The Binge Monster

As you may have ascertained from my constant stream of negativity and lack of yoga-mentioning, my self control has been pretty shit lately. It's horrifying, really. I am up some pounds, and down some joy. I am not a happy camper. I am a camper who realizes they're 80 miles from civilization with no cell service and they forgot the beer and the bong and a pillow. And clothes. And sanity.

The root of my problem is any combination of the following: 1) I have serious emotional issues 2) I lost a lot of weight really quickly, and my brain and self-perception didn't adjust 3) My goal is now within reach and that terrifies me 4) I'm worried about gaining all the weight back anyway 5) I'm fucking lazy as fuck 6) I now want perfection which I know is impossible and if I'm not perfect I'd prefer to be a shit-show 7) I know being healthy makes me happier so clearly I just don't want to be happy 8) I don't feel comfortable in my skin 9) I hate everything 10) It's all your fault anyway.

A few weeks ago I bought "The Willpower Instinct" by Kelly McGonigal (PHD!) in hopes of fixing whatever the fuck is wrong with me with a little self-help. It's a good book, so far....you know, 20 pages in. See, I don't even have the willpower to commit to READING the book, so it's a bitch of a Catch-22. ("Bitch" was a typo from "bit" that I chose to leave because hilarious.)

In the beginning of the book, McGonigal suggests you give names to the different parts of your personality that pull you in different directions. Like "the obsessor" for the part of me that fixates on the tiniest things, or "the planner" for the part of me that loves lists and schedules and plans and gets very irritated when things are not set.

The part of me that needs the most work, I have named The Binge Monster.

The Binge Monster is my nemesis.

The Binger Monster wants food, in vast quantities, in short periods of time. The Binge Monster thinks any negative emotion can be erased with calories, and any positive one can be enhanced, despite a decade of evidence to the contrary. The Binge Monster is not swayed by logic, in fact, the Binge Monster is skilled at rationalizing the most fucked up things, like eating an entire roll of cookie dough in twelve hours. ("Well, I haven't binged on cookie dough yet, so obviously I will eventually, so I might as well do it now...") The Binge Monster is smarter than you...or at least, a better manipulator.

The Binge Monster makes you act like a crazy person. The Binge Monster tells you to order two sodas at the drive-through so the bespectacled teenage worker doesn't think all this food is for you. The Binge Monster thinks everyone is staring at you when you go to the work kitchen for another piece of chocolate. The Binge Monster forces you to eat so fast, so mindlessly, that you barely even taste anything. The Binge Monster mocks you, yells at you, punishes you, even as it forces you to do its bidding.

The Binge Monster is not concerned with your goals or dreams. The Binge Monster don't give a single fuuuck. You have no control over the Binge Monster, none at all. The Binge Monster operates on auto-pilot, and ignores any communication from your heart or your mind or your soul. The Binge Monster starts a cycle of self-destruction, and hides the key up its own ass. The Binge Monster hates you and everything that makes you happy.

The Binge Monster is a motherfucking bitch.

If you are not emotional eater, I truly envy you. The helplessness, the self-loathing, the fear that comes with being completely out of control with something as simple as feeding yourself is heartbreaking, not to mention humiliating. I've been writing this post for two weeks, and it was incredibly hard to put these words down, and it honestly terrifies me a bit to post it. But I will.

I was doing so well for so long, and now have been doing so poorly for so long. I'm so incredibly frustrated with myself, but it's just not as simple as we'd all like it to be. I can't just stop, I can't just be better. It's been said before that food addiction is one of the hardest to deal with --- you can avoid alcohol, or heroin, or sex, but you can't avoid food. And believe me, I have tried.

I'll dig myself out of this, I always do. But I feel such panic when I consider dealing with these kinds of issues the rest of my life. Obviously I need to figure out the true cause and trigger of my self-destructive behaviors, but alas I did not come with a "crazy bitch" manual. All I can do is press on, try my best, and live my life according to the brilliant philosophy of Dory.