Hmmm... Don't take that first compulsive bite is a slogan I hear often but I always wonder... What is the first compulsive bite that leads to the insanity that sucks one into the vortex of destruction... I mean, I do know the actual physical bite that we take compulsively opens the flood gates but doesn't it actually take place in our mind? The sneaky thought slithering in when we aren't in recovery is where it begins. The thought screws w/ my mind because my disease is having a block party. A field day... It is my thoughts that contaminate my brain & I think I can just have a "little this" or a "spoonful of that"... oh, let me just dip my spoon into the jar of PB to be "the first". The first to what? Leave a spoon print. Geez... utter CrAzInEsS!
How many times did I succumb to my disease & take that first compulsive bite. Far too many. After I did, I was off like a drunken sailor on a 3 day leave. I was intoxicated by ingesting whatever it was because I never tasted it once it entered my mouth... I just consumed it. Shoved it in. After the binge, I loathed myself even more. I beat myself up. I abused myself by name calling, degrading & HATING myself -- I was so ashamed. I found my way to the toilet... to purge whatever I could bring up. It incensed me to no end to know it was way pass 20 minutes for me to "get rid of it". It didn't matter because I was in "punish" mode for not being able to have the "willpower" not to give in to that first compulsive bite. Still I violently purged just to release the RAGE that burned w/i.
Eating to soothe my feelings was my M.O. To just numb myself the eff out was all I wanted. Not to deal w/ all the drama... I got lost in books, spent time w/ my animals, wrote, blared music, danced... but I wanted -- needed more -- to block those emotions. I reached for the food to remain anesthetized. I just didn't have the guts to "off" myself. Was too much of a judgemental, snotty, look-down-my-nose @ "those" people who knocked back a cold one, popped pills, screwed their pain away, shot it, snorted it fucking brat! I was on a pedestal 'cause I wasn't a low bottom druggie, drunk, slut... LOSER! Nope, not me. I just ate to deaden the misery. I just purged to release the pent up RAGE bubbling over. I just restricted to fade away. I wasn't like "those" lost souls... wasting space.
I remember all I wanted was to just be left the fuck alone. Wishing people would mind their business. I just wanted to wither away... Shouting, raging, whispering,
"Please God, if you really exist let me just become invisible. Oh, you don't exist... you would answer my prayers. LIAR!!!" I was a total screw up 'cause this wasn't working... the feelings were still there... OK, time to eat/purge/restrict some more... there was a malfunction -- there
had to be because the feelings were now cascading everywhere. No.
No.
NO!!!
What the hell was wrong w/ me? Why wasn't it doing what it used to? Oh, I know why it doesn't work its magic -- 'cause I am a defective, worthless screw up! Little did I know, there wasn't anything wrong w/ me. My disease was just progressing...
I know I gotta adhere to some sort of food plan... eliminate binge/trigger... & "may cause a problem" foods from my life -- just for today. 24 hours...
It isn't cookie 3, cupcake 2, potato chip 9, candy corn 13, licorice 7, french fry 16... It is the first one that sets off the phenomenal craving... the block party in my mouth...
I need structure of some sort, everything doesn't have to be weighed & measured... it just has to be structured in some way...so I don't lose sight. I can't go off track or I'll stray & all hell will break loose! Nope, no flames licking @ my heels... I know what I have to do & if I question... out come the measuring cups & spoons... my eyes are broken & they are my glasses.
