I’ve relapsed again. Back in the throes of my eating disorder, I am currently in the binge phase of the beast. I recently committed the sin of starting a restrictive food plan and like a perfect equation, a few weeks of weight loss yielded a trip to Bingetown. What’s amazing to me and still surprises me after all these years of living with my Eating Disorder is that I am completely blinded to the rational thought process of knowing my pattern and totally helpless to stop it. I know intellectually that when I restrict I can only adhere to the plan for a few weeks at the most before I fall deep into the rabbit hole of my ED. But the restriction and promise of weight loss is so tantalizing, I can’t resist it. I dive head first into the program and all its restrictive details and become the diet equivalent of a religious zealot. I am a Hassid of the diet du jour; adhering to its rules like my life depends on it. I feel good and lighter and am ready to loyally pledge my remaining days to this program. The weight comes off. I feel even better.
“One day off the program, that’s all” I tell myself. And then, one day becomes every day and I can’t regain any sense of my zealotry anymore. It’s like eating one bowl of Fruit Loops starts an almost chemical reaction of daily bingeing and I am powerless once again.
There’s no talking myself off the proverbial edge when I’m in the cyclone of ED. I am disassociated to the point that I feel like I’m being programmed by something outside of me. I’m unstoppable- like a Roomba gliding across my kitchen, hitting furniture but staying the course. When I’m in this dark and destructive place, I can’t be reasoned out of it, least of all by myself.
One of the many sad parts of this repetitious story is that fact that I don’t even taste or enjoy the food that much when I’m bingeing. I am too disconnected. The sugar and the bread quickly become my opium and I become semi-conscious and before I know it I’ve consumed an ungodly amount of carbohydrates. Cue the self loathing that shows up a few hours later as I regain consciousness and rational thinking, as well as the pounds of fat I just lost. Repeat over and over again.
I know intellectually that I can not commit to any restrictive food plans lest I end up here once again. But yet…. The “Before and After” pictures trigger me. The success stories trigger me. My reflection triggers me. The promise of fitting into my skinny jeans triggers me. And I am like a moth to a flame ready to be singed again and again.
So what now? I look at my Instagram and Facebook and am subconsciously searching for the next “solution”. What program can I commit to that will end this mess? As I’m numbing out on the internet, a small voice of reason and wisdom creeps into my ear saying “There are no answers here, lady”. The answer is not on a screen, not in a picture of clean meals, not anywhere external. The answer is deep within, hard to access, even harder to execute. I phone a friend who has traversed this road before me and finally found her sanity. I tell her- “I need my sanity back....help me”. She promises me no food plan and no program to dive into. She promises me the rest of my life spent honoring my body and listening to what it needs. I nod silently as my memory starts to spill out what I know works. Albeit slow and very un-flashy. It’s a matte portrait of success.
Intuitive Eating is the only thing that I know of that restores my sanity. It’s confusing and sometimes esoteric and full of stumbling down and making mistakes. But here’s the rub- it restores sanity. So I have no choice but to commit to the process. It beats the incessant roller coaster of restricting and bingeing. That, I can say with more clarity than I’ve ever had, is a crazy-maker and needs to go away for good.
I’m rusty now and need a remedial Intuitive Eating class but I know how to access that. I have the tools. I’m ready. Farewell ED- I’m sure I’ll see you again but hoping I can firmly tell you to leave. You’re not welcome here anymore. I’m looking forward to all the free time I’ll have without ED renting space in my head. No vacancy, old frenemy- I’m outgrowing you.