I have an eating problem — not a disorder, but it’s still a problem.
I binge eat. I eat when I’m bored. I eat when I’m already full.
I joke about that spring quarter when I got through classes on Ziploc bags of Red Vines. I laugh about how I had to wean myself from polishing off one jumbo-sized bag of Bare Fruit Apple Chips every week or two. (That spree lasted about two to three months earlier this year.)
Last night, I ate straight out of a pint of coffee ice cream when I had already eaten too much pasta for dinner. This led to some of the worst stomach (abdominal?) pain I’ve ever experienced. I laid in bed at 6:30am holding my Kaiser card, wondering if I should call the advice line. I probably got a total of three hours of sleep last night, and I was paranoid, grumpy, and achy all day today.
Ironically, I had been feeling strong yesterday. I did two different workouts and even went out for a brief run. But just because you exercise doesn’t give you permission to eat like a wildebeest.
People assume that petite people like me are healthy. We’re small and seemingly skinny enough. But that doesn’t mean I treat my body well, nor does it mean I can run a mile without stopping or do ten push-ups. (Now that I’ve started lifting light dumbbells, push-ups seem even more difficult!) I’ve been trying to mix up my exercises, but I know I’m still not getting enough cardio, even if I’m carving out muscles I’ve never had before.
I want to say that I’m going to stop snacking altogether now, but I still think about my last Red Vine (I recently picked up the habit again) and my mouth waters. I have little self-control and need to learn how to do right by my body.
I need to learn mindfulness, and this post — for whatever it’s worth — is my one tiny baby step towards that.