The Darkness of the Holiday...
Has arrived.
It happens every year. I wanted this year to be different. I've tried to prepare for it with much mental coaxing but I find myself slipping down that dark well again. Christmas, the time of year for celebration, fluffy snow, beautiful Christmas trees, festive music...and food. Everywhere you turn its food. Office parties centered around food, family gatherings centered around food, grocery stores with isles bulging with holiday food. Its everywhere.
You can't escape it. I fight the urge to crawl into bed and stay there until its over. Ironically, I love Christmas. Its my favourite time of year and yet its also the time of year when I battle my biggest demon. I started out with three work related Christmas gatherings and have managed to squirm my way out of two. Squirm isn't the right word.
More like a rampage to ensure I didn't have to go. I'm amazed that after all these years I can still pull it off.
Surely I must be very predictable by now. The moment the parties are announced I begin to panic. I agonize over what to wear, spend way too much money and way too much time finding the perfect ensemble to maintain my sanity. I count the fat, calories, carbs of every single morsal that enters my mouth. Its all I think about 24 hours a day.
I'll wake up repeatedly at night and put the dress on, trying to pacify myself that it looks fine. I look fine.
It never works. As the date approaches , my anxiety heightens to a point where I can't cope anymore. Then I sabbatage. Look for excuses, offer alternative and should those tactics not work, I bring out the super weapon.
A giant fight. I did it last night, carefully cultivating the toxic atmosphere, strategizing the big bang. Here it comes..." You can just forget about me going to your Christmas party! AND I won't be going to mine either because of you!" Relief. Instant relief. Its over; the anxiety, the compulsions. Of course I've just created hours/days/weeks of self-inflicted misery with S, but my objective was met. I don't have to go. I don;t have to be afraid anymore; well, at least for today.
Tomorrow it will rear its ugly head. The girls wanted me to make caramel popcorn today and I did. I've eaten the equivelent of perhaps 1/2 a cup and I feel disgusting. I'm not looking forward to Monday because I know I'll be at least 45 minutes late leaving the house due to a mirror crisis. I'll look in the mirror and that 1/2 cup of caramel corn will have morphed itself into a phantom extra 20 pounds on my ass. Everything will look terrible even though in reality its fits the same as it did last week. Reality... Thats the fucked up part. There is a small crevice in my brain that knows exactly whats going on. That part knows its illogical to go from thin to enormous in 8 hours. Its illogical that 1/2 of popcorn is going to make me too fat to leave the house. I know it, I can talk about it, but I can't control it. Its far beyond my own control. The only thing that will end it is 3-4 days of punishment via starving, excessive work outs , emotional berating until somehow, it clicks again and I look in the mirror and am satisfied. Its exhausting, its just so exhausting.
I don't think I'll ever stop. I don't think I can. I've been to eating disorder clinics, I've gone through therapy.
I am not anorexic. I am not bulemic. I'm not a 17 year old coat rack who's vomitting on her lunch break at school. I'm 35 years old, with a healthy body weight of 114 pounds. My BMI is 20 which is in range of normal body weight.
I weight train 4-5 times a week and use hockey as my cardio. I eat, alot. Only difference is my menu is drawn from a list of 10-15 'safe foods' I can't venture away from the safe list or the demons come. Everything is just fine if I stay within my safety zone. Christmas parties and caramel popcorn is not in my safety zone.
Today, I pay pennance for my actions of last night. I feel sad, lonely, isolated, ashamed. Will it be a day, two days or a week before it blows over and life is semi-tranquil once again. I hate to fight. I hate the distance, but apparently, I hate Christmas parties even more
It happens every year. I wanted this year to be different. I've tried to prepare for it with much mental coaxing but I find myself slipping down that dark well again. Christmas, the time of year for celebration, fluffy snow, beautiful Christmas trees, festive music...and food. Everywhere you turn its food. Office parties centered around food, family gatherings centered around food, grocery stores with isles bulging with holiday food. Its everywhere.
You can't escape it. I fight the urge to crawl into bed and stay there until its over. Ironically, I love Christmas. Its my favourite time of year and yet its also the time of year when I battle my biggest demon. I started out with three work related Christmas gatherings and have managed to squirm my way out of two. Squirm isn't the right word.
More like a rampage to ensure I didn't have to go. I'm amazed that after all these years I can still pull it off.
Surely I must be very predictable by now. The moment the parties are announced I begin to panic. I agonize over what to wear, spend way too much money and way too much time finding the perfect ensemble to maintain my sanity. I count the fat, calories, carbs of every single morsal that enters my mouth. Its all I think about 24 hours a day.
I'll wake up repeatedly at night and put the dress on, trying to pacify myself that it looks fine. I look fine.
It never works. As the date approaches , my anxiety heightens to a point where I can't cope anymore. Then I sabbatage. Look for excuses, offer alternative and should those tactics not work, I bring out the super weapon.
A giant fight. I did it last night, carefully cultivating the toxic atmosphere, strategizing the big bang. Here it comes..." You can just forget about me going to your Christmas party! AND I won't be going to mine either because of you!" Relief. Instant relief. Its over; the anxiety, the compulsions. Of course I've just created hours/days/weeks of self-inflicted misery with S, but my objective was met. I don't have to go. I don;t have to be afraid anymore; well, at least for today.
Tomorrow it will rear its ugly head. The girls wanted me to make caramel popcorn today and I did. I've eaten the equivelent of perhaps 1/2 a cup and I feel disgusting. I'm not looking forward to Monday because I know I'll be at least 45 minutes late leaving the house due to a mirror crisis. I'll look in the mirror and that 1/2 cup of caramel corn will have morphed itself into a phantom extra 20 pounds on my ass. Everything will look terrible even though in reality its fits the same as it did last week. Reality... Thats the fucked up part. There is a small crevice in my brain that knows exactly whats going on. That part knows its illogical to go from thin to enormous in 8 hours. Its illogical that 1/2 of popcorn is going to make me too fat to leave the house. I know it, I can talk about it, but I can't control it. Its far beyond my own control. The only thing that will end it is 3-4 days of punishment via starving, excessive work outs , emotional berating until somehow, it clicks again and I look in the mirror and am satisfied. Its exhausting, its just so exhausting.
I don't think I'll ever stop. I don't think I can. I've been to eating disorder clinics, I've gone through therapy.
I am not anorexic. I am not bulemic. I'm not a 17 year old coat rack who's vomitting on her lunch break at school. I'm 35 years old, with a healthy body weight of 114 pounds. My BMI is 20 which is in range of normal body weight.
I weight train 4-5 times a week and use hockey as my cardio. I eat, alot. Only difference is my menu is drawn from a list of 10-15 'safe foods' I can't venture away from the safe list or the demons come. Everything is just fine if I stay within my safety zone. Christmas parties and caramel popcorn is not in my safety zone.
Today, I pay pennance for my actions of last night. I feel sad, lonely, isolated, ashamed. Will it be a day, two days or a week before it blows over and life is semi-tranquil once again. I hate to fight. I hate the distance, but apparently, I hate Christmas parties even more
posted by Sandi at 12:47 PM
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