Wait a sec... Denial isn't a river in Egypt. For real? Seriously?! Shit. LOL. Well, I know one thing for sure, I can't work on my disease if I am unable to accept that I not only have the disease of compulsive overeating but the umbrella effects of the COE. Anorexia & Bulimia. I have the ABC's & need to toss in the denial that my disease is gone. Nope... it is doing boot camp workouts to knock me on my ass the minute I "forget" I have this disease. The moment I slip into denial, it is going to slam me a good one a'la De la Hoya w/ a dash of Ali (Laila).
Denial... may have been useful when it served to protect me when I needed it to cope but now it just is a psychological symptom of my addiction. Step 1 We admitted that we were powerless over food - that our lives had become unmanageable. I was in denial for so long that I was "powerless" over food. I mean, come on... powerless over an M&M... powerless over freshly baked chocolate chip cookies... powerless over warm bread straight from the oven gimme~a~ break... I didn't want to see this, hear this or live it. Hell NO! It was demoralizing to know a cookie could bring me to my knees... or a macaroon could make me insane. Toss things around when I couldn't eat it. I remember this time last year consumming Devil Dogs. The anger, humiliation, pain & shame I felt from stuffing them in. Just ingesting them w/o tasting them. I was in denial to the fact that a box was simply not enough. I had to have the family size. I had to go to bed w/ a twin pack every night like an alcoholic has a nightcap, a coke head snorts a line & a gambler tosses the dice. I was a bottom binger, sugared out, strung out... A hung over addict. Who made promises that this would end. These crazy behaviors would stop but they progressed because I was in denial. I just didn't want to see this was me... I don't want to be this way.
Denial... may have been useful when it served to protect me when I needed it to cope but now it just is a psychological symptom of my addiction. Step 1 We admitted that we were powerless over food - that our lives had become unmanageable. I was in denial for so long that I was "powerless" over food. I mean, come on... powerless over an M&M... powerless over freshly baked chocolate chip cookies... powerless over warm bread straight from the oven gimme~a~ break... I didn't want to see this, hear this or live it. Hell NO! It was demoralizing to know a cookie could bring me to my knees... or a macaroon could make me insane. Toss things around when I couldn't eat it. I remember this time last year consumming Devil Dogs. The anger, humiliation, pain & shame I felt from stuffing them in. Just ingesting them w/o tasting them. I was in denial to the fact that a box was simply not enough. I had to have the family size. I had to go to bed w/ a twin pack every night like an alcoholic has a nightcap, a coke head snorts a line & a gambler tosses the dice. I was a bottom binger, sugared out, strung out... A hung over addict. Who made promises that this would end. These crazy behaviors would stop but they progressed because I was in denial. I just didn't want to see this was me... I don't want to be this way.
I DON'T WANT TO BE A COMPULSIVE OVEREATER. I DON'T WANT TO BE ANOREXIC OR BULIMIC. I LOATHE IT! I DETEST THE FACT THAT I HAVE THIS FUCKING DISEASE. I AM FUCKING PISSED I AM NOT ABLE TO EAT WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT WHEN I WANT TO. I HATE NOT BEING ABLE TO HAVE ONE FRENCH FRY, A FEW CANDY CORN AND WHATEVER THE HELL I WANT WHEN I WANT IT!!! IF I "PRETEND" I AM "CURED" I CAN INDULGE AND FALL BACK INTO THE GRIP OF DEATH AS I TUMBLE INTO THE VORTEX OF HELL STRAIGHT THROUGH THE GATES OF HELL!!! DENIAL IS WHAT MADE ME RELAPSE AGAIN. AND AGAIN. AND AGAIN. FOR GOD'S SAKES... I WALKED IN @ 16... WHY IS IT I AM COMING ONTO 6 MONTHS OF RECOVERY AFTER A 6 YEAR RELAPSE? BECAUSE I THOUGHT I "FINALLY" GOT IT -- THE PRIZE. NOPE, JUST MORE DISEASE ROTTING MY BRAIN. LOWER SELF-ESTEEM, SELF-HATRED, RAGE, HEARTACHE... A SLOW AGONIZING DEATH... NAH, AN ACCELERATED ONE. DENIAL IT ROBBED ME OF 6 YEARS AS I STUFFED MYSELF BECAUSE I WAS SO WOUNDED INSIDE.
My denial is bringing tears to my eyes. I think it is a blend of heartache, humiliation, rage, sadness and shame. When I "pretended" I was PMS-ing to explain my binges, the drier was the reason my clothes shrunk, I bought the wrong "size", ripped out the tags w/ my size, squeezed into undies that were too small, pretended something fit when it didn't... pretended I didn't eat when I did... Said I did when I didn't, pretended I got sick to explain my purging...
Pretended I was pregnant not to deal w/ the fact I was F.A.T. :O)...
Withdrawing because I was in denial that this death vise was destroying my life as it was strangling me...
Denial... I still dip my feet into the shark & gator infested denial swamp because my disease shouts, "go ahead this time will be different" Denial... is NOT a river in Egypt but will most definitely mummify me if I continue to succumb to it.
My denial is bringing tears to my eyes. I think it is a blend of heartache, humiliation, rage, sadness and shame. When I "pretended" I was PMS-ing to explain my binges, the drier was the reason my clothes shrunk, I bought the wrong "size", ripped out the tags w/ my size, squeezed into undies that were too small, pretended something fit when it didn't... pretended I didn't eat when I did... Said I did when I didn't, pretended I got sick to explain my purging...
Pretended I was pregnant not to deal w/ the fact I was F.A.T. :O)...
Withdrawing because I was in denial that this death vise was destroying my life as it was strangling me...
Denial... I still dip my feet into the shark & gator infested denial swamp because my disease shouts, "go ahead this time will be different" Denial... is NOT a river in Egypt but will most definitely mummify me if I continue to succumb to it.
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