Off the rails

The Lurong Challenge is just 4 days away. And it cannot. Get. Here. Fast. Enough. For you see, knowing I'm about to start a fairly strict, two month long eating plan has kicked my particular brand of disordered eating into high gear, the past week or so especially.

"Go ahead, eat what you want...BINGE even!" my brain says. "You're about to get super strict and you're going to lose a ton of weight in the next couple months! You know what? If you eat a bunch of crap now you'll be so sick of it you won't even miss it!"

I've know I've used this pic before, but it's never been more appropriate.

Yesterday for example: two chocolate chip cookies with cream filling in the middle and a bagel with butter (a BAGEL, for the love of Gallifrey!) for breakfast. For lunch, a 1/2 sub (a SUB!?! Though to be fair a couple of years ago I would have bought a whole sub, AND ate the whole thing, so there's that...I guess) along with a cup of watermelon and not one, but two (Because king-size dont'cha know) BIG peanut butter cups. And for afternoon snack, what probably amounted to nearly 2 cups of peanut/raisin/m&m trail mix.

Yeah.

So wrappers have been unsuccessfully hidden, receipts thrown away, the credit card used to buy food (if you can call it that) instead of the debit card, because then my husband will see that I stopped somewhere and how much I spent.

Fuck. Me.

I am not a smart woman.

So, naturally by 4:00 yesterday afternoon I felt like shit. But to be honest, I didn't feel too (mentally) low about it, because again, in the back of my mind, I'm thinking, "This is temporary. I'll get my shit together come Monday and all will be fine." Then I made the mistake of talking to my usually wonderfully supportive husband about how I've been eating and how I've made myself sick with it. To make a long story short, we broke the first rule of martial contentment in that only one of us is allowed to be crazy at a time. I'm not saying he was crazy per se, but he was tired mentally and physically and wasn't in the right frame of mind to deal with my neurosis. So instead of feeling supported I felt, really, really judged. And like I have been letting him down by my eating habits lately. Which of course really sent me down the shame spiral.

It got ugly.

Why a picture of a puppy here? Because I just google-imaged the word "ugly." Don't ever do that.

But thank Glassman, I went to Crossfit after work. And I RXed a workout not many people chose to, and I was really proud of my performance. And I remembered who I was. A badass. A BAMF that can accomplish anything she puts her mind too.

Dealing with my ED is not a one time battle, it's a war that will never completely end for the rest of my life, I imagine. The lines of occupation may shift on occasion, but I have the weapons I need to succeed. I just need to keep fighting.

I hesitated to write about this for the same reason that Dave's choice in words hurt me so much yesterday. I have been told by some really awesome people that I am an inspiration to them. So to lose control of myself so badly the past week has me feeling like a fraud and a failure.

Yup.

But then again, I'm not being authentic if I let my blog or my FB page make it seem like this whole eating-right, active lifestyle thing is always easy. Because it's not. We all need to realize that the path to wellness is not a straight line. It's a meandering path. And one that you're occasionally going to lose sight of. But it's up to you to keep your eyes open and realize when you've lost the trail and then do all within your power to get back on it. 

Because you will. And so will I.