Fat me & a Sunday morning hangover…

Sunday morning, I have woken numb, and headachy, I just feel dreadful, like life has escaped through the pin prick holes all over my skin. So very numb. Foggy head. Not yet dead. Alive and must continue. Oh this life. Traveling in circles I tell you, like a merry go round I just keep coming back to the same spots making the same mistakes. With all of it.

Take a seat, tell me all about it DC, get it all out of your head.

So this feels already like its to be some kind of therapy session, sit on my couch tell your psychologist all about DC. Self indulgent nonsense, so this is my warning, ok? Read no further if you don’t want to be subjected to my mind dump. Ok, so, disclaimer dispensed.

Sunday morning hang over. Worst foggy head, numb in my bed. But I haven’t had a drop, not a single drink. But what I did do yesterday was indulge in my drug of choice, filled my body with sweet poison. With all manner of delectable cakes and sweets, ate till I felt sic and then ate some more. Delicate poisons killing me slowly. Sugar and flour, colours and synthetic flavors. Filled until I felt ill, pulsing through my body, toxins bulging in my head. Overindulgent, disgusting and loathsome. I know, I know, woe is me, bring out the fucking violin. Life could be worse.

Weight, fat, disgusting, self loathing. So, so fat. That’s what is in my head. When I woke in all my foggy glory, I was just filled with feeling so very unwell and a deep sense of self loathing. Why? Why oh why do I do this to my self every time! And now all I feel like doing is eating. I feel like filling the black pit in my stomach with some heavy white bread. To eat and eat until I feel sic, and then I will feel better you see?! You know what I mean, perhaps you don’t. Sitting here at my computer I feel consumed with the desire to go and fill my body with the warm damper that I made for the kids for breakfast. To eat all of what is left. To just sit and consume all of its gluteny poison. To eat until I feel sic. And then I will feel better. Most likely sounds like nonsense, makes complete sense to me.

Yesterday was my grandmothers 79th birthday celebration. All of my family was there. And my mother out did her self with such beautiful, beautiful baked creations for the event. I ate so, so many. My sister and I spent the night before tidying up and completing general preparations for the following day. We wanted some nice photos up of grandma, so we also spent some time sifting through old photos….

Ah memories. Bitter sweet. We found an old one of me. A very fat one. Very fat. I am secretly a closet carb munchin heifer!! At the moment, I’m just a curvy cow. But Oh I have been fat!! Like fat, fat! Like grotesque!

I have never been skinny, but over the years I have fluctuated a lot. Up and down and up again. My heaviest was during some of the darkest times in my life, I would just eat, and eat, until I felt sic, and then I would feel better. Looking at the pictures was weird. I don’t remember looking that huge, but I was, at the time I just felt like me. Just me. I was the same me inside. Or was I? The same me, but one who was just so very said, looking at my eyes in the photo was like I was dead. My eyes, they were just grey and empty. Sad.

Food was my drug of choice, my punishment. I felt so much pain, wanted to feel so much pain. That doesn’t make any sense does it? I wanted to punish myself for being such a failure, its all I deserved, I was a failure as a wife, failure as a house keeper, just one big fat disgusting failure. I did not deserve anything other than punishment.

Such thoughts are just nonsense, but it is honestly how I felt at the time. Do I feel so different now? That was about 4-5 years ago. Lots has changed since then, I have shed a lot of weight. The biggest portion of it was my former husband, I was so much lighter once I was free of him. Lighter in so many ways.

During our separation I was in such emotional turmoil I just naturally lost a lot of weight. That was the catalyst for so many positive changes in my life. When my own life started to settle down the weight started to ever so slowly creep back on. So I got a treadmill and started being careful of what I did eat. For the past few years now though I have just been fluctuating, up and down. It is ever so frustrating.

I just feel desperately pissed off with myself. Why the fuck cant I just get my shit together and be skinny! Oh I mean healthy. Don’t I?! Fuck that! I want to be skinny and thin and toned and have muscles and perfect healthy skin and have men chasing me. Ugh! Don’t I?! Such fucking nonsense!

But I’m just so horrible, I sometimes feel consumed with the desire to just eat and eat until I feel sic. So I do. I’m not going to lie, we went to McDonalds today…. Look it was for the kids ok. I had to eat. Fuck, that’s a lie. When I’m on top of things we don’t eat that shit. Blech. I just felt so shitty today. I was so very disappointed about yesterday, so I needed to be punished. Sounds so stupid. It is.

All men want is the skinny, perfect tanned kinni models they post pictures of on Woman Crush Wednesday. How can any mere mortals ever hope to measure up?! So I think fuck it all, I’m just going to enjoy 2 of these amazing White Chocolate Profiteroles with Lemon Curd Cream that my mother made, that’s I lie, I had more that two, ok! Fuck you! I had 5!! Ugh. Oh the frustration. I’m so very angry with myself. I fucking know better, why oh why do I do this to my self??? Self sabotaging. Why? I know I am worthy! Don’t I?! I’ve been working on all this for months now! Why haven’t I got that shit sorted!!?

There is a fucking reason I do not post full body images of my self, because I’m fucking disgusting. True fucking story. I’m gross. Having children for one, has not been kind to my body. Even if I lost a lot of weight, my body would still be the stretch marked lava lamp it is, it would just be additionaly saggier. No man wants that shit. I don’t want that. My body is a temple, my body is a temple, my body is a fucking temple!!!!!!

So this is where the merry go round begins… I feel shit, I eat shit, I feel sic, I eat more shit. I feel so very unwell. I slap my self, I tell me I’m fucking worthy, get my shit together, eat better, feel better, exercise, feel even better, eat good, I feel well. Remind my self that I am full of light and love, that I am worthy. Keep going. Then something may happen, something will get me unstuck, a trigger, or I will just cave and have one small mouthful of something not good and the whole cycle starts over again. Ever so frustrated with my self.

For me the issue is two fold. An emotional one, as clearly illustrated above. And then a physiological one. Over the years along my journey I have tried very hard to do my best with food. To do lots of research into what is good food and what is not. There are lots of things I have learnt I am at best intolerant to, and some things that are just no good for any body. I am now just trying to do my best, to only put into my body what is good for me, to hold it all together, to keep it all in….. but then sometimes I just let go… I think fuck it all! Its not going to make any difference ill still be disgusting. But of course it does. Make a difference. And so I plough on.

I don’t know what the answer is. There is no magic bullet I suppose. I simply can not give up! So I must keep moving forward. Even if it is two steps forward and one back. In my head I have some bullshit quote, something like small incremental changes over time have a big impact, or some shit like that. I suspect there must be some truth in it. Just keep going, keep reminding my self where I have come from. Keep reminding myself I am worthy and that I deserve all good.

I seem to need constant fucking reminders of this shit!! Ugh! Perhaps one day it will finally settle in my being and I will know. I must keep going. Tomorrow is a new day. What a blessing is that?! What a gift!

Tomorrow is a new day!

DC