So... I sorta kinda majorly binged today.
It wasn't even just one giant binge, but continuous piling on of calories throughout the entire day in absolutely unnecessary amounts.
I had every intention to keep counting, though, so as to hold myself responsible.
I think the worst thing one does when bingeing is to get that feeling of complete abandon, like the world could end in a fiery blaze and it wouldn't matter, and fuck it, I'm not even counting the calories right now because the balance is so obviously shot to hell.
For me that's always a way to avoid feeling properly horrified, to avoid facing the consequences of my actions - I don't even want to know that devastating number in irrevocable precision; I do not want my head to spin at the exact account of what I have just devoured.
It's like a Lovecraftian Horror - the mere sight of it will make you go insane with frenzied despair.
So, I stop counting during a binge.
But , as we all know , sticking your head into the sand doesn't accomplish anything - I need to face up bravely to what I have done so that I can do better tomorrow.
... yeah, so far for theory.
In praxis, of course, I couldn't handle it.
I did have every intention to, but finally stopped in abject horror when I was starting to inch past 2000 and still could not bring myself to quit.
And so, ladies and gentlemen, the Eldritch Abomination that is my bingeing calorie intake wins again.
Basically, it adds up to me consuming a quantity of food that could have fed a small village of less idiotic individuals. (Much the same as a Cthulhu-ish monster would consume the village itself, ha. Bet that adds up to a lot of calories... not to mention that I totally feel as huge as Cthulhu right now.)
God, I shouldn't be joking about this.
It's gross. Utterly disgusting, despicable gluttony in its purest form, a real proper binge after not even 3 days of moderate restricting.
... which is, yeah, pretty fucking miserable.
I know I need to step away from this kind of behavior if I ever want to stop being cripplingly unhappy with myself again.
Yet I mustn't allow myself to wallow in my failure and be overwhelmed by self-hatred and despair. There's always a chance to do better tomorrow, and I need, no I WILL be focussing myself on that.
As a side effect since starting this blog, I have noticed that the general re-focussing on food avoidance and weightloss has served to pointedly alleviate the acuteness of my depression.
Maybe that's why I'm always happiest when I'm doing this, "getting skinny"... yeah, I know, revolutionary thought, that - the entire calorie-counting game is just something we do to keep our minds off of more unpleasant things anyway, big fucking surprise there.
I'm sorry, I'm a bit of the cheap-mouthed cynic right now due to my own (literally) enormous failure.
I'm feeling deplorably weak; I just wish I was one of these girls that simply don't eat without making a fuss about it, firm resolve and no bitching about the struggle and the slip-ups.
One "nice" thing that I binged on were frozen strawberries though, which was good because a) they barely make a dent in the calorie count obviously and b) sucking on frozen berries on a hot day is one of my favourite pastimes in general.
They also colour your hands a lovely shade of purple/red when you are grabbing them out of a cardboard box one by one, so you can look like you have just committed gruesome slaughter while walking along in the sunshine or sitting down in a park.
Mmpfh, wish I'd stuck to them...
