Thursday, April 26, 2012
I had a pretty bad binge last week.
I started out just planning my meals poorly. I ended up going off to Coachella the weekend before and I was pretty heavy then. I had wanted to be really thin and lean and nice looking for the festival but one thing led to another and I ended up being a bit higher up on my weight scale than I’d wanted to be.
The festival was incredible. I danced like I never danced before, had some amazing self discoveries, bonded with friends, made some connections, and fell in love with some bands. I truly had one of the best times of my life and it was great! I weighed pretty much the same when I got back from the festival which was good because I definitely inhaled food like nobody’s business while I was there.
Last week I’d been working to try and cut back down on my weight to no avail. Despite my daily trips to the gym and healthy intake of fruits and veggies, my weight stayed steadfastly at 108.6. I like to be around 106 if I can. Yesterday, I’d made plans with a friend of mine to go get some Indian food. During the day, I ended up having a bit too many calories but I didn’t eat much of the Indian food I’d had at night. I ended up getting into a super deep conversation with my friend, though. He didn’t know about my abusive past and I’d decided to let him in on it since we’d been friends for quite a few years and I feel close to him.
I actually felt pretty bad about the sharing experience. His reaction made me feel like I was hiding my history from him (which I wasn’t) and that he’d always knew there was something off about me. Even the mildest things that I mentioned made him thankful that my past wasn’t his and I felt a bit ashamed. He only wanted to be supportive of me and respect what I went through but it made me feel bad about my history which I’ve gotten so much better at accepting.
After we parted ways, I was just going to shower and go to bed when one of my best friends called me in emotional crisis.
My friend who called me had taken his girlfriend to the abortion clinic earlier that day. He’d gotten her pregnant and they’d decided they were not financially in a place to keep the child. He kept the ultrasound picture of his first child and was pretty torn up about how his girlfriend was taking it. Well, turns out that the child wasn’t his. She cheated on him and was happy to let him think that he had killed his first child. He only found out that the baby wasn’t his because he’d found her phone with the text “I think it’s my ex’s” to a friend of hers.
It’s hard to explain how she tortured him. Getting drunk and spitting in his face. Complaining when she had to take care of him if he got drunk. Making out with girls in front of him but not showing him any form of affection. He would come to me bi-weekly in torment over how this girl he was crazy about was treating him and I would gently encourage him to leave her but he was just too scared to lose her.
Anyway, while we talked about the evening I ended up eating the rest of my Indian food, three bags of chocolates, and half a bag of Reeses. I ate so much I felt SICK. Then the two of us went to bed and I drove him to work early in the morning. My body was just in hell all day from eating horribly the night before, barely enough sleep, and emotional pain.
Since then, I've been working pretty hard to try and get myself back on track. Eating pretty healthy and going to the gym as often as I can. I weigh myself tomorrow to see if I've undone the damage.
I'm just too highly empathetic, I think. My ego has been taking a battering these last few weeks. Each of the five people I care about the most except my sister (My friend I shared the Indian food with, my friend with the bad girlfriend, my roommate, my best friend in the world) have systematically taken me down a notch.
My friend with the bad girlfriend (everything is settled at the moment) went along thanking just about everyone else for helping him through this difficult time but not me. I'm not trying to be selfish or anything but it hurts to see him thank someone who gave him advice when I drove over to his girlfriend's place soaking wet to rescue him, drove him to work the next morning, and got out of bed to make sure he was all right when he had a final confrontation with her.
My roommate took me aside to basically tell me what a bad friend I was being for not taking him to get coffee every now and again. My friends are like my family so this was devastating to hear and it's not the first time he's said that to me. We ended the conversation on a more positive note but he still cried hysterically and I felt like we didn't really fix HOW we were going to communicate better.
My best friend took a video of me dancing (having the time of my life) at Coachella and basically made fun of me for it, showing it to other friends of ours as a joke. She's my best friend in the world and I'm pretty hurt that she would make my expression of joy into something I'm ashamed about and feel foolish over.
Anyway, I've been a bit down lately. I'm hoping that tomorrow's weigh in will go well and things will get a bit better.