My introduction...sort of
Monday, June 24, 2013
I want to start by stating that my name isn't really "Darla". "Darla" is the name I used to give out to strangers (men) in social situations when I didn't want to tell them my real name. I was younger, cuter, and thinner then. I chose the name Darla because it sounded cute (as in Darla from "The Little Rascals"), but also a little sexy, like a Vargas pin-up girl. I continue to use "Darla" as a pseudonym out of habit, but now instead of teasing behind it, I'm hiding behind it. I'm hiding my shame, my depression, my anger, and my dirty little compulsive eating secret. I would like to one day introduce myself by my real name, but for now--I will stay "Darla".
Probably like most who come here, I have had my ups and downs with weight-loss. To look at me, you wouldn't necessarily think I was that overweight. I'm quite tall--5'11" to be exact. And with clothes on, I admit I can look fairly decent. I have been much thinner in the not-so-distant past, and I looked more than "decent" then. I would like to get back to that thinner place again--that weight where my clothes fit me comfortably, and I don't feel like I need to hide beneath baggy over-sized sweaters. But, since my public appearance (as opposed to what I see privately in front of the mirror), is not remarkably large, what really brings me here is something less obvious than a muffin top. No one would likely guess that I have a terrible monster lurking inside of me--a voracious, insatiable beast that takes over my brain, mouth, hands, and will. The monster never calls ahead to ask if there’s room or if it’s convenient for her to visit. She needn’t ask because she’s become one with my being—she’s always with me, and she never lets me forget she’s the one with the upper hand.
What happened today to make it different than other days? What has finally brought me to start this blog in hopes of working this demon out of my system? Well, I recently had an epiphany that I am truly powerless over food. I really “got” it. I’ve heard it said by others before, but the meaning of those words didn’t truly sink in until a couple of days ago. Now I get it. I am a compulsive eater and all my efforts to end this disorder have failed. I made this declaration here on SP in an Overeaters Anonymous Team thread, and I thought about “abstinence” and what it meant to me. Bearing this in mind, I was “good” all day yesterday…until my husband invoked the demon with the magic words, “It’s ice cream time”. And then, it was all over. A huge dish of ice cream, and then the equivalent amount again, as I found excuses to go into the kitchen armed with a spoon. I snuck giant mouthfuls and hurriedly shoved them into my mouth lest my husband would catch me in the act.
Guilt-ridden, but also determined to do better, I awoke this morning telling myself that today is a new day. It’s Sunday—the beginning of a new week; the perfect day to start fresh. (Sound familiar?) I had my coffee, went to the bathroom, and weighed myself. For some reason, I was actually expecting to see a lower number on the scale than my last weigh-in two weeks ago. I guess that’s because I finally started going to the gym again. But instead, my weight had gone up 2.5 lbs. No matter that I know all about how the scale can lie, and also that I know in my head that it’s “just a number”. My heart sunk. I went downstairs, depressed but still planning to eat my breakfast and go to the gym. I ate my yogurt with fruit and Fiber One in it. I even went on to my SP Food-tracker to plan out what I would eat for the rest of the day. And then the monster woke up. She laughed at me and my efforts. She marched me into the kitchen and, at a mere 8:00am, she forced me to eat ICE CREAM!!! Ice cream straight out of the cartons (plural), followed by myriad other carb-laden foods. By the time my husband returned (around 9am) from working a short morning shift, I had already consumed well beyond my daily calorie quota. What’s worse is that when he sat down to eat his breakfast, I joined him with a big bowl of rice and veggies and then shared some melon with him. He had no idea how much I had eaten while he was out. He never knows. It’s my shameful little secret.
This binging has continued all day, and it’s only 3:35pm right now. Even though I’ve probably had at least 3 days’ worth of food, I am quite certain that I’m not done eating for the day. I’m going to end this entry now. But I just wanted to get started. It is my hope that in the future I can use this medium to work out my thoughts and my demons, BEFORE they send me into the kitchen.