3 days without bingeing! The temptation hasn't even been strong. I've stuck to my "fist plan" of eating (eating roughly the amount of the size of a fist every three hours without worrying too much about fat or calorie content) with no deviations. Seems easy right now. I love this feeling and I live in fear of the next downward spiral. Just taking a nibble of something at an unappointed time is all it might take. I hate having to be that rigid, but it's just how I'm made. I'm an all or nothing girl!

I went on a huge $500 grocery shopping trip this morning and bought a bunch of foods that could potentially be triggers e.g. oreos, baked goods, sesame sticks, cheezits etc, but they were too good of a bargain to pass up. If only I can actually delight my family by feeding them fun foods from a box, instead of scarfing them all down myself in private...

I have alot of mental angst over my weight today. I was 120.0 I've promised myself I'll never get to the teens, but I found myself contemplating not drinking or anything for a few hours, so the next time I went to the bathroom I could strip down, weigh myself and see that 119 number. I decided that was ridiculous and went right ahead and had my coffee. I secretly hope I will be 119 tomorrow, but hope I will not get discouraged if I'm higher. I've said 121 was my floor. Just like I don't let myself buy clothes that are size 0 or 1. That works for me. I was hoping 121 would be the same thing. My nice, safe and healthy size 2. I don't want to be brittle and frail looking. I want to be a healthy and strong, energetic wife and mother. Its so hard to judge how your own body looks. I am fully aware "frail and brittle" will be adjectives that describe me before I notice it myself. Been there, done that. And I've been 178 after months of bingeing and gaining. Been there, done that too. The emotional struggle follows me whatever the weight is, but it sure is alot easier to fit into clothes when I'm on the smaller side.

Today was good. The kids were tricky, and I had a teacher request a chat with me because the 10 year old is not completing his homework...but I didn't have a single urge to binge. The only time I felt upset in the slightest is this evening. I baked something for my husband to bring to work tomorrow, and the ratio of chocolate to peanut butter doesn't seem quite right. I am so mad at myself. They don't look as scrumptious as I had hoped and I want his buddies at work to be bedazzled by their beauty and their tastiness. I am embarassed. I am annoyed with myself. I know in the morning when I go to put them in the tupperware box I am going to be tempted to eat the scraps to hide the evidence of my "less than perfect" creation. If I eat the scraps I will get a sugar high and want to consume everything in sight. My day will be ruined before breakfast has even been served. I know. I know. Stop baking. But I love it. I love cooking. I wish I knew if my desire to create and cook so much was related to my eating disorder, or totally unrelated.

Splatters on the Wall

Today my oldest turned 10. He had a wonderful day. Our family had a wonderful weekend celebrating. Life is good. We are all healthy, my husband has a fabulous job, and I weigh around 121. I have nothing to complain about. Yet the brownies called me. I woke up and they were my first thought. I binged on them at 4:45 in the morning before my morning treadmill time. I could only complete a few moments on the treadmill before the nausea overtook me and I had to stop and purge. I do not fear getting fat again. I fear feeling so sick I am unable to take care of all my family. So I purged, got ready for the day and vowed I would never succumb to a binge again. 8 hours later I was cleaning up from lunch and saw trigger foods on the counter. It tempted me and I binged again. My husband was outside working in the yard, my two younger children were happily playing and I was stuffing my face with all the unhealthy food I could find. My eyes constantly vigilent to make sure no one walked in on me. Tonight I was tired from the sugar hangover, nausea was beginning and I knew I needed to rid my stomach of the excess food or I might wake up extremely sick tomorrow. I did. My husband was at Bible Study, my two older children were playing a board game, and my two younger boys were tucked into bed. I purged again. Two times in one day. Something I have never done before, something I was horrified to realize, and something that has driven me to begin this blog in an attempt to organize my thoughts and give me an outlet. No one around me knows this is my secret. As I brushed my teeth in the beautiful master bathroom we waited and saved a decade to build, my eyes were caught by a splatter of vomit that had landed on the wall by the toilet. Embarassment overwhelmed me. I started doing this when I was 16 and I am now 33. 17 years of this? Time to move on. I've been saying that for 16 years, but sending my words and thoughts out into the world certainly gives a validity different than my previous commitments! I think I will leave those splatters on the wall to remind me of how pitiful it can be if I don't find healthier outlets.