Song of the Day: No Light, No Light by Florence & the Machine (Photo Credit: ny156uk available under a Creative Commons Licence ).
Really struggling with the binge eating at the moment. I feel so ashamed of my behaviour. I’m greedy and out of control. I hate the way I feel after I’ve binged- bloated and sick and guilty and full of shame. So why the hell do I do it?!!! Aaarghhhh!!
I hate that I can’t stop. I have no ability to delay gratification and my impulse control is virtually non-existent. I’m so worried for my health now. I was hoping going back to the gym would automatically help me to focus on health and nutrition, but it doesn’t seem to be working that way!! Guess it’s early days.
I don’t remember a time now when I wasn’t extremely preoccupied by how I looked. At school losing weight was more about avoiding any teasing. I guess a lot of it is STILL worrying about what other people think of me. Are they judging me as much as I judge myself? It’s quite narcissistic really to think that other people are focusing on how you look. I’m convinced that when I walk out of the house I stick out like a sore thumb, I feel so self-conscious and am only comfortable walking around Spixworth really early on in the morning when no one else is about. It’s not that I don’t go out, I do, but I just love knowing that nobody is there to judge me- it’s freeing. I am extremely harsh on myself. I don’t mean to be. Controlling the thoughts your mind comes up with is bloody hard: you’re a fat heifer, why would anybody ever find you attractive? You look like a kid, I hate the way you look- just a small sample of the pleasant things I say to myself. Don’t realize that I’m doing it half the time, which makes it harder to stop. But because I do this to myself, I assume other people are also thinking the same things about me.
As a slim teenager I actually thought I would rather be dead than fat! I was very self-controlled, maybe too controlled, and I guess I was guilty of judging larger people harshly. Now I am fat I don’t want to live this way. I don’t want to die, just not to live life like this: waking up everyday hoping I’ve lost a few stone (!), feeling my stomach, how big is it today? Worrying about what I’m going to eat. Thinking about how I look every second of every day. It’s weird because even though I take very little care of my appearance in general these days, I’m still worrying about it, maybe more than I ever did! I honestly think my anxiety has never really improved, I seem to have a chronic level that always exists in the background. Suppose that’s Generalized Anxiety Disorder, which I understand is a common co-existing condition with Bipolar Disorder.
Why is it so important to me for other people to approve of everything about me? And it really is you know! It’s almost the main point of my life, to make everyone like every little thing about me. Guess it all stems back to the whole keeping your parents happy thing. They were very depressed when I was growing up (see Family Secrets: We Don’t Talk About That Rachel ), and I felt it was my job to keep them as happy as possible. If I came on the end of their wrath I felt so worthless. You don’t exist as a child without your parents- you’d be abandoned if they disapproved of you so badly, and my Mum & Dad’s reactions could be pretty devastating. I need to be gentler on myself. It is not my fault that I have learned these thought and behaviour patterns. But I am the only one who can change things. That’s a huge responsibility- taking care of myself. I want someone else to do it for me! It’s so scary to take responsibility, well, to me anyway. But I’ve got to remember I’m worth it (cue L’Oreal hair tossing).
Really struggling with the binge eating at the moment. I feel so ashamed of my behaviour. I’m greedy and out of control. I hate the way I feel after I’ve binged- bloated and sick and guilty and full of shame. So why the hell do I do it?!!! Aaarghhhh!!
I hate that I can’t stop. I have no ability to delay gratification and my impulse control is virtually non-existent. I’m so worried for my health now. I was hoping going back to the gym would automatically help me to focus on health and nutrition, but it doesn’t seem to be working that way!! Guess it’s early days.
I don’t remember a time now when I wasn’t extremely preoccupied by how I looked. At school losing weight was more about avoiding any teasing. I guess a lot of it is STILL worrying about what other people think of me. Are they judging me as much as I judge myself? It’s quite narcissistic really to think that other people are focusing on how you look. I’m convinced that when I walk out of the house I stick out like a sore thumb, I feel so self-conscious and am only comfortable walking around Spixworth really early on in the morning when no one else is about. It’s not that I don’t go out, I do, but I just love knowing that nobody is there to judge me- it’s freeing. I am extremely harsh on myself. I don’t mean to be. Controlling the thoughts your mind comes up with is bloody hard: you’re a fat heifer, why would anybody ever find you attractive? You look like a kid, I hate the way you look- just a small sample of the pleasant things I say to myself. Don’t realize that I’m doing it half the time, which makes it harder to stop. But because I do this to myself, I assume other people are also thinking the same things about me.
As a slim teenager I actually thought I would rather be dead than fat! I was very self-controlled, maybe too controlled, and I guess I was guilty of judging larger people harshly. Now I am fat I don’t want to live this way. I don’t want to die, just not to live life like this: waking up everyday hoping I’ve lost a few stone (!), feeling my stomach, how big is it today? Worrying about what I’m going to eat. Thinking about how I look every second of every day. It’s weird because even though I take very little care of my appearance in general these days, I’m still worrying about it, maybe more than I ever did! I honestly think my anxiety has never really improved, I seem to have a chronic level that always exists in the background. Suppose that’s Generalized Anxiety Disorder, which I understand is a common co-existing condition with Bipolar Disorder.
Why is it so important to me for other people to approve of everything about me? And it really is you know! It’s almost the main point of my life, to make everyone like every little thing about me. Guess it all stems back to the whole keeping your parents happy thing. They were very depressed when I was growing up (see Family Secrets: We Don’t Talk About That Rachel ), and I felt it was my job to keep them as happy as possible. If I came on the end of their wrath I felt so worthless. You don’t exist as a child without your parents- you’d be abandoned if they disapproved of you so badly, and my Mum & Dad’s reactions could be pretty devastating. I need to be gentler on myself. It is not my fault that I have learned these thought and behaviour patterns. But I am the only one who can change things. That’s a huge responsibility- taking care of myself. I want someone else to do it for me! It’s so scary to take responsibility, well, to me anyway. But I’ve got to remember I’m worth it (cue L’Oreal hair tossing).