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People who don't binge really don't understand what I mean when I say I would "eat for days". I would eat everything I could find in one sitting... whole pizzas, dozens of cookies, sandwiches, chips, and ice cream. I would guzzle soda from liter bottles. Worst of all, I would do this all day and not stop until I was physically ill. I would actually feel "hung-over" the next day. Regardless, I would still eat, and eat, and eat. The eating seemed to help me forget the pain of losing my dad so suddenly. My weight really began to climb. As my weight increased, all those feelings of shame and embarrassment returned. I soon began isolating myself from my friends. By the time I was a senior in college, my loneliness and bingeing were out of control. I would go a few days eating very little and then eat like a starved animal. I would order take out pizza and mozzarella sticks and after picking them up, would swing by Burger King for cheeseburgers. I'd gorge on the way home. At times I would order so much fast food that I would place an order for extra sodas to try and appear like I was getting the food for a family, rather than just me. On my bingeing days I would eat for 4 or 5 hours straight, take a nap, and start eating again as soon as I woke up. I was in massive credit card debt, mostly from my trips to the grocery stores to stock up on food. At this point, the food seemed to be filling my emptiness. I felt like retreating from society. The cycle of shame was overwhelming. Even though I was embarrassed by how I looked, food remained my only friend, so my weight kept climbing. By college graduation, none of my clothes fit. I knew that I had to do something, so I decided to become a vegetarian. I had friends who were vegetarians and they weren't heavy. These friends didn't eat at fast food places and seemed to be a lot healthier than I was. I wanted to be like them. I was desperate and couldn't think of any other way to stop my obsession with food. The problem for me, however, was that I found ways around this as well. I still ate fast food, whole pizzas and boxes of cookies. Being a vegetarian didn't improve my portion control and certainly didn't change the way I felt about myself. As my weight continued to grow, my negative emotions became even more intense. Soon self-loathing and disgust added to my shame and embarrassment. I retreated into my isolated world and would alternate between days of being "good" (which consisted of barely eating), and "bad" (which meant I ate everything in sight). Sure, I tried dieting. I would try whichever quick fix was the newest fad. I always lost weight, but I would always gain it all back. I once mustered up the courage to go to a local "diet center" for help. I figured they could teach me to stop eating so much so that I could finally lose weight. During my initial consultation, I began panicking as the counselor talked about meal substitutes and diet restrictions. She said I could talk to her about my food choices for the one meal I did have. I sat there knowing that I wasn't ready for what she was suggesting. I knew that I couldn't give up meals for supplements, but I was too embarrassed to admit it to her. So, I paid her the $200 "start-up" fee and let her continue developing a plan for me, without any intention of attempting it. I tried to convince myself that since I had just paid for it, I would have to at least start it. I was almost motivated to give it a try when she asked me to step on the scale. I hadn't been on a scale in years. I rarely went to the doctor and when I did, the scales didn't go past 300. I figured I weighed about 350 lbs.. When I stepped on that scale I was horrified. I weighed 420 lbs! I was mortified. I did everything I could not to run out of that building in tears. I hoped the scale was wrong, but I knew it wasn't. I was literally in pain. I couldn't believe I had let myself get that heavy. I left the office and never returned. I may as well have flushed my $200 down the toilet. It would be another three years before I stepped on a scale again. The preceding is an excerpt from "Friendly Mirrors and Contented Closets", a
biographical account written by an actual client/patient with Binge Eating
Disorder. |
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