RC #4

Reality Check day… OMGosh… it’s down again. I am safely below that “bad” number and edging on the next. The only thing to do is keep on going. What’s a little walk through fire now and then when the end results are worth it? Someday, there won’t be any “bad” numbers of poor distribution putting too much stress on old bones.

I have to admit that I am tickled by the number on the scales, even though weight loss is just a SIDE EFFECT of recovery, not the be all do all of anything.

By today’s number, I have lost a grand total of 73 pounds.

I have a hard time claiming that as I’m embarrassed about how fat I was considering how fat I still am. And it is not like a steady drop either. I had lost fifty pounds by my 50th birthday, gained some back, up and down repeatedly, so it has only been about thirty pounds since last Fall, when I started on this path of recovery.

I’m starting to think of binge eating disorder in past terms, catch myself using WAS instead of IS, but I will not consider myself fully recovered until the symptom of excess weight is gone. By then, the unseen symptons should be gone, too. It is really a mental thing more than physical, another reason not to focus on numbers. It’s not about vanity, it’s about sanity.

Instead of rewarding myself for good behavior again (kind of redundant when living binge-free has become the norm), I decided to start wearing a necklace my sister gave me when she returned from wandering years ago. It is a little circle of Black Hills gold, no bigger than a half inch, on a “used to be too short but fits fine now” delicate chain. She got it for me because she’s really into the meaning of circles and knew I liked Black Hills gold. I think it makes a nice symbol of recovery, a trinket to remind me that I am whole, unbroken, and dwell within a circle of peace and harmony, if that makes any sense.

In other words, it’s going to be okay. Thanks for reading!

Reality Check Sunday

I slept hard, slept in, and slowly awoke in the midst of a bingeing nightmare.

I have not mentioned binge eating disorder for awhile because I did not want to write about it, didn’t even want to think about it. So much for avoidance.

In the dream, I was bingeing on sugar, a homemade concoction of a creamy nougat center coated with caramel and pecans (later peanuts, when pecans became too exspensive to keep up with me) and double dipped in chocolate. They were shaped like gourmet easter eggs and my sister was making them for a wedding. She needed hundreds to serve all the guests, but I was sneaking them by the handfuls. She resorted to hiding batches all over the church and I was still eating them, hunting them like easter eggs and gobbling them up for the mind numbing sugar high. By the end of the dream, the candies were individually wrapped and boxed in attempts to slow me down, but only long enough to rip each open.

Oh yes, definately a nightmare. Yet thinking about it later, I realized what was missing… the dream lacked guilt, remorse, and shame. It also lacked that sicky thing that comes with a real life sugar high binge. (Anyone who thinks it is impossible to experience a sugar high has never consumed enough to get there. Most people, I assume, get sick enough to stop before the numb rush kicks in. Suppose that sick thing is body rebellion trying to make you stop before serious harm occurs as it can’t be healthy to mess with glucose levels or whatever physiology is going on.)

So, that was an odd dream… but dreaming it reminded me that avoidance is not the best way to deal with anything. Avoidance is just a temporary escape from reality.

At the same time, I don’t want to become obcessed with recovery from binge eating disorder as that is almost as bad as being obcessed with binge foods. I don’t want to have to think about it. I want “not an option” to become “not an issue” someday.

In all honesty, I am not quite there yet. I have become quite adapt at stopping binges in the early stages, but I’m skirting the edge, walking the fence, and crossing over the line a little too often. And the scales, the undeniable means to check reality, prove that with stagnation. If bingeing, I gain weight… if not, I lose.

It has been exactly one month since I stepped on the digital scales for a precise number, as I weighed myself at home before going to the doctors on March 28th, and the number is only two pounds less… which doesn’t count as a lost as it is “normal” to fluctuate up and down a couple pounds. I weigh the same.

Okay, maybe the body “reaches a plateau” between loses but I know the reason has more to do with number of times I’ve had to stop myself from bingeing and yes, I can lie to myself with words like “progress not perfection” which I know is total bull. That’s like saying it is okay to stop yourself from chopping off your fingers after your hand is a bloody mess. It is much better to just not do that in the first place.

Since I have the tendency to use avoidance, maybe I need to scheduale a weekly weighing as a reality check. If I use the spring scales (shown below) instead of the digital, then (maybe) I won’t become obcessed with the actual number down to the tenth, thus limiting possible personal judgement to a simple okay or not okay. All I know is avoidance is not cutting it.

As for the pencils on the scale? Ah, that is the other thing I need to do this week, narrow down my dick blick wish list and order pencils to replace some stubs. Thanks for reading!
~ Nancy