I binged yesterday.
On crocheting and episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
(OK. Joking about bingeing was probably a mean thing to do to some of you. My food boundaries are intact. You can breathe now.)
It’s funny the way being an addict never leaves me. If I ever get cocky about food and wonder if I could just have a little, just one, just a taste, I would do well to remember that I couldn’t even turn off Netflix. I also crocheted for an extra hour after I said I was going to bed last night.
It’s good though. I am not ashamed of my compulsive side. Not anymore. It doesn’t ruin (or run) my life anymore. It’s just part of the way it is.
One of the biggest problems of compulsive eating was that I resented every other activity. I wanted to be eating all the time. And frankly, I usually was. I often just didn’t do what I was supposed to because I refused to stop eating long enough to sober up from the sugar to do it. And if I did, it was half assed and with bad grace.
Yes, yesterday I put off writing my blog so I could watch one more episode. (OK, one more. Alright just one more.) But I am writing today. I am enjoying it. I can accept that life is not one long Buffy marathon.
I had to learn to make friends with my personality. I had to learn to deal with myself the way I am. I’m a binger. But binge watching TV shows every once in a while doesn’t kill me. Neither does binge crocheting.
Binge eating, of course, was killing me. So I put boundaries around my eating and I keep them there. That was also part of making friends with myself the way I am.
I didn’t have to try to change everything about myself. I just had to figure out what I could do about myself. And then give myself a lot of room to be human.
If I could have made myself into the kind of person who could eat just one, I think I would have jumped on that in a heartbeat. But that never worked for me. So I found a solution and I stick with it. And thank God!
And if I decide to be obsessive compulsive until I get through all 7 seasons and finish my sweater, in between work and meals and blogs and laundry, well so be it. I can live with that.
(And to all of my peers, while I am thoroughly enjoying my nostalgia, if you plan on jumping on the Buffy wagon, be warned: it may make you feel old. And want to go out and buy go go boots.)