I binged the other day. After 10 months binge free. After thinking I had buried the old me. After thinking I had everything under control. I binged the other day. After 150 pounds of weight loss. I lost control the other day. I do not know what came over me. I didn’t care about my weight loss for 12 solid hours. I ate until I felt like garbage. Then I ate some more. I ate like the 315 pound version of myself, and then some. But instead of giving up this time. Instead of binging today, I rubbed my own shoulder. I patted my own back. And I told myself it’s going to be ok. I am not perfect. I cannot hope and wish and pray that I will never fuck up again. I am owning it. I am moving forward. Instead of falling back into the spiral that I always do, expecting to do the same thing and somehow have a different outcome, something changed in me today. I binged today, on a positive mindset. I ate a healthy dinner today, instead of restricting for 2 days to make up for the extra calories. I binged today, on fresh air when I walked my dog. Not because I felt guilty, but because I love being outside and moving my body. I binged today, by buying a journal for the first time in my adult life. I binged on the feelings I wrote on paper, finally admitting to myself that I am scared. I don’t have this all figured out. And that’s ok.
I binged today, on the relief that comes with knowing that this is the rest of my life. And taking care of myself feels so much better than 10,000 calories of cookies and ice cream ever will.
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