Fighting

...hopefully NOT a losing battle.

I'm in full-on binge mode. I can feel it swelling up inside of me. I'm not even hungry but the need to eat and eat and eat is almost overwhelming. Earlier it was just "good" homemade food that I wanted but now I'm in a place psycholigically where it doesn't matter what the fuck it is.

So far I've been okay. I've had a couple of the very small brownies I brought in, and lots of water, and nothing else. But when I go home, there is food. And I'm in a mood where I almost want to make a huge batch of peanut butter cupcakes and then devour all two dozen of them.

I feel like a complete failure admitting this because, although last week's food was bad and couldn't technically be called a "binge" I guess (portion control wasn't TOO bad), I've only been restricting properly for ONE fucking day and I'm already a mess.

Part of me is telling me to just get it out of my system. To eat everything I want tonight, and then throw away EVERYTHING so that the ONLY food left in the house is my aunts'. But I don't want to be a failure before I've even really gotten into it. If I had been restricting and fasting for two weeks, I could understand the need to binge that's welling up inside of me, that's cresting over me like a fucking tsunami. But I haven't. I've had one meal a day for the past two weeks, and that one meal has NOT been restrictive. Somewhere between bingeing and restricting is where I'd been. I want to say "normal" but normal people eat more than once a day, right?

But the fact of the matter is, I've gained weight. I don't know how much but I'm estimating that I have put back on the 5lbs I lost the week before. I am planning to NOT step on the scale until Saturday morning, that hopefully whatever damage was inflicted will be undone by then. Because if I look at the scale and see 200 again I... just have no idea how I'd react. Even when I weighed in at 198 a couple of weeks ago, it was bad but damn it, it was under The Magic Number.

So the huge other side of me is screaming at me not to fuck up. To be GOOD for fucksakes. To understand that my body can not possibly be that hungry and starved of nutrients and calories and shit. And even if it IS, that's just a better oppourtunity to let it burn and enjoy the ride.

I've never felt like this before. I've had my bingey moments, don't get me wrong. But I've never felt it like THIS and I don't know how to react or what to do. I don't want to give in. And if I do, I will feel worse than I do right now. So is it worth it? No, it's not. But I'm sure you out there can appreciate that it's not always up to us what we do and don't eat. And I'm terrified of fucking up, of being unable to get myself under strict control. Why was it so easy before Birthday Madness? That first week back here was so easy. And before all the shittaliciousness that caused me to fall off, back in February, it was so easy.

So why is it so hard right now?

Usually my drive to eat, my inability to reign in the fat monster inside of me, is linked with stress. But I'm not stressed right now!

Since I moved here I never really forged any close friendships except with my ex, who turned out to be a monster douche. Now I've got a really close friendship with S and I love her. My working life is going amazingly well. I just got a raise so I can stop obsessing over my half-year review coming up in six weeks, because obviously my manager is damn happy with me! I'm going on two rock ass vacations before the end of the year. I'll get to see my best friends for the first time in three years, and then laze around in the sun in a four-star hotel on a beach in Cancun. In a few weeks I'm moving to a slightly bigger house in a much nicer neighbourhood - once my trips are paid off I can look into buying some stuff for my room, to make it My Space (not to be confused with the social networking 'site). There isn't a man in my life right now, but for the first time in a while I'm not actually depressed over that fact.

Everything in my life feels like it's slowly starting to fall back into place, that the pieces of the puzzle are slotting themself together and I'm feeling optimistic for the first time since I can't even remember when.

So why do I feel like I'm losing my shit?

It's not just the whole wanting to binge and sabotage myself. I feel like something contained deep down inside is fighting to come out. That its bonds are cracking at the seams and something is going to explode. I feel like I'm going crazy.

Give me strength girls. And thanks for listening.