Weeeell, I’ve slacked off on updating again. Sort of. I suppose one post a week isn’t that bad in itself, it could be once a month, but still, this is annoying. So here’s my little weekly blurb, if only because focusing for some time on this blog does help me keeping things in check.
I must admit I’ve had to do something I didn’t want to do at first: go back to counting all the same. I still don’t want to do it, for the reasons I already mentioned, but it was either that or placing a brand new blindfold over my eyes, so I told myself: screw it. Whether I count or not, the current stressors in my life are not going to go away, and I will still be tempted to overeat. And let me tell you, when I go on auto-pilot in terms of eating, the results aren’t pretty. I am perfectly able to gulp down something like 3,000 calories in one sitting, perhaps even more–I’m not pulling the “oh woe is is me, I’ve eaten two small cookies at 4 pm today, what an awful binge” stunt. When I do it, I do it well, so to say.
And right now, since the past five days, to be more exact, the auto-pilot button has seemed very appealing for me to push it. I’ve been in a frantic mood–pacing back and forth, unable to focus on my work and homework, always fearing that the phone is going to ring and it’ll be bad news. Alright, I’m partly responsible for this, since I was silly enough to go look up medical stuff over the internet, and now I’m freaking out. Silly me, indeed.
Yes. Freaking out. Not for me. For my mother. She’s currently in hospital with a phlebitis, and apparently isn’t due to be out soon. The doctors were trying to find out what the causes could be, and in the process, they discovered other stuff, recquiring them to perform more tests. It’s all very much “what the hell?!” things, too. Like, how come my mother has now emphysema when she didn’t display signs of it nor is a smoker? And why are the docs talking of pericarditis to top things? Why is there a risk that they’ll have to remove a part of her lung? How would she fare during such surgery, given that she’s overweight and not in general physical shape? How much more crap will they find out, anyway?
However.
However, I do not want to let all this stress and worry get me down, cause me to overeat again, find solace in stupid binges. It’s way too easy to grab two slices of bread for breakfast, and then next thing you know, you’ve eaten six. Or ten. Or the whole bread, while we’re at it. Count on the French person to eat bread like there’s no tomorrow. Am I not worth much more than that? And regardless, how the heck would my overeating be supposed to help my mother? Uh-huh. What I thought.
I’ll be honest, I’ve had severe alerts this past week-end, so now I’m doing what it takes to stop this nonsense. Breathing exercises. Counting and noting down what I ear. Very careful planning. Not buying my groceries when I’m hungry. Posting in ‘accountability threads’ on 3FC. Flossing right after dinner. Whatever trick will work, I’ll take it. I bet it’s not the last dark period I go through in my life (unfortunately), and I can’t let stress grind me down, else it’ll never stop.
The good thing is that it’s working. In a way, as much as I hate using such vocabulary, it IS something I can ‘have control upon’, contrary to what’s currently happening to my mother.
The bad thing is that I don’t know for how long it’ll be working. ‘Forever’ is a vain hope, I suppose.
No matter what, I know I have to do it, at least until this particular stressor is out of the way. Because the other alternative is a gloomy one, and I don’t want to go that way. And I also doubt my mother wants to see a 20-pounds heavier Kery with a bloated face and chocolate stains on her pants when I can finally visit her next week-end.
Speaking of which, I am NOT bringing her chocolates. I find it very insulting to bring fattening food to a person, no matter her age or weight, who is clearly incapacitated in a hospital bed. Is there anyone else here who’s also feeling that way?
