My own food hell

I’ve spent the last few days being hungry. It’s not because the fridge is empty – it’s full. It isn’t because I’m ill and can’t eat. In fact, I’ve been eating everything in sight. I can’t seem to fill up, no matter what I eat.

It isn’t PMS or pregnancy, either, before one of you comes to that smart-ass conclusion.

I am binge eating.

My brain has flipped a switch telling me that food is scarce, and so I’m eating anything and everything that crosses my path (gotta say, I’m really gonna miss the dog).

But why, THINstapundit? you ask. You’ve been doing so well!

Indeed I have. But the other day, my podcast cohost and I had a conversation about the Whole30 diet detox. Brilliant idea, really, based on the Paleo Plan. Basically, you cut all potentially inflammatory foods (grains, legumes, dairy, sugars, etc) from your diet for 30 days. By slowly reintroducing them at the end, you can pinpoint any foods that may be giving you grief such as gluten intolerance, irritable bowel, acne, or a host of other issues.

Cool, right?

Except psychologically, I’m not equipped to deal with restriction. I have learned over the years that – for me – a diet of everything in moderation works better than fasting or cutting foods out. If I have to cut something, if I’m told “You can’t,” then I freak out. I crave not just that thing, but everything. I feel like there isn’t enough.

My ex-husband, at the bitter end, forbade me all but one meal a day, which was usually just a bowl of white rice. This was because I was worthless. I did not warrant the food, so I wasn’t allowed it. After getting out of that situation, I was in a shelter for four months. Food was scarce. Mondays we starved, because the shelves were bare and the food trucks didn’t come till Tuesdays. Often we stole from the pantry and squirrelled items away in our rooms, under our beds.

Once the ordeal was over, and I had enough to eat, I still struggled with “dieting.” Like I said, anything that restricted what I could or couldn’t eat would set off these psychological alarms in my brain, telling me I had to eat more just to survive.

So although my cohost made the suggestion in good faith, as a way to a) keep her company, and b) meet my #SpaDay2013 goal, I simply had to decline. After all, if just reading about it was making me nuts, what would actually living it do to me?

I only hope I can undo the last 3 days of binge eating.

And the fact that Whole30 eliminates cheese as an option is kind of a dealbreaker, too. Fuck that. Give me nachos, or give me death!

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