a bunch of people battling cancer isn’t exactly a pleasant experience.
On most days I look at the positive and good in every situation. I really do. Today I’m just feeling weak and these are the days that count the most for making good choices when it comes to food.
I promised that I would blog about my journey, even when it’s not a bright shiny happy day. Blogging has become my therapy even though there’s many things that I just can’t share with the world on there. It makes me miss going to see my therapist every week to get all of that crap off my chest. I never wanted to stop going in the first place and I was devastated when I had to quit. Grrr.
I don’t even know why I’m sharing all this. It’s pretty much coming across as gibberish and bitching. Oh well.
“Even the rich are hungry for love, for being cared for, for being wanted, for having someone to call their own. “