Yesterday, I binged.

No breakfast, which is always a bad idea for me.

Lunch was a McDonald’s spicy vegetable sandwich, large fries, and a Sprite Zero.

Dinner was a homemade turkey burger on a wholemeal roll with ketchup and mustard.

Not so bad, right?

Wrong.

Somewhere between lunch and dinner, I binged.

I stopped at Lidl and bought a cheese-topped roll, a cinnamon swirl, and a box of six lemon tarts. I ate them all in my car on the drive home and hid all the evidence.

The problem with hiding the evidence is that the evidence is never hidden. The evidence of every “secret” bag of potato chips, every whole large pepperoni pizza, every bag of gummy bears I’ve ever shoved down my throat while home alone or driving is on display every single day. I’m 5′ 5″ and weigh 287 pounds, so I’m *pretty* sure people might be able to guess that I have a problem with overeating. I might as well walk around with empty food containers taped all over my body. My secret isn’t much of a secret, is it?

My problem with food is limiting my life. I’m worried about my health. My heart literally feels heavy. My back aches all the time. My most recent blood pressure check was high for the first time ever. My digestive system is shot — I think I’ve given myself gastritis from eating junk for the past 33 years. I’m worried about diabetes — had my blood checked in November and everything was normal, but how long will that last if I continue to overeat and fail to exercise?

Aside from the health issues, there’s everything else. I want children, but have none. There’s NO WAY I could carry a baby to full term in my current condition, let alone chase after a toddler a couple of years down the road. I’ve chosen cake over children.

I have to fly with my own seatbelt extension.

My sex life isn’t what I’d like it to be.

I can’t wear the clothes I want to wear.

I can’t do the things I’d like to do. I’d love to ride a rollercoaster, but won’t fit in the seat. I’d love to go to the beach or to a pool, but it’s not a lot of fun when you’re wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt while everyone else is in their swimsuits.

In short, I’d like to be ME. As it is now, I feel like I’m me, but living inside someone else’s body. I’m not living the kind of life I would like to live and it’s a direct result of the choices I have made. Therefore, I have no right to complain about everything that’s wrong in my life unless I’m willing to do some work to make things right.

That’s where this blog comes in.  This is going to be my daily journal.  I’ll write about what I’m feeling, what I’m eating, and whatever else I feel like writing about at the time.  I’ll be 100% honest about what I’m eating, because I have nothing to gain by lying about it.  I’m approaching my problem with food as an addiction, and I’ll be keeping track of my days of “sobriety” (i.e., days I make it through without a binge or eating in secret).  Ultimately, I need to be accountable to myself, but knowing that someone might be reading this can’t hurt!

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