Stats: 17, female, 5'7, fluctuating from 120-145 lbs IN A SINGLE MONTH
My Binge always starts out with A bite of something forbidden, something off my diet list, colliding with the deep gnawing from having eaten less than 800 calories and exercising like a maniac and downing caffeine like no one’s business for four days.
It’s always four days, give or take, before I break — which I inevitably do. I break because my body is fighting against one of the most pivotal survival urges. I know not to **** with my body’s hunger signals because the binge will inevitably occur, but the problem is that I binge anyways no matter what or how much I eat. I’d rather minimize the damage while I can.
The first bite delivers a jolt of dopamine but it’s never, ever enough. I chew and swallow like a predator going down on its prey, my restriction rules of x number of chews per bite completely wiped from my mind. I eat so fast that when I finish that peanut butter sandwich and realize I didn’t put another two pieces of bread in the toaster my anxiety rises and I blindly grab whatever is near me, nuts, seeds, bananas, whatever. The funniest thing is that my binges are never on unhealthy foods but rather calorie-dense healthy foods, the carbs and fats that I would completely avoid when I was only eating 800 calories of tuna a day.
One sandwich turns into another, a bowl of cereal topped with whole milk becomes eight, three whole bowls of oatmeal down my hatch. My stomach is swollen to the point where my mother comes into the kitchen and exclaims that I’m pregnant. My head pounds and my stomach screams for mercy, the fullness and bloating almost unbearable. I grab three 250 calorie keto bars and scarf them down. I then toast more broad and pour a cup of olive oil on the ten pieces. I eat until I feel sick, I eat until I physically can’t take another bite, wait a couple minutes for the nausea to subside, then eat an entire jar of peanut butter while I’m waiting anxiously for my mashed purple buttery sweet potatoes to toast. I
decide that I’m too impatient and microwave the potatoes for five minutes. Even those five minutes are unbearable as I need more more more food. I grab another jar of peanut butter and dump half of that on two bananas, then decide to make myself a milkshake of whole milk, bananas, and half a jar of peanut butter. I cook meat and eggs with butter and watch my 600 lb life, observing my painfully stretched out belly and conclude that at least I’m not Tammy Slaton. The binge finishes in a stupor, I can’t think being so full, the carbs and fat slowly seeping into my stomach, the irritability and strangely horniness invading my body in full force.
I’ve become a shell of myself since last year. When COVID-19 hit and schools went online, I began to lose my passion, my spark, my liveliness in exchange for a few pounds. Once an avid 15 year old public speaker and reader and student, I’ve lost all interest in school and when B’s used to horrify me it doesn’t matter, my weight is the only thing that matters. Reading articles on ways to shed pounds, researching pills, losing myself in the systematic precise counting of calories (never above 1000!) before almost in autopilot the inevitable 5000 calorie binge happens. The guilt and despair fills my system but the fullness somehow energizes me as I feverishly write down my restriction goals, promising that this will be the last time I ever ever binge, fueled by my fullness and dizziness and hate and the fact that I hate that fullness makes me come alive, I hate it so I try to suppress it back for a week at most and on and on and on and on.
The past month, having becoming more efficient at purging, provided another problem — the binge didn’t matter as long as I was getting the calories up. But I found out horrifyingly that purging made my binging come back with a vengeance and that I would binge and purge thousands of calories a day, to the point where I was gaining more weight than the time where I was simply binging, just because I thought that the purging eradicated the wild binges.
I had a wake up call today, though. Something in me snapped. I don’t want to fight anymore. No more binging and purging, not for me, I simply will eat one meal a day for the rest of my life, never over 1800 calories, exercise fasted chewing the food x amount of times, taking sips of water in between to bloat my stomach, and all will be fine and dandy.
Please, please, please. I'm considering taking Adderall so I can finally never eat again. Please someone help me.
My Binge always starts out with A bite of something forbidden, something off my diet list, colliding with the deep gnawing from having eaten less than 800 calories and exercising like a maniac and downing caffeine like no one’s business for four days.
It’s always four days, give or take, before I break — which I inevitably do. I break because my body is fighting against one of the most pivotal survival urges. I know not to **** with my body’s hunger signals because the binge will inevitably occur, but the problem is that I binge anyways no matter what or how much I eat. I’d rather minimize the damage while I can.
The first bite delivers a jolt of dopamine but it’s never, ever enough. I chew and swallow like a predator going down on its prey, my restriction rules of x number of chews per bite completely wiped from my mind. I eat so fast that when I finish that peanut butter sandwich and realize I didn’t put another two pieces of bread in the toaster my anxiety rises and I blindly grab whatever is near me, nuts, seeds, bananas, whatever. The funniest thing is that my binges are never on unhealthy foods but rather calorie-dense healthy foods, the carbs and fats that I would completely avoid when I was only eating 800 calories of tuna a day.
One sandwich turns into another, a bowl of cereal topped with whole milk becomes eight, three whole bowls of oatmeal down my hatch. My stomach is swollen to the point where my mother comes into the kitchen and exclaims that I’m pregnant. My head pounds and my stomach screams for mercy, the fullness and bloating almost unbearable. I grab three 250 calorie keto bars and scarf them down. I then toast more broad and pour a cup of olive oil on the ten pieces. I eat until I feel sick, I eat until I physically can’t take another bite, wait a couple minutes for the nausea to subside, then eat an entire jar of peanut butter while I’m waiting anxiously for my mashed purple buttery sweet potatoes to toast. I
decide that I’m too impatient and microwave the potatoes for five minutes. Even those five minutes are unbearable as I need more more more food. I grab another jar of peanut butter and dump half of that on two bananas, then decide to make myself a milkshake of whole milk, bananas, and half a jar of peanut butter. I cook meat and eggs with butter and watch my 600 lb life, observing my painfully stretched out belly and conclude that at least I’m not Tammy Slaton. The binge finishes in a stupor, I can’t think being so full, the carbs and fat slowly seeping into my stomach, the irritability and strangely horniness invading my body in full force.
I’ve become a shell of myself since last year. When COVID-19 hit and schools went online, I began to lose my passion, my spark, my liveliness in exchange for a few pounds. Once an avid 15 year old public speaker and reader and student, I’ve lost all interest in school and when B’s used to horrify me it doesn’t matter, my weight is the only thing that matters. Reading articles on ways to shed pounds, researching pills, losing myself in the systematic precise counting of calories (never above 1000!) before almost in autopilot the inevitable 5000 calorie binge happens. The guilt and despair fills my system but the fullness somehow energizes me as I feverishly write down my restriction goals, promising that this will be the last time I ever ever binge, fueled by my fullness and dizziness and hate and the fact that I hate that fullness makes me come alive, I hate it so I try to suppress it back for a week at most and on and on and on and on.
The past month, having becoming more efficient at purging, provided another problem — the binge didn’t matter as long as I was getting the calories up. But I found out horrifyingly that purging made my binging come back with a vengeance and that I would binge and purge thousands of calories a day, to the point where I was gaining more weight than the time where I was simply binging, just because I thought that the purging eradicated the wild binges.
I had a wake up call today, though. Something in me snapped. I don’t want to fight anymore. No more binging and purging, not for me, I simply will eat one meal a day for the rest of my life, never over 1800 calories, exercise fasted chewing the food x amount of times, taking sips of water in between to bloat my stomach, and all will be fine and dandy.
Please, please, please. I'm considering taking Adderall so I can finally never eat again. Please someone help me.
by sarahhhhhhh via Bodybuilding.com Forums - Female Bodybuilding
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