Welcome, Welcome

So today I did do better than I thought I would...up until thirty minutes ago. I ate a reasonable breakfast and lunch, my snacking went a little over and I could have gone without the pudding popsicle I had after dinner.

Around 9:00pm I ate some cheese with coleslaw dressing, ice cream, pretzels, chocolate milk with chocolate graham crackers, Goldfish, jam with peanut butter, crackers with ranch and some frosted Wheaties. Luckily my dad was on the couch and woke up from his nap to ask where my mom was before I decided to have another cup of ice cream (at least it was low-fat and 100 calories per serving). My stomach kills right now, I really didn't do as bad as I have done in the past, but I wish I would have been strong enough to last the whole day. I didn't do as poorly as I had thought I would yesterday, but its going to be hard to get over this addiction.

So true! Josh Hutcherson is my dream boy!
Remember him being chubby a few years back? Turns out
he started to diet to get in shape for his new adult career.
I feel like he and I have a lot in common....

I've been trying to avoid a binge food of mine each day and I had been doing pretty well up until tonight.

Here of some of my biggest binge temptations that I've been trying to:
1- Graham crackers (chocolate, cinnamon, plain)
2- Peanut butter
3- Cheese
4- Ice cream
5- Maple syrup
6- Jam
7- Frosted mini-wheats
8- Mustard pretzels
.....and more.

I have another soccer game tomorrow so I hope that I can avoid bingeing after school like last week's little episode.

Here Comes the Binge

Today, my sister Holly was married to my new brother-in-law Christian S. They are too cute together! The reception was gorgeous (it was inspired by cute DIY ideas from Pinterest) and I loved being able to spend time with my siblings. I did pretty well up until the reception around 6:30pm. I monitored myself pretty well, but the event was catered by a gourmet doughnut shop....which practically doomed me from the moment I stepped into the venue. I guess I could have done worse than I did, but I ate about two-and-a-half doughnuts, more flavored popcorn than I should have (my biggest downfall of the night) and a huge piece of cake...plus fruit, vegetables, snacks and other finger foods along the way. I didn't necessarily binge, but I felt disgusting as the night drew to an end. I really need to learn to prevent these cravings and weaknesses of mine.

After the temple ceremony, we went to grab some lunch before the reception because we weren't planning on commuting across the valley for the entire day. I ordered a normal lunch, but I picked at my sibling's leftovers after I was done with my allotted serving ( I did manage to only eat half of my sandwich instead of the whole thing like I thought I would). Also at breakfast, I ate some spray whip cream and maple syrup (one of my favorite "snacks") which probably also wasn't very good either.

So I guess today was okay, but I wish I could have done better and been stronger. I justified my actions because it was a party and I should let myself have a little "fun" (it's pathetic how my fun has evolved from activity to eating...). I hope I didn't set myself back even further...I'm more than a little scared to see what tomorrow brings.

On a brighter note, my friends managed to make it up to the reception and we had a blast together. I'm pretty sure most of them came just for the free food (they were making plans to crash other weddings in the area after), but I was touched to see the few that came for me. I've noticed that the more I distract myself, like with friends or playing with my cute nephew, I tend to do better with my eating habits. Hopefully I'll be able to master this concept over the next few months as I try to lose the weight I've gained back. I realized that if I stay relatively strong for the next four months, I could lose at least 15 lbs and give myself a fantastic birthday present!

Riding the train Holly rented for the wedding
with my friends

Awkward moment on the train...yeah, we're pretty awesome

Congrats Holly and Christian!
Good try... me!

The Ugly Truth

So, I've decided that I tend to turn most of my posts into a poetic, metaphorical or flamboyant piece of writing. Sometimes I'm too extreme with my emotional spectrum, either unrealistically optimistic or annoyingly depressed. Now I finally realize that "pretty" words won't help me adequately paint a portrait of a binge eater; they probably won't help anyone else who is in a similar situation either (at the most, I think I've been getting a few eye-rolls instead). So my apologies go out to anyone who has been following me from the beginning of this experiment and please stick with me as I find my way around my own awkward writing process.

It's time for me to tell the truth  as ugly and uncomfortable as it may be.

For example:

Last Monday, I came home from school and had probably one of my biggest binges in few weeks. I had been fasting for the past three days in hopes of receiving revelation and a smaller appetite (probably not the best reasoning on my part). It became really hard to keep fasting due to my blood sugar spikes that dehydrated my body every time my levels went above 200 (I thought I would be okay fasting on a day I had a soccer game planned, unluckily for me it turned out to be 80 degrees outside when the game started and after attempting to run for a good 90 minutes, I ended up getting a major Charlie Horse in my right calve....it wasn't that good of an idea after all). By the time Monday came, I was pretty much spent. I came home and ate just about everything I could find. I had known that I had soccer practice at 4:00pm (I had gotten home at 2:45pm...I finished eating around 3:40pm) but I just couldn't stop myself. I remember thinking, "It's Mario's (my head-coach) day to run practice, the most we'll do is run a lap and shoot on goal for the rest of the time..so my eating won't really effect me, I'll get over however I sick I may feel now....".

To my horror, my friend Riley and I got to practice only to see cones lined up across the field and all of our teammates taking their shin guards off. Instead of our normal practice, Mario had decided to hold a "conditioning" practice  because we had run out of steam at our last game (the same one where my legs cramped up because I was fasting).

I was bloated, nauseated, frustrated and on the verge of tears. How would I be able to keep my food down? Why had I let this happen? What will my team think if they see me throw up? Could I go make myself throw up before my body chose to unexpectedly? My thoughts were in a million different places,  I must have looked like a hot mess. I decided to "cowboy" up and attempt the workouts with my team (we ended up sprinting for a full hour). My food was smashing around inside of me and my stomach felt like it was about to rip open with my next step I took. After the first twenty minutes, I couldn't handle it anymore. I ran to the closest bathroom to make myself vomit up whatever food hadn't been digested yet.

Ironically, I walked in to the building to find a little girl trying to figure out why the toilet wouldn't flush. She talked to me about her predicament and she eventually found a button the wall that you had to push to make the toilet flush. She washed her hands and kept talking to me for a good five minutes before she left. By then, I wasn't nearly as sick as I had been . Plus,  while she was with me, there was no way I could have purged with her in the room.

Going to Antelope Island last year with my family.
This was towards the middle of my dieting, I felt insecure then too.
After she had left, I did my business and decided to try to throw up before I left to go back on the field.

Now let me hurry and add in that this wasn't the first time I had been driven to such desperate measures. I've purged a few times, usually when my blood sugar has been out of control after bingeing. I'm not going to lie, I always feel better after.

I jammed my index finger down my throat, trying to coax my "snacks" back up. I ended up making some dry heaves and nearly choked on my finger. I had to get back, I didn't know how much time had gone by and I also didn't want to be thought of as a slacker. Disappointed,  I gave up and figured, if I was meant to throw up, at least it would be naturally now.

I tried to run back to the sideline, but the pain came back as quickly as it had left a few minutes before. I half walked, half jogged to my team. My fat sloshed around and my breaths were forced.  I ran a few ladders, but I lagged behind big time. I wasn't even close to running as fast as I usually could. It was embarrassing. Eventually, I decided to check my blood sugar to see if that was contributing to my difficulty with the exercises and to give me a believable excuse to take a short break. It (luckily) ended up being high so I was able to sit out for ten minutes to catch my breath and let my body digest whatever it could from earlier.

I made it through practice and I didn't have any other binging problems for the rest of the night. I guess you'd think I would have learned by now that bingeing and soccer don't mix. I guess next time I'll try to listen to my conscience a little better.

"Light Switch" Ludlow

My family has lived in our home for about 21 years, so it's no surprise that it's slowly falling apart and having technical issues.

In our smallest bathroom upstairs, the light switch never quite turns off anymore. If you push down quickly or with force,  the light will blink off and them burst back on again.
However, if you gently ease it down, the light dims and eventually shuts off as it should.

Call me crazy, but I feel like I'm exactly like that faulty light switch.

For months I tried to end my binge eating by abruptly stopping and making plans to go back on the same diet I started on a year earlier. Each time I did so, I hoped for immediate results and when they didn't come or I gave in to temptation easily, I snapped right back into my old habits with more force than before. I couldn't simply "turn off" my cravings like I was able to at one time in my life.

The broken light switch

Luckily I've learned my lesson and now I'm trying to take things a little slower.

I had to realize that I'm not who I once was. I'm broken and I don't function like I used to.
I've accepted that I'll probably binge occasionally for the rest of my life.
It's my responsibility to keep pushing myself and fail as many times as it takes until I can finally be in control again.

(I actually had one today which caused my blood sugar to reach 450 and stay there for few hours making it so I didn't feel up to hanging out with my friends tonight.)

I've resigned myself to taking this process slowly, pushing myself just enough for change to gradually happen. I can't keep forcing my "light switch" down hoping the light will turn off; even though I know I'm going about doing it the wrong way. Eventually, the switch will break leaving my "light" on forever.

And I can't afford to let that happen.


I've always been surprised to hear men talk about how drawn they are to fat-bottomed girls. Having been one for the majority of my life, I personally find big bums to be a serious pain in the you-know-what (no pun intended). 

I've been told that the voluptuous size of my derriere is a result of the Harrison family curse (or blessing to those who don't suffer from this genetic mutation). Many of my relatives suffer from this disease of the gutes (although my sisters seem to have some kind of super-gene that has definitely protected them from it....so far). Because of this,  I have been well endowed with more than enough "junk" in my so called "trunk".
When I lost 30 pounds last year, I was so happy to have finally conquered my buttocks. My sister had even commented that they had become significantly smaller (after she awkwardly grabbed me from behind). As soon as I began to binge eat, all of my weight slowly migrated down past my hips to that dreaded area of my body.
I'm sure hundreds of girls can only wish to have those unwanted curves that I happen to have, but it's always embarrassing to realize that your rear end might possibly have its own gravitational pull and that others have to clear a path for you to get by in cramped spaces.
(Nothing is as uncomfortable as grazing a stranger in the hallway)
However, the embarrassment is always worse when someone else points out your flaws.

Last week at my team's first soccer game of the season, we had the privilege of playing a super classless team from Park City. Aside from the fact that one of their players started a fight on the field with one of our players, the entire team used offensive language as a tool to intimidate us throughout the game.
About halfway through the game, I was running towards the ball and heard footsteps beside me. As I turned to check out my competition, I heard the remark, "Move out of the way big a**!" Obviously, she was hoping I didn't hear what she said because when she turned around to double check, her face looked shocked when she noted my extremely offended reaction.

I'm not going to lie, it definitely was a major blow to my self-esteem.

I hate the saying "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me".
  1. Bones heal, no biggie, you might have a scar or two but thats about it.
  2. Harsh words never leave you and keep resurfacing for the rest of your life.
You decide, which is worse?

I feel like a more appropriate saying would be:
"Sticks and stones may break my bones (that will heal with medical attention), but your words will always hurt me"

Last soccer season
Note my incredibly small bum...
and  chiseled thighs.

I understand that she had no idea of my current situation or my already extreme insecurities about my body, I don't hold what she said against her at all (even though it was totally inappropriate to say that to anyone). I just can't get over the fact that I wasn't the only one that noticed my growing booty.
I couldn't help but wonder if anyone else had thought of what she was so bold to say.

My eating has been getting better and I've shrunk down my binges lately. I'm finally grasping the connection between my blood sugar levels and my cravings, preventing many binges that could have set me back even further. I feel like I'm fighting against a double edged sword sometimes. Diabetes complicates my recovery in more ways than I can even begin to explain.

A big bum is just a small part of my problem now. I have more important issues to tackle first (like that girl from Park City). I just hope that one day I'll finally be able to lift this family curse from myself...permanently.


"After a minute or two, silence would rush into the room from its hiding place because I had eaten up all of the sounds."
-Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

Back in the days when I felt like someone special,
not a pathetic mess.

I'll admit, some days I can't help but crumble.

Life can really stink. It can be depressing and dark. Sometimes, it can cause permanent frown lines.
( I already have a few by the corners of my mouth, age doesn't matter so beware!)

Yesterday morning I binged again (turns out I had high blood sugar, just another complication in this whole dilemma). Bringing on a day's worth of depression. Exercising helped me push my emotions aside, but my "tough, indifferent girl" facade cracked on the way home from a trip downtown with my Mom and brother. An ad about "quick and easy" weight loss came on the radio and a wave of anger crashed over me. I felt like I was drowning in emotions, mostly confusion and frustration.

Then came silence.
What else could I do?

My world just seemed to be closing in around me and claustrophobia kicked in. I chose to save my breath instead of wasting it. I went into survival mode.

Whenever I can't handle life, I shut down.  It's my escape.

Once I lock down, it's hard to come back to reality. I try to hide it, but I'm pretty much an open book (...or more so blog). If I try to come to, it's like trying to stand with a broken leg; it can't be done and it's extremely painful.  My family ends up suffering because of my emotions (or lack of) and when I do choose to speak, it's never positive or kind.

 Not only do I suck the sound out of a room, I take the joy with me when I leave.

I usually try channel my frustrations towards myself and how I look. I push myself down in hopes of making myself hate who I am just enough that permanent change will finally happen.

It never does.

I run to the fridge for relief as soon as I can't take it anymore. I listen to my stomach instead of talking to others. It feels like a punch to the gut....and my self-esteem.

Usually sleep is just about the only thing that can bring me out of my depression.

I guess it's like walking outside after it rains.
Everything is still wet and murky, but at least the storm has passed.


Happy Easter!
Hope you had a chance to indulge by having some peeps, Robin's Eggs, Reese's eggs, Cadbury creme eggs, jelly beans or even a chocolate bunny as we celebrate Easter Sunday.

(Luckily for me, my fabulous "Easter Bunny" brought me nail polish this year instead (: )

As much as I love egg hunts, candies in pastel wrappers, freakish rabbit costumes and old family traditions, I can't help but think of the spiritual significance behind Easter. As I've gotten older I've noticed how much I allowed a wall of colorful plastic eggs and decorated baskets to block my view of what really mattered during this sacred holiday.

The atonement and resurrection of our Savior, Jesus Christ, has had a profound influence upon my life. Recently, I've had personal revelation come into my life concerning Christ and his role in my existence. I feel as if I have grown closer to him throughout my struggles these past few months. When I was at my lowest, he was there to raise me back up. He was my support that no one else could be. He understood me like no one else could. He was patient (and still is) as I fell back into my old habits and began the repentance cycle over again. He gave me hope when I had none and forgave me for the pain that my mistakes inflicted upon him.

Jesus Christ died for all mankind to be saved.
He lived that he might understand our trials perfectly.
He lives now to help us that we might triumph over this world as He did.

Whenever I feel overwhelmed by my setbacks and future ahead of me, I know that I won't ever be alone with Him on my side. I know that trials will still come my way, but by accepting His gift of the atonement into my life, whatever I will go through will make them eaiser for me to endure.

Our Heavenly Father gave us the gift of life, but our Savior gave us the gift to live.

For more videos or information feel free to check out:

Pork, Beans and Hot Dogs

Growing up in the 1960's and 1970's (mainly in rural Wyoming and small towns in Utah/Idaho) my Mom had quite the "unconventional" childhood.  I've always loved hearing her talk about her life (she probably regrets telling me a good majority of the things I've heard). As a result, I've tried to make an effort to stash each story into my mental filing cabinet for future use.

I fell like this next story might be a little abstract (I'm probably giving Picasso a run for his money), but bear with me, I promise it will all somewhat make sense in the end...hopefully...

High school sweethearts, Mom and Dad

My Grandma Kathy once read an article that stated mothers should try to give their families a variety of food items from one food group at every meal. A short time later, her family woke up to a breakfast smorgasbord of mixed proteins (hence the pork, beans and hot dogs post title). This was definitely not a traditional (or appetizing) American breakfast that consisted of classic meat staples such as bacon or sausage like the "Joneses" might have had.

Needless to say, my Mom still cringes at the combination whenever she recollects this "memorable" childhood experience.

I guess variety is a concept that I frequently abuse. I tend to eat a meal  and then graze around the rest of the kitchen "sampling" everything else along the way. This morning I had my typical breakfast of cereal, fruit, and milk. However, after I was officially done eating, I kept reaching into the box for more cereal. Then I progressed to having milk with the cereal, then maple syrup (don't even ask), more fruit, spaghetti (...), two leftover egg rolls from China Wok (with sweet n' sour sauce), half a brownie, graham crackers with chocolate chips, frozen bananas....and then I realized what I had just done to myself.  It was a breakfast that was probably comparable to the pork, bean and hot dog meal that my mother had to endure.

Both of which were not appealing or easy to keep down.

Originally, I thought I could do this and be satisfied by just having one bite of each thing I wanted to try and then go along my merry way as if nothing had ever happened.

 A word to the wise: It's never just one bite.
(Actually, I've heard that even for an extremely well-managed eater, it takes at least three bites to satisfy their cravings)

So why did I let this happen?
Well, there was definitely a degree of laziness and irresponsibility on my part. I let it happen and I didn't stop when I started to notice what I had allowed myself to do.

It felt like matter over mind, not mind over matter.

Stress also played a huge part in this fiasco too. I couldn't stop thinking about my homework I needed to finish, plus the areas of my house I needed to clean for our Easter dinner tomorrow and how to act on that double date tonight. I realize that these all must sound like ignorant justifications for my actions and they probably are. I know what I'm capable of doing and overcoming. The issue is that once I start with food, I seriously can't stop. The urge to eat consumes every fiber of my being once I let it in.

It's not that I don't comprehend the consequences of my actions or realize the end results; I actually realize them all too well. The nausea, the pain, the depression and disappointment. The high blood sugar readings and the lowered self-esteem. It's impossible to describe how well I know what I'm potentially getting myself into each time I sit down at a meal. It's terrifying.

Some days I feel like I'm only a step away from overcoming this disorder, that I've finally found my "cure"; but days like today always give me a harsh reality check. I again realize just how long of a road this is going to be.  I realize that only I can control what I do and don't eat.

It's been said that variety is the very spice of life.

My opinion?
Just make sure you don't treat it like an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Laughter is the Best Medicine


If you had asked me about my own a few months ago I probably would have laughed straight in your face and given a (very sassy) reply along the lines of, "Friends? I don't have any!" or "Who needs friends? All of mine suck." (my poor Mom heard those responses on a daily basis for about a solid month this winter). I guess I never quite realized just how much of an impact spending even a few hours with good friends could have on my life.

Today B asked me to come to his house to help him finish painting some campaign posters for the SBO primary election this coming Tuesday. Being my normal, pessimistic self, I really had no desire to go to his house and be social with others. I thought that helping him would most likely "waste" my entire "precious" spring break Friday (yesterday I sat at home and watched Glee re-runs on my computer, alone....all day....in my pajamas....wait a second....well....this is awkward....).

Out of guilt I forced myself to make an appearance for at least an hour (I had remembered that I promised him on Monday that I would go over with a group of friends...it also didn't help that he called me three times in an hour making sure I would come) and then leave as soon as my "time was served" at his house (my eating had been decent up to that point of the day, but my cravings were creeping up and I thought that I could use a trip to Ben's as an excuse to avoid any unnecessary eating).

I walked into his house to find his living room stripped down to nothing (all of the furniture ended up pushed against the wall and somehow one of his couches ended up in his kitchen) and a huge butcher paper poster at least 8 feet x 10 feet sprawled across the floor along with seemingly toothpick sized paintbrushes to use. Later on, after I got home around 10:00pm, B called me to ask me on a double date and to thank me for helping him out with the poster. He also told me that when he saw my face after walking into his living room he could tell that I was thinking, "What have I gotten myself into?! This thing is going to take forever!" (that kid must be a psychic...I literally almost turned around and walked right back out the front door). It actually wasn't that bad once we started painting. E, and B's neighbor, Andrew, were there to "help" too (they spent the whole time coming up with a list of twenty things that were made in China for a second poster idea...included was  Ben's conception...) so the work wasn't really work at all (except for me and Ben). I honestly don't think I've laughed that hard in a really long time. I felt welcomed and wanted for who I was; I felt comfortable with myself for the first time in months, despite the fact that I could constantly feel my thighs smacking together as I moved around the poster.

Minutes turned into several hours. I couldn't believe it, but I had lasted five whole hours without obsessing over food or being "hungry". I did give in and have some chips that were set out for us, but,  I controlled myself  by only having a handful. I consumed myself with  work and friendly banter instead of calories and carbs.  I felt like I was on top of the world, scratch that, on top of my world.

"Ben Law Ride Dragon"
We wanted to put an asterisk at the bottomnext to a sentence that said:
"Sorry if you can't read through my accent"

This was as far as we could make ourselves go,
I know it sounds pathetic, but trust me, this was quite the
project...that background took for-ev-er, it felt like a
neverending blue nightmare. No joke.

We ended up running to China Wok for dinner (trust me, the name might sound like your typical, tacky Americanized Chinese food dive, but the food was incredible) and I ate until I was actually full, imagine that! It was almost like being in the Twilight Zone, it was mind blowing! We headed back to Ben's to watch a movie from Redbox and try to finish up as much work as we could before we called it a night.

Looking back, I can't imagine how my day would have gone had I chosen not to go be with my friends. After today, I know it wasn't a coincidence that my binge eating took off when it did. I was at my lowest, with no friends to distract me from my depression or to save me from it. Instead, they seemed to be causing it, in my twisted, hormone driven point of view.

I've learned that friends really can make or break you.
However, in my case tonight, they helped piece me back together.

You Scream, I Scream...

Well, I officially hate ice cream.

Lately it's become one of my biggest weaknesses when it comes to binge eating. The days that happen to be my worst always involve some form of that frozen delicacy, like today. 

I was doing so well until I got the munchies around 4:00pm, I had a few pretzels and some cheese to try to satisfy myself until dinner, but everything just spiraled out of control from there. I left the room to preoccupy my thoughts with other things, but I felt extremely guilty for allowing myself to have a mini-binge right after I had just eaten and right before I was supposed to eat again. I figured since I slept in and didn't have breakfast, everything would even out and I would scrape by for the day. Around 8:00pm (an hour after dinner), I was in the middle of trying to make a decision about whether or not I should go to a "camp-out" at someone's house (this wasn't just anyone, it was my recently ex-best friend...so yes it was more than a little stressful). I went through some graham crackers, a handful of chocolate chips, cereal, a brownie, Girl Scout cookies, grapes and eventually found myself standing in front of the devil's lair itself, the freezer.

I had brought a spoon out with me so I would only "have a taste" of whatever was out there. (...Like that happened)

*Just a side note: For some reason I tend to eat out of a container of ice cream with a small spoon acting as if I would have less than the actual serving size, but in reality I always eat way more than I would have if I had actually measured it out in the first place. It's almost like a warped justification I tell myself. Once, at the very beginning of this disorder, I ate half a container of pineapple sherbet in one sitting...that was probably one of my worst food moments of my life.

August 2011. at the Dole Plantation on Oahu with the Fam.
Where I discovered Dole Whip for the first time, which is practically
Heaven in frozen form.
It's also the reason why my family bought that notorious 
pineapple sherbet I binged on a half-year later.

I originally had a few bites of ice cream and then walked away not quite satisfied. A few minutes later I found myself back in the same situation, but this time I found myself testing out our other carton of ice cream. I eventually brought it to the kitchen counter and started to snarf it down as fast as I could. I tried it with malted milk and chocolate milk powder too...just because I felt like it or more so, because I compiled to do so.

MayoClinc.com stated:

"Binge-eating disorder is a serious eating disorder in which you frequently consume unusually large amounts of food. Almost everyone overeats on occasion, such as having seconds or thirds of a holiday meal. But for some people, overeating crosses the line to binge-eating disorder and it becomes a regular occurrence, usually done in secret.
When you have binge-eating disorder, you may be deeply embarrassed about gorging and vow to stop. But you feel such a compulsion that you can't resist the urges and continue binge eating."

I can't explain why I tend to binge in secret (or why I have an infatuation with frozen desserts). I guess it's out of shame and fear of being caught. I remember while I was bingeing today, I was terrified that my Mom would walk in on me at any moment. I knew she would be upset with me. I guess that's why I ate the ice cream so fast, it was almost like an adrenaline rush, a game of cat and mouse. I've gotten a little better with resisting my impulses, but I am a food addict. It is my drug and I can't ever get away from it. Because of my bingeing, I can't tell when I'm hungry anymore (however, most of the time I do hear a very quiet, very desperate, Jiminy Cricket in the back of mind urging me to stop, but the poor guy has been so neglected, he's slowly starting to give up on me). Because of my constant urges to eat, my hunger hormones are completely out of whack, only complicating my cravings even more. I'm never sure if I need something or if I want it. I can't decide if  my blood sugar is low or if I'm somehow subconsciously tricking my body into starvation mode. It can get so frustrating sometimes. 

On a lighter note, I did notice that I happened to binge on the day that I didn't post the night before. I'm going to put myself through a little "experiment" and see if writing out my thoughts can really prevent my bingeing. I guess time can only tell, I just hope I can be patient enough to see the results.

I'm going to be staying away from the ice cream from now on too.


I figured I might as well show you where I'm coming from with some visuals.
(Pretty techy, eh?)
This was me in October, at 129 lbs. and feeling the best that I've ever felt in my life.

What I considered my "happy" weight....I'm not going to lie, I looked good!

Me and my Mom before Homecoming (October 2011)

This is me now, 30 lbs. heavier.

Actually, this was more like 20 pounds heavier...I haven't taken any pictures of myself since
 this one was shot at Benny's birthday party a few months ago.

As nice as it would be to go back to 129 lbs., right now I'm aiming for 140 lbs. Today was actually a really good day for me with eating and life in general. I don't really know what happened that was different than anything else I've done in the past. For starters, I didn't feel like I was going to starve after school and at school, which was incredible! I felt as close to normal as I possibly could have been at this moment in time. I also had soccer practice tonight which helped me get out of the house and burn off some of those nasty, unwanted cals. I hope tomorrow will be just as amazing as today was!
Wish me luck, I'm going to need it!

Last night I made cookie-dough brownies for K's birthday (it's a tradition I started with my friends...and also a contributor to my downfall...I don't recommend baking anything AT ALL unless you absolutely have to, it's just one more temptation and one more unnecessary problem) but I actually refrained myself from bingeing on the desserts. I had some leftovers that I refrigerated for my family to try and took them out after school to get rid of those tasty seductresses officially before l lost my newly found control. My brother had tried some and when my Mom came into the kitchen she noticed that some were missing from the container. She immediately assumed that I had another binge session and she was completely justified based on my past behavior with sweets. Luckily, I was able to say (proudly) that I hadn't had a single brownie (although I did have a taste of one just to get the craving out of the way before it got out of hand). It felt incredible to have firstly, not lied to her (another nasty side-effect of bingeing) and secondly, I had no reason to be ashamed of myself (I can't begin to say how long its been since I havent been upset with my actions). I guess I really am making progress. Wow!


To be honest, I started this blog for entirely selfish reasons. Yes, I want to support others facing the same disorder and insecurities that I am, but I guess I also wanted some form of support in return. I figured that by making a public journal and speaking out publicly I would have more accountability for my actions, more guilt for my decisions and ultimately more individuals to disappoint. 

For the past five months, I have been a "closet" binge eater. A few family members have occasionally stumbled into my "secret" world or come across one of my infamous hour-long binge sessions. Those who haven't had the honor of doing so can tell that I've changed; in my personality and demeanor. With each month that passed the pounds I gained ate up my lingering hopes of being "skinny" and "happy" faster than I could down a container of maple syrup. I justified my actions and attempted to "purge" a few times (luckily my body wasn't as willing to barf as I obviously was) in moments of pure desperation. The thought of death was constantly on my mind. I thought of how easy it would be. My friends wouldn't care (we'll talk about that one later) and I would be free from my refrigerator's magnetic pull (no pun intended).

Over the past months, I've learned that bingeing is an extremely hard topic to explain; especially to those who haven't experienced it firsthand (I've learned that with binge eating, it's best to avoid having an elephant like that to be in the room, it might just be too tempting to eat). You always just start with a taste, then you sample bits and pieces of whatever you may come across (claiming to still be eating reasonably), then you progress to bigger bites, another dish, different ways to eat each item, different recipes to try, new combinations, and so on. Sometimes while trying to avoid something you know will "ruin" your eating for the day, you eat substitute foods that are just as bad or worse (I usually give in and go for whatever I try to avoid in the end...curse ice cream). The foods don't even necessarily have to taste good, it's the craving that you're satisfying, not your taste buds. It's the brief measure of instant gratification that keeps you going. The world stops, but your impulses won't. Eventually, you slowly take control again, several minutes or hours later.  Slowly, you take in the reality of your actions. The extreme happiness fades and waves of negative emotions crash down like a tsunami. You're drowning in yourself. Life rafts that come in the forms of water "noodles", doughnut/ "LifeSaver" shaped water tubes and water "weenies" (that ironically look like bananas, not floating hot dogs). You still feel pulled to the food, even if your stomach is screaming in pain (I've caught myself twitching or unable to focus when I don't cave in to my wants). You go back later for more, trying to figure out what it is that will satisfy you. All too quickly, the nightmare starts again.

I began to realize just how severe my obsession with food was about two months into my new eating "habits". I tried to diet again (I had previously lost 30 lbs. the year before through diet and exercise) and with each attempt, defeat and depression followed. By the time I talked to my parents about it, I was (lightly put) a broken individual. I went to bed crying each night, I fought with those who tried to help me and ate even more to console my emotions (humiliation, desperation, depression, stress). For myself, it was especially painful because I had gone from having everything under control (including my weight), to complete and utter chaos. It was embarrassing to have been brought to my knees by something so insignificant as a box of graham crackers or a carton of sherbet. I couldn't escape my new found "enemies" because I literally needed them to live. My life now resolved around food. 

I'm hungry all the time. It's almost like a possession (imagine the Cookie Monster after eating a cookie laced with crack) that drives you to eat not only your food, but other's food, healthy food, junk food, stale food...I think you get the idea.

Binge eating is more than just simply an "eating disorder" its a disease that first attacks you physical well-being then steadily progresses to your mental health, emotional health and finally, your spiritual health. It's been placed by scientists on the scale of a meth addiction. I've found myself often questioning my faith and doubting my capabilities. I often separated myself from my family and reality. Social situations became a death sentence. My pride withered away as my body size increased.

I don't really know if there was a single or specific event that drove me to bingeing, I've decided that it was a collection of events that mutated together to form some kind of freaky Godzilla-Esq monster. Everything just happened to mash together at the wrong time and I was doomed to break down sooner or later. From friend drama (Junior year...enough said), to lice infestations (that happened to come back three times), high blood sugars (caused by bingeing), crazy homework (AP classes), family arguments (don't get me started on that one) and even just stress itself (obviously). I also admit that with all of these events aside, I was weak. I gave in. I'm still lacking the will power needed to make a change. I take full responsibility for the state that you and I now find myself in. I know that only I can make a difference in my life. It's my choice to stop. It's my choice to listen.

I hope that my words relate to anyone who is in these same, uncomfortable shoes. It's incredibly lonely to feel like no one understands you and to have no idea what to try next. For you, I'll keep posting until I've found myself "cured" or at least a pound or two smaller.
In the immortal words of my sage mother, "Life sucks and then you die." and in respect to my family's time old motto, "It could be worse.", its important to remember that life may (or always) suck and yes, everything in it could be worse, but fretting over past mistakes or worrying about the one's you're sure to make will only hinder your progress. One thing that I've had to learn the hard way is the concept of taking each day (and its disappointments) as they come and moving on from there. We need to live worthy of our futures without dwelling in our pasts.

It's really all we can do.

My family or in cheesier words, my biggest supporters