Here's what I mean:
Today I ate a Timbit from a box someone left out as a treat. One of these:
JUST ONE. It was festive, for Halloween, with orange and black sprinkles.
As soon as I finished it, I felt good, like a little bump in my adrenaline. Something inside had been satisfied.
About 5 seconds later though - the feeling was gone. Long gone. And I felt something horrible:
-Anxiety. Deep seeded anxiety, complete with churning and restlessness.
-Panic. What did I do? What the hell was I thinking? I have my amazingly healthy breakfast there waiting for me! I ATE A FUCKING DONUT!?
And then, our dear friend steps into my mind, my fellow Weight-Battling-Compatriots:
Instantly, these are the thoughts I hear:
"You are worthless, and this whole donut thing is a microcasm of what you are as a person - inconsistent, flakey, and a waste. You are wasting your life! You're 27 and you are morbidly obese. You will ALWAYS be morbidly obese! You CHOSE to be in an industry and career of beautiful, thin, talented people, and you are NONE of those, with a bullet. You know how you've felt especially like a big fatty-fat-fat person this past week? IT'S BECAUSE YOU ARE. You are still [insert number here] pounds! DO NOT forget that! So enjoy your donut, Fatty Man, because that's pretty much par for the course with you!"
(that really happened in my head.)
Boom. The aftermath.
Ahh, Jesus, I guess that's right. This is stupid. I should just have another donut, because I know eating food will make me feel better. See above diagram - there's that inital physical gratification. If I keep eating, too, it will elongate the high, and when I'm full and distended, I can at least focus on that physical feeling than my own demons.
The cycle above that I described in the diagram, one that I know all too well from since I was a little child, was back again.
So reach for another Timbit donut....
No way. I did not.
I broke the cycle.
You know, everyone I see has been telling me the noticeable difference in my appearance these past few months. So today, my friend Karly said as much when we spoke, and it was right during my darkest thoughts, and I realized something:
I realized that I work too hard. And proof is there. It's everywhere. And that I love myself too much to choose destruction. I choose Life. And, the most important thing I remembered: YOU ALWAYS HAVE A CHOICE. ALWAYS.
So, I ate my healthy breakfast, which was this:
And guess what? I still got the high I normally do from eating (which I will have to address someday), but no guilt. None. No feelings of self-hatred. None. I chose LIFE, and was rewarded by the benefits of the choice.
So I move forward, armed with this new mentality, and will fight that much harder the next time Mr. Guilt pays me a visit.