So, Friday night was work’s Christmas doo – if you’ve been reading along for a while you’ll know that the prospect of a big night out generally makes me want to run at warp speed in the opposite direction, but for once I decided not to be an antisocial old git, and I went along. As it turns out, I had an awesome time, in fact I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much.
We’d arranged to have a pre-party face make-over, so by the time we got there I didn’t really look like me at all. We all sort of ended up with a similar version of the same thing, dark smoky eyes and a ton of face paint which I’ve got to say didn’t look half bad, right up until I got a bit warm halfway through the evening and my face started melting…it was nice whilst it lasted though. Except, I looked a bit like a panda. There were two girls doing make-up, and I think I got the rookie, you know?
Saturday afternoon was a low point. I’d woken up with renewed determination that I could kick the Asshole voice into the long grass if he started being a twat, and by 2pm I still had a full house of smart points left. Eating nothing seems to be the safest option for me, you know? I can hold out for ages, it’s stopping once I’ve started that gives me a problem. Anyway I ran a few errands, went for my nails and eyelashes done and then walked Charlie dog before I turned my attention to food.
That’s the point at which it went horribly wrong. I had a full-on binge, having decided that (wait for it, Asshole logic at its finest) since Sunday was my weigh day, and I’d actually given up trying to programme my new scales with the fancy stuff and just taken them upstairs, midnight Saturday was my line in the sand. Sunday I was back on it.
So best buy a Daim cake now because from Sunday when I woke up I wouldn’t be eating anything like that, right? So I actually went to the supermarket and bought the offending article, together with a family sized moussaka. And a large bag of crisps to eat whilst the moussaka was cooking. Not cheese balls, I wouldn’t let myself go there and strangely I didn’t even try.
Having vaporised the moussaka and the crisps, I cut myself a quarter of the Daim cake. It was gone in sixty seconds and oh my days it tasted amazing. So I cut another quarter and ate that too. I was starting to feel a bit sick at this point, but I had that now or never logic going round and round in my head…if you don’t eat it now you won’t be able to eat it at all, you’re back on the diet tomorrow…
The third quarter took a bit of getting down to be honest, but having eaten it I had to go hard for the fourth and final quarter, otherwise my boy would know I’d eaten three quarters of a Daim cake when he got in from work and I’d be too ashamed to look him in the eye. So I ate the lot, and got rid of the packaging in the outside bin before falling into a food coma and dozing in my armchair for a good couple of hours. I woke up feeling bloated and bilious with rampant indigestion.
Does that sound familiar..? It does to me. That was my life, once upon a time and I think I shocked myself at how comfortably I was able to just step back into the bad old days. And I brooded about it for the rest of the day, and into the evening. I felt so sick, which was hardly a fucking surprise.
Sunday dawned, and I didn’t feel any better. And then I stood on my new scale – which by the way will be known hereafter as the shitbird scale – and felt even worse. I wanted to know where I was at…well, let me tell you exactly where I’m at. I’m fifteen pounds heavier than I was when I set off for Cuba, that’s where.
Knowing the damage I’ve done drove it home to me how broken my thinking has become of late…I thought I’d moved way past all that head spam, but I’m clearly not as free and clear of it as I’d thought. Mary made an interesting point on Friday when she said
…as a side note… it seems like at first naming the Asshole voice gave you power over him. Because you named him and separated him from who you were and what you want, you could say no. But lately… it feels like when you do something you didn’t want to do, it’s because you felt like you couldn’t say no to the Asshole voice. You don’t seem to have that power over him any more, the confidence that you can overrule him, that you can achieve your goal. It seems like you feel like you’ll inevitably give in, so you might as well get it over with…
Mary, you are spot on. I can’t pinpoint the moment in time where I started hearing my own voice instead of his but I’d lost sight of how quickly I can turn a deaf ear and close him down when I feel like I’m the one in control. So, that’s my homework for this week.
Back to basics. Listen for the Asshole voice, recognise him, and give him a big fat kick in the ging gang goolies every time he tries it on. One day at a time. Yesterday was a good day, once I’d got over the horror of the shitbird scale and I even went to bed last night with points in the bank. Not because it was easy, he was chewing my ear all evening as it happens…but I tuned him out.
I’ve forgiven myself for the fifteen pounds…it is what it is, and at least I know what I’m dealing with now, right? It’s time to get this show on the road 🙂
Bravo to Mary!!! What I have found when I see myself sliding is there are two ways to get back on track. One is to get back to basics. Plan lots of clean eating…protein, veggies, repeat. Two is to change up what you’ve been doing and focus on another type of plan. So if you’ve exhausted Weight Watchers and it’s becoming too easy to cheat for you… try something else. I count calories and macros. It works for me. Your Rainer, The God of Pain should be able to point you in the right direction. It’s much easier than it sounds. Don’t give up, Dee!!!
I promise I won’t…you lot would have my hide in a sling apart from anything else!
um, quite right Mary, I wholeheartedly endorse that “Meh, this’s not even that good.”
But this was (used to be a common component of) a binge, a bingelet, what-have-you. I lived ALL ALONE and needed to choke down the whole 2nd half of something, & dispose of the packaging: that dissembling was necessary, I never thought to examine it. A reflexive grab at my floundering self respect.
It’s so comforting to pull you guys around me like a comfort blanket, knowing there’s no judgement at all, just an understanding because you’ve each walked a mile in my shoes. I’m rocking day three of my fledgling post-shitbird scale moment, and my food sobriety is holding. Come on Fleury, we can do this 🙂
Love to hear the sensible way that you move forward after the inevitable fuck-ups. Decades of building reward-circuits in the brain take a while to re-wire, and persistence is the key, and it’s all about starting over, and starting over, and starting over.
Hang in there!
Ah I will Crabby…one foot in front of the other and repeat! ?
Well thank God for recognizing it for what it is! I also have that mindset where I fool myself into the old, “Well, I have already gone astray, may as well just keep devouring…”
I want to say that I have gotten better at it, at saying that a small blip on the radar is better than a whole earthquake, and I need to stop NOW, but..you know. It’s getting better rather than worse….it is really a daily fight though. Especially with children and Christmas cookies in the house. I do love your honesty, and remember, you are not alone:)
Aw thanks Della…knowing you guys are in my corner is a huge boost ?
I would say scale (pun intended!) WAY down. No long term thoughts, maybe not even full day thoughts. Just ‘right now’ thoughts. One time at a time. And by thoughts I mean the doing of it. I may eat something bad later, but right now I’m not………
I’ve got two good days under my belt Tib, and like you say, one step at a time ?
One suggestion, Dee, is to split the voice inside into the asshole voice and the judge. Yes, add another negative voice, but assign it to critique the asshole thoughts. For some reason for me, it works a lot better when I have one voice tempting and another automatically criticizing. It creates the sensation of crosstalk–allowing me to sit back and think, will ya look at these two… I’m afraid to even guess the dark psychological reasons this is true, but it works!
(I had to google Daim cake.)
Oh wow, isn’t that a bit hard to keep track of? I’ll need to give that some thought, it sounds complicated but then I guess everything can be gotten used to if the end game is worth it, right? Thanks Margaret ?
You had a good day yesterday try stringing them together. One day becomes, two and so on until you have a good week then another good week until you have a good month under your belt again. Glad you have your week of food and exercise planned and organized! Work your plan stick to it and it will work on you!
I feel fairly buoyant today Susan, almost relieved that I’m not having to eat the wrong things. It’s fragile but it’s definitely there…
This week, when that voice is making you crazy, remember you are happier when you are in charge. That’s what i have to do when my inner child is pitching a tantrum. She’s happier when i’m in charge, too, although she doesn’t want to admit it.
I’m halfway through day two and it’s going okay so far…boundaries respected by all parties 🙂
I bought one of those huge Toblerone chocolate bars to share when people came over but then I had a piece, and another, and a few more the next day, and now I can’t share because everyone will know I ate half the thing by myself so I have to eat the second half secretly as well…
Oh my, I think we’ve all been there Natalie haven’t we? I used to do this all the time!
You don’t though! You can just throw it out. You don’t have to eat anything you don’t want. 🙁