I’ve been doing something and I feel the need to confess it publicly. My therapist will be on vacation for our next session, so I won’t see her for a month. I feel like I started doing this thing at a time when I knew I would not have to confess it to her.
I’ve been keeping a food diary. Privately, in my Day One app.
In other words, I’ve been tracking. It’s just been a few days. I’ve felt so frustrated with myself for continuing to overeat and eat stuff I didn’t want and never noticing patterns or feeling better or DOING ANYTHING TO FIX MYSELF.
At the same time, I started because I’ve been feeling poorer than usual, and I’m not convinced it’s not because of what I’ve been eating. Still I can’t pretend that the structure of writing everything down doesn’t satisfy me in a way I haven’t felt since quitting Weight Watchers. That feels…wrong. Like I’m not supposed to do that. That it’s giving in to the very compulsion I am trying to overcome. I really just want someone to tell me what to do, what’s the right thing, where the answer is. I’m tired of putting my own life and happiness on hold while I obsess over what I’m eating and what it’s doing to me. I feel like if I do this for a little while it will get easier, but I suspect the only thing that will get easier is continuing to track and measure and judge and spin. But I don’t know, so I am telling myself to keep doing it and make sure. While also telling myself I am just feeding my addictive voice what it wants.
I don’t know. I’m feeling a bit lost, obviously. So there, I confessed. I still overate this morning, I still feel ashamed and tired and confused and fussy and sick of it. No coincidence, my DH left for a two month gig out of state today and everything at home is off-balance. I’m busy, both at the office and the theatre. I have a Fix coming tomorrow and I worry nothing will fit. I feel overwhelmed and anxious and eating everything sounds like the best plan just this second. And worst, I can’t tell if this is all healthy feeling-my-feelings or if this is what denial and stuffing feels like. And I am so, so tired of myself.