Binge Journal...Take 1

In an attempt to stop bingeing and to keep myself from overeating I am going to start a "Food Journal" so to speak. 

Its a method that is used by a lot of Coaches to help a person identify what their trigger is for want to binge and help to identify any cycles that cause the desire to binge. 

I know that I am supposed to identify what I'm feeling right now:

• I'm currently with people that aren't "mine". I don't feel emotionally or mentally safe with these people. 
• Food makes me feel safe. 
• I'm bored... but not in a mental sense... in an "I need to do something to keep me busy and create a barrier between myself and these people"
• I still have a couple of hours of my shift left and I don't know what to do with myself to keep myself busy and from saying something totally stupid. 

Not sure if it's a mental thing... but I already feel less hungry.  I did make myself a cup of coffee. Which is more to keep me awake. I tend to get sleepy around this time of day... guess its the hazard of getting up at 4am for work. 

I know that allowing myself to binge never ends well for me. I feel the guilt of it for days and I end up fighting to get back on track for about a week. 

I will say that my bingeing volume has been less than in the past. I think it's because my overall portion sizes are much smaller than they used to be so I don't need as much to feel like it's a binge anymore.

So this is my attempt at a bingeing journal. I will call this a success.. because I haven't binged while typing it. Will this method continue to work for me? We shall see. 

Stay strong and remember to love yourself... if you can't love yourself yet... then try to be kind to yourself!

Something is missing...

I have been looking everywhere for a guide on "How to start lifting for a clueless person who just wants some damn muscles already."

So why not make one? 

I mean. I'm no expert.. but we can learn together right? 

So let's plan. I will start blogging about 3x a week. We will discuss meal prep.. workouts... running... mental health.. and anything else that comes to mind. 

We will see what goes from there. Maybe a vlog or two even? 

Not sure about that one. 

Anywho... 

Enough for now.  Time to brainstorm. 

Toodles 👋 

The "Whys"...

This is going to start out very much like a sad story. And sure, it may be a bit depressing to go back through this in my head but there is a point to it.
I can always remember not liking myself and what I looked like. I can remember looking at myself in the mirror about age 6 or 7 and thinking that there was no way that I looked like that. I was convinced that when I stepped away from the mirror, my face changed and I looked different and that I was beautiful... because for some reason when I looked into the mirror at myself- I didn't think myself beautiful or even pretty...  

Growing up, I was 1 of 3 kids born to a family that really didn't have much. What did that mean? It meant very cheap and unhealthy food for 10 months out of the year.... the other 2 months were when we would gorge ourselves on fresh vegetables from my Grandparents garden and eat ourselves sick of tomato sandwiches, corn on the cob, fresh salad and vegetables. Man I miss those days!

My parents bare no blame for the eating habits because they did the absolute best with what they could. Money wasn't always available so we shopped the discount grocery stores and bought the processed, pre-boxed foods that were a staple in a lot of households during those years. Both of my parents did what they thought was right- they encouraged us to "clean our plates" and "not waste any food". This led me down a path of overeating and over-stuffing myself to the point of being sick.

Eventually, the overeating became the normal. My portion sizes have always been that of an adult (even as a child) and I never really saw any issues with it. I can remember going to my paternal Grandmas house and being told I needed to "lose weight" but then in the next breath I was asked if I was hungry. (She even tried to bribe me with money to lose weight... she made me get on the scale every Sunday after Church... I got 25 cents for every pound I lost. ) Grandma always fed us when we went there. This was her way to tell us she loved us. I learned from a young age that you can tell someone you love them by feeding them. The joke was, it didn't matter if you just ate a 10 course meal... if you come to Grandmas you better eat. She worked hard to make it for you... the least you can do is eat it!

So, I started out eating when I was happy or to make someone else happy. Once my brain started equating food with happiness, I wanted to eat all the time to keep that feeling going. Which led me to eat when I was angry to try to get the euphoria I knew could come with my favorite foods. I was going through a lot of things at home and it created the perfect storm to begin a food addiction. My parents worked hard but it seemed we couldn't ever get ahead and they fought a lot. So what did a stressed out Cassi do? Make something yummy to eat or grab that bag of chips from the pantry (because there was ALWAYS at least ONE bag there) and just indulge.

I knew that I shouldn't eat like that. I mean I did take health class at school. I knew about the food groups and how you should eat more fruits and vegetables instead of potato chips and pizza. But I was at the mercy of a tight budget that couldn't always afford to buy the vegetables from the store and I wasn't in control of what we would buy. (*Random thought* I can remember a routine of sorts that was one of my favorites... while grocery shopping, Mom would buy about 4 different kinds of meat and 2 kinds of cheese from the deli counter and we would get sub buns and an extra bag of chips or two. Then, for dinner? We had sub sandwiches and chips! Thinking back...that was a terrible thing to do!)

I turned on myself a lot. With my already unhealthy opinion of myself I formed a habit of making disparaging comments towards myself on a daily basis. I began to believe that I wasn't worth much.. as a friend..as a daughter.. as a person. To combat this, I turned to my faithful companion... food... and would bask in it. So from the ages of about 12 and on I have battled with my weight. 

My parent's divorced in 1998. I was 15 years old and went through a horrible depression. I ate...and ate...and ate.... I can remember one incident that is very embarrassing but I have to come clean. You know the Mrs T's Pirogi's? The large bag that has about 50 pirogi in it? I was home one day "sick" and ate the ENTIRE bag during the course of the day..... I would boil 10-12 and put them in a bowl with so much butter and salt.... my favorite way to eat them. .

This pattern continued through the years. I would binge eat on garbage food and wonder why I wasn't happy with myself. I didn't do anything remotely active to combat this either. Until I started working at the plastics factory during the summer and sweat my ass off. Literally...I dropped 45 pounds in under 3 months. This is where I say I tricked my husband. He met me at this point in my life. I was thinner and was able to hide the fact of how much I was eating. Shortly after I moved in with him though the secret was out. He wasn't happy with the fact I had gained weight. It caused a few issues for us but thankfully we worked through them because we are still together...almost 18 years later. 

I am a (self diagnosed) food addict. I think about food all the time. I look up recipes and plan menus... make up grocery lists and figure out what we are going to be eating that night for dinner while its still breakfast time. (Yes...I'm that person....) The one unique thing about food addiction is that you have to eat to live. You have to be sure that you don't eat to live though... which is what I have been doing.

Most days I can get through without binge eating my way through it. So I guess I will have to call it a win. Others...like tonight... I want to eat the world.... Literally. I can only hope I make it through it tonight without slipping. 

This doesn't control me... or does it?!

I sit here...dreaming about something deep fried and smothered in cheese.

I cannot allow the food to rule. Do I need it? Hell no... Do I want it? Hell yes! Will I be angry at myself for giving in... without a doubt. Is it worth the anger and frustration of my failure if I give in? Hmmmm....maybe?

In all seriousness, I am sitting here making up orders of stuff I want to eat on my Sheetz app and cringing when I realize that any combination that I choose is almost my ENTIRE calorie allowance for the day. But it all looks and tastes so amazing! Why does all the shit that will kill you taste so good?

I am a food addict. It's pure and simple. I have always turned to food to give myself comfort and solace. This is no different. I feel out of control of things and like I can't stop the spinning. I have always been able to control what I feed my face. I rarely crave sweets... Its usually cheese. Deep friend and smothered in marinara. 

I have to get gas tonight before heading home... Here is my dilemma...Do I go to Sheetz and REFUSE to get the food.... Torture myself the whole 8 minutes it will take to pump the gas... 

Or go home and get gas tomorrow? 

I'm a chicken. I'm getting gas tomorrow. 

I have to admit defeat... and I know if I go to Sheetz I will get that food I crave...and yell at myself the whole way home. 

But will it really hurt me to eat it? 

To my haters...

And yes, I have them. There are 2 in fact that are the loudest.

They don't know that I know they are my haters. But its all visible. I see through the bullshit and to be quite honest? I'm done. You want to beat me but I won't let you.

You are both a mediocre person and cover that up by bitching about everyone else and what they need to do better. It's over. The poison you spew cannot be allowed to continue.

You and your nastiness will no longer be allowed to influence me.

That hurt...and more than just my butt...

Hey all!

I've been MIA in regards to workouts because of several reasons. Mostly though? I have fallen back into old habits again.

I fell off the wagon...and as the title of this blog says, I have hurt more than just my behind.

My pride stings... my body hurts...my brain is foggy... and I don't feel like myself.

I sit here drinking my breakfast shake this morning because I'm back on the wagon. I'm doing what is right for me even if it's hard. Even if I have to drag my self kicking and screaming to do it.

Most of it is because Ohio (after daylight savings time robs us of an hour) during winter is dark so early that I can't get out and walk even if I wanted to. Then, to top it off, I'm now working 7 days a week because I picked up a 2nd job. So I don't even have a day where I'm not working. Yes, totally my fault and I knew what I was getting myself into, but it still is rough to adjust.

My schedule is hectic and most of the problem. With that being said I HAVE to get out of my own head and stop saying how hard it is. Even if I can only get a 15 minute workout in it is better than sitting on my ass. I was doing so good with the plank challenge and then my time just got limited and I felt guilty... which led to not even being able to do it because I was behind... and then I felt even more angry at myself because I missed several days. UGH! I hate having this voice in my head that keeps telling me how much I suck.

So, Day 1 Again... for the umpteenth time...

But I can do this...I can start over. I've done it 100 times.

And I will do it 100 more if I have to!

I fell off and bruised my a...

Okay, so I fell off the horse. Hard.

I didn't post up anything on Facebook about this whole thing but I will go into a bit of detail here. Last week wasn't a fun week at ALL.

The weekend was full of yard work...mulching flower beds, trimming trees, and generally just cleaning up things that were WAY overdue. Saturday (8/25) was a great family day. We bought some new flowers and spent the day doing the yard work together. Saturday night we all fell asleep feeling tired from a good days work.

Sunday morning I woke up around 7am and was starting the day while waiting for the kids to get up. Riley was the first to rise about 9:30 with Owen following about 9:45. Riley was complaining about a stomach ache and said she had some nausea. I gave her some pepto and told her to drink plenty of water . At this point, I was thinking that she was suffering from pre-menstrual upset stomach. (She's really new to her menses and isn't familiar with all the wonders that come with it every month.... I really hope you sense my sarcasm with that statement by the way...) So for the most part throughout the day, she ate a little here and there and would just tell me it wasn't getting any better.

Hubby and I went out and finished what yard work we needed to get done and just had Riley relaxing in the house.

Riley ate a few bites at dinner but by this point in the late evening I could see she really felt a whole lot worse. Then about 9:30pm I noticed she had spiked a fever. Insert Mom-Panic mode here... but I did my best not to freak yet. I gave her 2 ibuprofen to see if it brought down her temp but after 45 minutes and a degree jump... I had her get dressed and I whisked her off to the local ER.

Now, side note... I'm not going to go into the full disclosure of the debacle that ensued... but just know that from around 11:50pm Sunday Night until around 10:45 am Monday Morning, Riley and I had been to 2 hospitals and were getting loaded into an Ambulance for transport to our 3rd...with the diagnosis of Appendicitis.

So, with it all said and done, Riley didn't get to sleep until about 2pm when they put her under general anesthesia to remove her appendix. I was awake a little longer... until about 7pm... and then I crashed til around 10pm when she woke up hungry for the first time after her surgery.

I was blessed enough to be able to take the week off of work to stay with her. Once they diagnosed her with appendicitis, they weren't sure if it had perforated or started to rupture. When they got it out, the area around it was covered in white cells which they thought meant it had perforated. But they couldn't find a site on the appendix that was leaking. Thankfully... it was on the brink of perforation but they got it in the nick of time. Because if it had a site of perforation that meant 3 more days in the hospital on IV antibiotics for her. As it was, she had quite a few restrictions on what she can/can't do.

But I'm back in the saddle... with a severely bruised behind but plenty of determination. The kids start back to school tomorrow for their first day and I go back to work. (Which I've missed...if I'm being honest) So it's a week of fresh starts!

Expect me to start posting my daily walks/exercises again!

XO,
CQ