I posted this a couple weeks ago on my WW blog but I thought it’s appropriate to post here. I haven’t gone indepth and personal for a rather long time.
This was more of an open letter to many other women (and the occasional fella) who had 30+ kilos to lose.
For the record, I’m 12.8kg down (13.3kg from when I actually started the week before my first meeting). Almost at my 10%. Go me.
Hi, my name is Ren, and I am a binge eater.
Where the heck did that come from? Well, it’s from a pattern of posts I see a lot on the forums here in WW and all over the web where weight and diets and health is discussed. The posts go something like this:
“I ate this and that and more of that and more of that other thing – I couldn’t stop myself!”
The posts either then go on to say how hard a time the person is having keeping to the diet or that they aren’t worth the effort of continuing.
Here’s what I say to that: “Bullshit!”
A little more than four months ago, I would regularly have binge eating sessions. It would go a little something like this:
Friday night, home alone, time to splurge! Roast chicken (half) for dinner, then for dessert a four pack of Nanna’s apple pies, carton of vanilla custard, a 600ml chocolate Big M, a 26 pack of chocolate seashells, a box of Anzac cookies.
I kid you not. I ate that. All of it. Over a period of about five hours. And then the sad thing is I would do it again the next day – because it was a Saturday and I was bored.
I’d invite friends over for lunch and have some tasty stuff in the fridge but I’d eat it before they arrived.
For some sick reason, subconsciously I think I didn’t want to miss out on the good stuff. I could eat a whole box of apple pies because I simply could. I didn’t have anyone standing over my head saying “Ren, I don’t have enough money to buy you more so you have to make that last” like it was when I was growing up (single parent family, money was understandably tight). I could also soothe my craving for sweet food and the texture and pleasant feeling of food in my mouth.
It wasn’t until my semi-breakdown at the end of last year when I finally emailed Janet out of sheer desperation to ask her what the hell I was supposed to do to fix myself that I had my first breakthrough. It was just a simple bit of advice from the lady who is and always will be my best friend and guru…
There will always be more food. You don’t have to eat it all now.
I’m paraphrasing, but that’s essentially what it was.
It was such a simple concept, almost too simple. But it was delivered at the right time, by the right person, and because of that it struck a chord that really hasn’t stopped resonating.
I still have a problem with food. I don’t think I will ever not have a problem with food. Like alcoholics and people who smoke, you don’t become an ex-smoker or an ex-drinker. You’re an alcoholic who doesn’t drink anymore. You’re a smoker who doesn’t smoke anymore. Me? I’m a binge eater. I have finally entered that stage of my life, however, where I am taking control of what I do. The rest of my life moving forward will be a time of vigilance and taking ownership and being accountable.
For those of you with a binge eating problem, who are finding the sudden change in lifestyle harder than expected, just remind yourself that the block of chocolate you don’t finish today can also be enjoyed tomorrow and the next day…
Just because you might binge out doesn’t mean that you are a bad person for not being able to control yourself. It’s a process – you have to learn the practice of moderation. For some it’s easy but for others, like me, it’s very hard.
But take it from me as someone who ate 12 cupcakes in one day at Christmas time last year, you WILL learn, you WILL change, you WILL adapt and you WILL be successful. Keep trying, be vigilant but most of all, be patient with yourself.
(Please note: Comments are open but trolls will be fucked and burned.)
… and a little bit of bitching.
There is a lady who goes to my WW meetings who annoys me greatly. She seems to think there is a queue while we’re waiting outside the venue to be let in.
There isn’t, of course. We’re at a school with a small indoor foyer area that’s outside the hall/gym. It’s usually chilly outside (I go to an evening meeting) and I want to stand inside out of the wet and cold. So I apologise and squeeze through. It annoys the woman immensely because she seems to think that we should all be lining up in order.
In order of what?
Why? We’re all staying for the meeting, it’s not like we’re only going to weigh in. She and I both stay for the meetings more often than not (I’ve only missed one due to being unwell) so it’s not like I’m gaining anything by getting inside before her.
Last Thursday was a cracker. She actually complained in my general direction about “queue jumpers” so I loudly discussed the issue with my mother (who also attends WW), basically saying that if we were just weighing in and leaving then people complaining about queue jumpers would actually have a point but seeing as I still have to wait 30 minutes or more for everyone to be weighed before the meeting even starts, it doesn’t really matter who goes in first. We’re all still fucking waiting!
So yeah… Annoying.
Mind you, this is the same woman who, after 12 weeks of membership (we signed up on the same night) has lost very little weight. Of course, it’s never her fault that the scales don’t move. It’s always someone else or something else that’s to blame. Usually it’s because of people who bring in cakes and sweets to work. She feels guilty if she doesn’t have some or the food “calls” to her.
Bullshit. Bull. Shit. Food does not “call” to anyone, lady. You eat it because you make the decision to stuff your face instead of excercising a modicum of control. No one is sitting on your expansive chest and forcing cake into your gob. You’re not beholden to eat shit that people bring in just because they’ve gone to the effort of making it. And besides, how often do birthdays and special events happen at work that you can’t lose weight around those times? No, lady, it’s because you can’t be bothered eating right even at home. I hear you talking about having fish and chips after the WW meetings.
We had this discussion in the meeting on Thursday and I could only roll my eyes and mutter (probably a little too loudly) “Stop fucking making excuses” because my mother pinched me and I got a nasty look from the person sitting on my other side. I can’t help it. If I can lose 10kg with a tiny bit of effort, I know she can. I hate it when people play stupid.
I’m not saying I’m perfect either. Last week I lost nothing and the week before that I lost only 200g (which is a bit of a wank but I’ll take it) but I know why I didn’t lose anything. It was because I was stuffing my face with shit and not doing any exercise apart from the absolute minimum. The difference between me and this other lady is that I don’t make excuses for myself. I simply over-eat or I eat the wrong thing. That’s what it comes down to, not, “Oh, the food is CALLING ME!” or “My colleagues are FORCING me to eat cake!”
It makes me angry, obviously.
Next week she’ll have been diagnosed with a glandular condition, you just wait and see.
Oh wow, almost a whole month and no new posts.
Things have been extremely busy. I’ve made new friends, I go to training every Saturday morning and get my arse kicked by my personal trainer. I will be going to gym through the week too (as soon as I get my schedule sorted), Bronagh is taking up a LOT of time too – still trying to figure the puppy out. But she is very cute. I’ve also been taking photos of all and sundry so…
Here you go…
Author : Emma (IP: 184.108.40.206 , vg28.vodafone.com.au)
E-mail : Truehurts@hotmail.com
Whois : http://ws.arin.net/cgi-bin/whois.pl?queryinput=220.127.116.11
So, how is the Tony Ferguson going? Or did you substitute the fact you gave up and made yourself feel better from buying a dog?
Emma, Emma, Emma.
Please grow up.
But since you asked, I’ve stopped the Tony Ferguson shakes thing (since it’s not good for you long-term) and started Weight Watchers at the very beginning of the year. I’ve lost 6.6kg so far and I’m doing it the right, healthy way because I’m teaching myself how to eat right and look after my body instead of punish it with food. I have a wide circle of friends who are effectively my support group, cheer squad and amateur therapists, and I’m getting my arse kicked once a week by my personal trainer.
The puppy I bought simply because I wanted a puppy and have done for the past ten years.
So what are you doing to better your life? Nothing, I gather, since you’ve got the time to be a troll. That’s ok. Some people were born to greatness, others have it thrust upon them.
And some choose to remain low-life, shit-for-brains, pecker-heads. Like you. ;)
So, I have this technique of talking to angry males… It doesn’t always work but I do tend to get more hits than misses.
I play dumb. I am overly bright and bubbly and don’t argue so much as giggle and agree and promise to be good. And I have been told my voice can sound quite young (as in sexy girl young as opposed to little girl young) on the phone.
Disarming, I believe is the word that’s been used.
It happened today at work. I allowed a call to be put through and the guy was Pissed Off. My colleague laughed at me. I could feel my brain start to melt and drip out of my ears as I continued talking to him…
Er, well it wasn’t so much talking as squeaking, giggling, agreeing with everything, promising (in a slightly lower tone) the earth moon and sky to make him happy again.
He was laughing by the time I’d finished with him and my voice was at a pitch that could have shattered glass.
Yesterday I had the absolute pleasure and delight of photographing Anya. She wanted a gothic fantasy theme as opposed to outright boudoir, and I reverted back to my old self – taking pictures in order to manipulate them into fantastic fantasy themes. We ended up doing three different looks. The first being a classic “vampire” look along the same vein as the artworks of Victoria Frances. Both Tam and I got some beautiful images from that which I can’t wait to show off.
Next came a succubus theme which was all Anya’s idea. Imagine devil’s horns and a black net body-stocking g-string. She rocked it.
Lastly, we decided to get a bit crazy and go a little Tim Burton-esque. Smudged makeup and marrionette puppet poses and then a slightly disturbing series with a teddybear. When I show you the pictures, you’ll see what I mean.
Anyway, here are some preview images I’ve posted around the place…
“This is really good, right now, between us. Isn’t it?” Shitty memories aside, Marie decided she was in love with Martin. She had no idea when that happened but she now had enough of the man in her head to know that he’d fallen for her but hard, too.
“Aw fuck, you two again?” Marie looked over her shoulder and immediately tensed up at the sight of a shaggy and annoyed-looking Logan standing in the doorway. “Don’t you two let up for a second?”
“Fuck off,” Marie tossed back, turning in Martin’s arms to look at the other mutant.
A snort. “Make me.”
“Don’t temp me, sugar, we both know I can knock ya into next Tuesday.”
“Ya last attempt wasn’t too successful,” he smirked back at her. His jaw had hurt – for all of five minutes. “How’s the hand, Rogue?”
Marie, and her inner Martin, growled. She was already instinctively reaching to pull off a bracelet. Logan noticed and narrowed his gaze at her. Metal claws oozed out from between his knuckles and he put his fist up in warning.
“You’ll lose limbs before you’re close enough to touch me, kid.”
She let go of Logan’s throat and stepped back, dropping her hands to her sides. ”Give him a reason t’ fight you like that again, Logan, and I swear I’ll rip your spine out through your chest – metal skeleton or not. Somehow I don’t think you’d heal from that.”
Heh. Just in case you’re wondering… that’s based on X-Men, with one of Allison’s original characters thrown in.
Mind you, I still love the comic I have where Marie kisses Logan.
Oh… I HAVE A KINDLE!!!
It’s very cool. Tony got a torrent which had a load of books (umptimillion) so I loaded 250 of ‘em onto the Kindle. I’m going to be reading forever.
I think I’ll name it Frank.