I’m sat looking at the empty plate, regretting every mouthful I ate. Wishing I could just take it all back out.
I’d not eaten in over 24 hours and my stomach got the better of me. But now I’m sat wanting nothing more than to put my fingers down my throat. But I can’t escape from this corporate event. I’m stuck here struggling to make small talk because all I can hear is her voice inside screaming at me to get it out.
Why is it that 4 little numbers can have such an impact on our emotions and mindsets? 0.3 of a kg or more is all it takes to throw me over the edge. Standing on the scales 6,7,8,9 times a day, feeling worse and worse every time.
Even when the number goes down, i look in the mirror and feel no smaller. I set a weight target but every time i hit it, my target just gets lower. Will there ever be a point at which i'm happy?
My self-worth should not be defined by the number on a scale, so why is it? Why do I tell myself I don’t deserve to eat if I slipped up even just a little bit? Whose opinion is it that really matters?
About 5/6 weeks ago, I’d managed to find myself in a happy place mentally. Something had clicked (as it always does a few weeks out from a champs) and I realised under fuelling/starving myself wasn’t helping my deficiencies. I’m currently deficient in iron, vitamin D and magnesium. That paired with my MS fatigue meant I was more miserable than normal because I was constantly fatigued and feeling unable to train, sessions where going ok but some we had to skip.
The most important thing for me is my performance and I’d began to worry that feeling how I was, I wasn’t going to perform well.
I opted to fuel better so I could do better and slightly more training. So, I was having 2 meals a day and snacks around training and then morning turbo and core circuit to offset the extra calories. I still can’t get out of the habit of intermittent fasting, so I very rarely eat breakfast. I’m a super late brunch kinda girl and then a small evening meal.
I believe I was fuelling better than I had done all year and feeling slightly better.
I'd even begun to try find my social life back. I used to avoid meeting with friends, so afraid that i'd have to eat or drink anything other than water. So the best option for me was to stay home alone.
The last few months i'd began to feel better within myself. I started opting for brunch dates with my friends because i'd started to feel like i was pushing my friends away and lose myself in a lonely place i didn't like. Brunch at a place of my choice i could control and fasting after made me feel like i hadn't lost control but could still enjoy the small things in life.
That crashed and burned after only a few weeks. Unfortunately, my house got broke into and my car got stolen leaving me feeling stressed and scared whenever I was in the house. I was barely sleeping, constantly over thinking. Feeling overwhelmed with prepping for worlds while so many things weren’t going to plan. I turned to the only thing I know how to control and that makes me feel better briefly.
One evening of “ok treat yourself it’s been a tough few days”, turned into stuffing my face with everything and anything sweet I could. Then I get hit by the overwhelming feeling of guilt and realisation that I could put on weight from what I’d eaten. Followed by the inevitable vomiting. Then comes the 24 hours+ water fast. The hunger pangs come, and I tell myself I don’t deserve to eat because of the binges. I’m TOO FAT. I’m going to look MASSIVE in my kit lined up next to all these girls that actually look like athletes. I WON’T WIN if I’m this HEAVY. But the cycle just restarts when I binge again because the number on the scale isn’t what I want, the numbers on the track are slow or just because I’m so drained, all I want to reach for is something sweet. But it’s NEVER just a few.
Knowing and understanding you have such a negative relationship with food is one thing. However, suppressing the voice in your head that only sees the negative and reminds you that your weight isn’t right, is another thing.
I’m learning to try find the old me, start to love me and work out the root cause of my problems. One of the exercises I’ve tried is about controlling the controllable. But the only thing I currently know how to control, is what goes in and what comes back out my mouth. There lays my problem…
