What follows is just a personal rant and sort of self-discussion to get my mind straight, because I'm just not thinking right right now. If it doesn't make much sense, I'm sorry. I'm not really writing this for everyone to read, but more for myself. That said, input can help me. I'm ready to be happy, and sick of saying that.
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What brought this blog on:
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I think what was happening was I was addicted to grains and sugars. It took me a looooong time to find out, but I've found that when I don't eat them, I can control myself like it's nothing. When I found this out and stopped eating that crap, it was a night and day difference. After a year (how long it took me to figure it out), not wanting to eat was the most alien feeling ever. I could be hungry and not feel like eating, contrasted with being so full I'm going to explode and still want to continue eating.
Anyway, when I figured this out, I started doing better, and started consistently getting back into the shape I was. I got down to 178, and thought the road was clear and I was going to be happy with myself again, when I slipped up. It was a human mistake, slipping up and eating junk. When I get off, it's the hardest thing to get going the right way again. I can't get over the fact that I screwed up, and can't stop thinking about how big of a failure that I am.
Finally, where this all ties in:
I started on the path again, and was feeling soooo good. My mind was clear. I was going to go for a full month without grains and crap, and I was doing it. I'd gone for the longest I ever have without them, and my confidence was booming. My mom brings home a ton of good healthy food from the store. I eat rasberries, bananas, carrots, blueberries, strawberries, zucchini, onions. Totally healthy stuff, and a healthy amount (I ate 1600 calories that day, little enough that I can lose weight). The next day, I get home from school, and eat similar stuff. After I'm done (ate a good amount, enough to lose weight again). I go and watch some streams, and then I get the old feeling. I need to eat crap. I find myself walking through the kitchen, catch myself, and go back to my room. After I watch another game, I get up to go to the bathroom. And end up starting eating junk.
I got so down about this. I still am. But I shouldn't be. I realize now that it's probably carbs in all forms that are doing this to me. Not just grains and sugary stuff, but too much fruits and veggies too. Now that I know that, I can just move on and do it better, because I won't eat that many carbs ever again, right? My mind just won't let me. I want to say "It's ok, move on, and this time you can do it" but my mind is stuck telling me "How could you screw up when you were doing so well?"
I feel like if I forgive myself, it'll just lead to complacency. How else am I going to step up? If I just forget and condone what's happened, I'll just stay in the same rut. But at the same time, those negative thoughts are an extremely limiting thing, right? I don't know what should win out. Forgive but don't condone, I guess. Do it for real this time. But whenever I say that, it just leads me to get down even more when I mess up. Leading myself on, thinking it's going to work, and then messing up again.
I'll give it another go, because I'm not going to quit. I'm going a full month (until October 4th) without eating crap. I think setting a tangible date will help. After that, I'm still not going to eat them. This time for real.
I think after reading this a lot of people will tell me to go see some sort of councilor or something like that. I want to prove to myself I can do this on my own- it'll make me stronger when I'm finished. I know it will. My pride won't let me have it any other way.
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I have some kind of eating disorder. I don't know exactly what it is, but this is the story.
A few years ago, someone called me fat, completely as a joke. I was in no way fat- I was in great shape. I had always thought that maybe I was a little big, and this got me thinking about it more. A few more jokes, and I started considering losing weight. I looked up diets and all that, and started eating less. I was 5'11" 173 pounds, very active- I played football, basketball, soccer, rugby. You name it. I lost about 12 pounds, getting down to 163. I was pretty happy with that. But something in my mind kept telling me I was fat. It didn't make sense to me, but I thought that since these thoughts were so dominating, it must be true. I kept trying to lose weight. I skipped meals. I wouldn't eat after basketball games, eating only 1200 calories, thinking that that would help me the most. Stupidly unhealthy things like that. I began losing a lot more weight, and with it muscle.
By the end of basketball season, I weighed 148, and was obsessed with food. I counted every single calorie I ate every second I had spare time, doing my best to make sure I hadn't made a mistake in how much I'd eaten, because if I ate and extra 100 calories more than I thought I should, I'd gain 5 pounds (or so I thought). I watched the Food Channel 2 hours a day at least to see food, read the ingredient list of anything I could find, obsessed with nutrition labels, asked everyone if I could cook for them so I could be around it. It was terrible.
One day, at a family reunion, I started eating. And my body kept telling me to eat more. So I did. I didn't stop. I probably ate 6,000 calories in that one sitting (not exaggerating). And I got incredibly sick. I puked all night, and continued to be sick for 2 days. I got over it, but the next week we went to Cancun, and the same thing started happening. I didn't eat as much, but with a buffet every meal, I was consuming a ton of food, with no self control. I couldn't stop myself.
The next month continued, and I was obsessed with losing the weight that I had gained, which I did. But once summer started, everything went down-hill. Over the summer, I gained 40 pounds. I stayed inside all day and played video games. I couldn't bear seeing anyone. I was so ashamed of the way I looked, and more importantly, that I had no self control.
A few years ago, someone called me fat, completely as a joke. I was in no way fat- I was in great shape. I had always thought that maybe I was a little big, and this got me thinking about it more. A few more jokes, and I started considering losing weight. I looked up diets and all that, and started eating less. I was 5'11" 173 pounds, very active- I played football, basketball, soccer, rugby. You name it. I lost about 12 pounds, getting down to 163. I was pretty happy with that. But something in my mind kept telling me I was fat. It didn't make sense to me, but I thought that since these thoughts were so dominating, it must be true. I kept trying to lose weight. I skipped meals. I wouldn't eat after basketball games, eating only 1200 calories, thinking that that would help me the most. Stupidly unhealthy things like that. I began losing a lot more weight, and with it muscle.
By the end of basketball season, I weighed 148, and was obsessed with food. I counted every single calorie I ate every second I had spare time, doing my best to make sure I hadn't made a mistake in how much I'd eaten, because if I ate and extra 100 calories more than I thought I should, I'd gain 5 pounds (or so I thought). I watched the Food Channel 2 hours a day at least to see food, read the ingredient list of anything I could find, obsessed with nutrition labels, asked everyone if I could cook for them so I could be around it. It was terrible.
One day, at a family reunion, I started eating. And my body kept telling me to eat more. So I did. I didn't stop. I probably ate 6,000 calories in that one sitting (not exaggerating). And I got incredibly sick. I puked all night, and continued to be sick for 2 days. I got over it, but the next week we went to Cancun, and the same thing started happening. I didn't eat as much, but with a buffet every meal, I was consuming a ton of food, with no self control. I couldn't stop myself.
The next month continued, and I was obsessed with losing the weight that I had gained, which I did. But once summer started, everything went down-hill. Over the summer, I gained 40 pounds. I stayed inside all day and played video games. I couldn't bear seeing anyone. I was so ashamed of the way I looked, and more importantly, that I had no self control.
I think what was happening was I was addicted to grains and sugars. It took me a looooong time to find out, but I've found that when I don't eat them, I can control myself like it's nothing. When I found this out and stopped eating that crap, it was a night and day difference. After a year (how long it took me to figure it out), not wanting to eat was the most alien feeling ever. I could be hungry and not feel like eating, contrasted with being so full I'm going to explode and still want to continue eating.
Anyway, when I figured this out, I started doing better, and started consistently getting back into the shape I was. I got down to 178, and thought the road was clear and I was going to be happy with myself again, when I slipped up. It was a human mistake, slipping up and eating junk. When I get off, it's the hardest thing to get going the right way again. I can't get over the fact that I screwed up, and can't stop thinking about how big of a failure that I am.
Finally, where this all ties in:
I started on the path again, and was feeling soooo good. My mind was clear. I was going to go for a full month without grains and crap, and I was doing it. I'd gone for the longest I ever have without them, and my confidence was booming. My mom brings home a ton of good healthy food from the store. I eat rasberries, bananas, carrots, blueberries, strawberries, zucchini, onions. Totally healthy stuff, and a healthy amount (I ate 1600 calories that day, little enough that I can lose weight). The next day, I get home from school, and eat similar stuff. After I'm done (ate a good amount, enough to lose weight again). I go and watch some streams, and then I get the old feeling. I need to eat crap. I find myself walking through the kitchen, catch myself, and go back to my room. After I watch another game, I get up to go to the bathroom. And end up starting eating junk.
I got so down about this. I still am. But I shouldn't be. I realize now that it's probably carbs in all forms that are doing this to me. Not just grains and sugary stuff, but too much fruits and veggies too. Now that I know that, I can just move on and do it better, because I won't eat that many carbs ever again, right? My mind just won't let me. I want to say "It's ok, move on, and this time you can do it" but my mind is stuck telling me "How could you screw up when you were doing so well?"
I feel like if I forgive myself, it'll just lead to complacency. How else am I going to step up? If I just forget and condone what's happened, I'll just stay in the same rut. But at the same time, those negative thoughts are an extremely limiting thing, right? I don't know what should win out. Forgive but don't condone, I guess. Do it for real this time. But whenever I say that, it just leads me to get down even more when I mess up. Leading myself on, thinking it's going to work, and then messing up again.
I'll give it another go, because I'm not going to quit. I'm going a full month (until October 4th) without eating crap. I think setting a tangible date will help. After that, I'm still not going to eat them. This time for real.
I think after reading this a lot of people will tell me to go see some sort of councilor or something like that. I want to prove to myself I can do this on my own- it'll make me stronger when I'm finished. I know it will. My pride won't let me have it any other way.