Saturday, October 24, 2009

Breakfast is served...and eaten. And eaten. And...Ugh.

So I woke up this morning to a toddler in my bed, patting my forehead lightly as if I were a cat she's only met for the first time today. I was NOT ready. I also woke up feeling incredibly dehydrated (drank too much at a Halloween party) and incredibly THIN (more than likely due to my strict avoidance of overeating yesterday AND the level of dehydration I'd brought upon myself via beer and vodka). My hands crept down beneath the huge comforting comforter to comfort themselves by touching my belly, or lack thereof today... craving the flatness, and finding it. Loving it. Grazing fingers find sustenance in lean, sparse fields where hipbones jut up from the landscape like smoothyetjagged hilltops... My head was swimming and pounding, my mouth was dry and disgusting, but my body felt thin and light and I thought, "Well, at least there's that." THEN... drag myself out and into the real world, where my uncle is making pancakes and homemade breakfast sausage. The only thing I really want is a ginormous cup of strong coffee and a three mile run, and I can't get either at the moment. Instead, I must finish the housework I decided to forgo in favor of that party...good times, too much booze... Oh, but I can't very well pass up all this food, can I? NOooOOOoo... Damn it. Granted, I did follow my own (new) rule of consuming only half of what I'd normally serve myself, as that worked well for me yesterday. So I had half of a whole wheat pancake with sugar-free-low-cal-maple-flavored syrup... And a piece of sausage with a diameter similar in length to that of my pinky finger. Doesn't sound that bad, huh? Sure, as long as you stop there. I proceeded to add a banana, half an apple, a chocolate/peanut butter Atkins bar, a tablespoon or so of semi-sweet chocolate chips, and half of my daughter's pancake as well. YEAH. FAIL. Or is it? I'm going to do my best to be proactive in my positive thinking here and see it as what it was...A big breakfast. A breakfast not much bigger than the one so many others will eat this morning, thinking nothing of it. Move on. Get over it. It's not a big deal. Plus, I took one Alli (fat blocker), two carb-intercept type capsules (should help with the pancake), and two other thermogenic something or other calorie burning pills that I take pretty regularly before any meal, large or small. *sigh...* Cross your fingers.

Oooh... The bike. :D I should get on it right now. Well, grab my heart rate monitor and chest belt and then get on it. So I can't get to the gym... so what? There's cardio potential right here, so close. Gotta vacuum first, I suppose. I'll use the opportunity to exercise and burn off breakfast as a reward. Yay. :)

Oh, and a side note? In all of my drunken lack of inhibitions last night (no, I didn't make out with any girls... :P It's been over a year since I did that)...No, last night I simply broke down into an emotional heap of tears and confessions and finally told my boyfriend everything about my eating disorder(s). He's known for a while now that I struggle with my body image, and that I've been restricting my calories for over a year, and that lately I've made more changes in order to make myself healthier and more fit than ever before. That's pretty much all he knew. For fear (irrational as it may be) of losing his respect or causing him undue concern, I've not divulged any more than that through everything that I've been through. The mental agony, the anguish, the confusion and hate, the bingeing and starving, the cycle that literally sucks the life from... my life... it's all been bottled up and we all know how healthy that is. As I finally caved and told him everything, mixed feelings enveloped me. "What will he think of me now? Does he love me the same way, does he feel sorry for me, does he think I'm full of nonsense and making a big something out of nothing?" Ugh. Explaining eating disorders to people who've really never experienced any type of major psychological issues is so ... nearly impossible. Impossible to accurately describe it in mere words. I know I've said that before. It's just so true. The constant preoccupation with something, the obsession, the hate-love-hate relationship with something that's vital to life... Alcoholics can overcome their addiction and avoid alcohol for life to retain their sobriety, their sanity. Drug addicts? Same thing. I have, incidentally, been both, and have managed to come out on the other side better for the experience, glad to be alive and healthy after it all. But food... You can't just "give up" food. You can't swear it off, you can't make a conscious decision to improve your life by quitting eating. Unfortunately. I mean, you can, but then you're just a pro-ana wannarexic which, if that's what blows your skirt up, by all means, knock yourself out. I did that too. It doesn't get you anywhere good.

I'm rambling when I should be cleaning. That's what this little white box is here for, though. So I can ramble and it doesn't hurt/annoy/bother anyone.

Thanks. Happy Saturday.

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