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unruly neurons

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So this morning I had an amazing therapy session. I told my therapist about my latest blog and how I had yearned for a “good” binge. I asked her if that meant there was something wrong with me, like there was a problem I wasn’t dealing with and I wanted to eat my feelings instead.

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She told me at this point in my life, I had blurred the lines of my negative “coping” skills. I might have been feeling restless or a bit stress, but wanting to binge probably didn’t mean anything. I probably just wanted a little comfort. Which is stupid, because I don’t receive — and haven’t received — comfort from a binge in a looooong time. It’s just the memory of comfort and good feelings from binges that came before that keeps me doing it again and again. Well, not lately. I haven’t binged in a while. But that’s what I was doing — I was chasing a good feeling that would rarely or never come.

Then we talked about what else is comforting (besides eating and shopping). I said reading but told my therapist I’m more of a instant gratification girl (hence the eating and spending money), so reading isn’t always a safe bet. She mentioned that I need to get used to constant gratification instead of instant. That I need to appreciate the little things and even everything out. Reading would be good. Working out would be good. Writing blogs and columns — also good. She’s right. I don’t have to be all about instant gratification because the problem with that is that you get so high from the reward and then shoot back down fast. I’m tired of being down.

I’m excited about working out again. I’m going to approach it in baby steps by walking on the treadmill for about 20-30 minutes. I know I need to work on toning too since I’ve lost so much weight, but the treadmill it is until I’m ready to move on. I’m also excited about wearing workout clothes however stupid you might think that is. And I’m excited about adding new music to my workout playlist. That always motivates me when I hear new music.

I also decided that I need to work on a daily schedule. School is starting soon so it’s the perfect time to create one to make sure I have structure, which will help with discipline and my goals. Do you have any helpful tips on creating a daily schedule? Leave them in the comments!

I feel so much better today, friends. Even if I feel I want to binge, I know now that I have self-control and it only means I’m either hungry or I need some self-care or a hug. I can handle all that.

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It’s All So Pretty

by Heather Loeb
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It is no secret that I like nice things. The problem is that I like them a little too much and compulsively shop until I get in trouble. Shopping has been one of those things I do (like binge eat) when I get depressed or upset, so my new therapist and I have been talking about it. She kept asking why do you need all those things when you already have enough? And do I do it to impress people or try to be someone I’m not…?

I can’t answer her. I don’t know why I buy expensive jewelry, shoes and purses. I’m not trying to impress anybody! My therapist and I discussed it some more and finally we decided that it doesn’t matter what the root of the action is, I just have to find something healthy to replace it. Or else.

That was last week. Then today, after taking pictures with my family after my daughter’s award ceremony, I went home and looked at the photos. I was mortified. I looked so awful. My skirt was awkward and wrinked, my shirt was awful and my hair looked like crap. As soon as I could, I climbed out of those clothes and threw them in the donate bin.

“I looked fat and ugly,” I told my friend later. She told me I was not, but when we stopped texting I couldn’t stop thinking about how gross I looked. I actually changed clothes after that 4 times. I just gave up, threw on a dress and chalked it up to it being a “blah” day.

Tonight I was sitting in a support group when somebody was talking about lessening your load. He said that everybody has a backpack and rocks that make it heavy, but you don’t have to carry such a heavy load. Well as he was talking I thought about my “backpac”k – then I thought, “Ha, mine would be a designer purse.” Then I looked down at my big new bag David bought me, which was at my feet. I then glanced at my feet, adorned with new Gucci slides that cost a small fortune. Then my glance fell on my dress, which was about $300. I asked myself why I needed all that, then thought “But it’s so pretty.”

I tuned out the speaker, and it was like sirens in my head.

I buy those things because I think they’re pretty and I’m so ugly and fat.

Could it be that simple though?

I’ve been obsessed with how I look, especially what I weigh, for decades. About the same amount of time I started buying all these “pretty things.”

I’ve had a breast reduction, a tummy tuck and gastric sleeve surgery. I also have a formidable eating disorder. I’m now 75-pounds lighter than my highest weight. I’m a SIZE 6 and haven’t been in a single digit size since I was 6 years old. Still I hate my photos. I know deep in my heart that I will never be thin enough to assuage my fears of not being good enough.

For the 2,341st time, when is enough enough?

I know that I’m not really fat and ugly. Sometimes I know that I’m thin. Logically, I know I’m not fat and ugly, but it’s like I have blinders on. I’ve said over and over that I don’t want Isla to ever go through this, shouldn’t that should prompt me to say that I love my body no matter what.? And actually believe it? To tell myself I’m beautiful no matter what. That it doesn’t matter what I weight or look like at all.

But it would be lies. All lies. And how sad for my daughter who I’m trying to break this generational cycle of self-hatred for when I can’t even look at a picture of myself without throwing my clothes away. And deleting pictures of me with my family. I tell my daughter that she’s beautiful and that it doesn’t matter how much she weighs or what she looks like.

It does matter to me. Because the truth is I don’t think I’m good enough despite my accomplishments. Despite people telling me I am good enough, thin enough, pretty enough.

I’d like to say this situation will prompt me to turn over a leaf, but it won’t. I’ll tell myself that I love my body and how I look and that I’m good enough — the whole nine yards.

At least while my daughter is listening.

And until she hears and believes me, I’ll keep writing check after check to my therapist.

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