One of the craziest things about having a blog is how well everything gets documented. My photos, my life events, my stories, my style, my clothes, my traveling, and, of course, all the goals that I set for myself.
And as my blog’s date stamp tells me, today marks 30 days since my calorie counting mission started. Thirty whole days of a challenge I set out to blog and write about, but then… well… the calorie counting challenge was the biggest failure of a challenge I’ve ever done, but life wise, it was absolutely the best challenge I’ve ever done.
I’m just going to just lay this out there, type it up quickly for those who are interested, and then close my eyes, hit publish, and go to bed before I can regret it. Because yes, this is incredibly scary of me to write about. So here goes. And please be kind.
Nine days into my calorie-counting-obsessing-over-food challenge I started to severely binge eat. It was horrid and awful and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. Throughout the days I would divide my calories out throughout specific meals and snacks, and then write it neatly in my journal, and then at night I would get an overwhelming desire to eat a lot of food. Which yes, I gave in to.
I’ve spoken about binge eating before on the blog, and although from my own personal research, and speaking to friends about it, I know I don’t have a severe binge eating disorder, I have to acknowledge it’s there nonetheless. I fully admit that. I Liz, have a problem with food.
For most of my life I’ve gone through phases of binge eating. However, I’d go through weeks, months, nearly a year(?) without feeling that crazy desire to eat all the food creep in. And for the past few months, I’ve been chugging along in a relatively peaceful manner, battling with myself not to overeat, but not battling with myself no to binge it, which, for those of you who relate to this post will know, is an entirely different ball game.
And then I started the calorie counting challenge. And then, just has night turns to day, I started to consistently and secretly eat a lot. Too much. And fuck, it scared me.
And perhaps it’s turning 30 later this year (yes!), or perhaps it’s simply thinking enough is enough (yes!), or perhaps it’s realizing how not normal this is (yes!), at one in the morning a few weeks back, I emailed a therapist who specializes in binge eating. And for the mere price of $210/hour (!!) I have now had three sessions.
I went into my first session completely neutral and open and hopeful. I had no idea what to expect, or what was going to happen, and although I know therapy can only change me, if I’m willing to change myself, after three sessions, I am impressed, and more importantly, I want to change and eventually will be able to.
I have debated many times whether I will blog about this time in therapy, especially as she thinks my weight loss blog adds to my issues (not a surprise whatsoever to me, the pressure and embarrassment I get from having a weight loss blog and sitting a few pounds a weigh (pun!) from my starting weight is a huge (second pun!) embarrassment), but I also don’t want to boldly declare I won’t be writing about it, incase I decide to. Which I may, I’m not sure yet.
So yup. There’s all that. The moral of this post is really to let you know that there will be (as there already has been) a drastic decrease in the number of food and weight loss posts, with the hope that one day I’ll be able to share with you everything I’ve learned, but until then I hope you simply enjoy my life shenanigans, which yes, will include many leaves and horses and beaches and apartment shots, while I take the time off from the weight loss side of this blog to work on me.
Thanks for listening,