What the hell was THAT?!?

…and by “THAT?!?”, I mean the complete and utter binge-fest I had last night.

Guys.  It was bad.  And it was totally unexpected.  Came flying out of nowhere.

I knew exactly what I was going to eat yesterday.  I had my plan well-set, as I do pretty much every day (at least during the week).  I had even logged all of what I intended to eat into Myfitnesspal first thing in the morning, as per usual, because it helps me stick to my plan all day long.  I feel like once I plug it into that on-line diary, it’s the gospel truth.  I have no choice but to abide by what I’ve written.

Here’s what it looked like:

Breakfast – soft-boiled egg with one slice of whole wheat toast & margarine, coffee with low-fat French Vanilla Coffeemate

Morning snack – PC Blue Menu Finesse Yogurt

Lunch – Vanilla Shakeology with 1 Tbsp. PB2 (blended with water & ice)

Afternoon snack – a tangerine

Supper – 2 C. of cream of broccoli soup, 2 Garlic Cheddar biscuits, veggies & hummus, and for dessert an Asian Pear & blueberries mixed in with 1/2 C. cottage cheese, sprinkled with cinnamon (this is my new favourite, I know, sounds gross, but trust me, it’s amazeballs)

And that was it.  This is a typical weekday for me, and normally, it’s more than satisfying.  I feel very good about a day that looks like this.  It keeps me within my allowed calorie intake, and I enjoy everything I’m eating.  I feel like I’m getting “treats”, and yet still, being healthy.  Satisfying.

Except last night, it wasn’t satisfying.  I finished my supper and I was instantly craving something more.

Something bad.

The next thing I knew, I was whirling through my cupboards, Tazmanian-Devil-like, trying to find something that even somewhat resembled junk food.  I don’t keep very much junk on-hand anymore, but I dug out pretty much everything that I could even pretend was junk food: white cheddar rice cakes, salt & vinegar potato thins dipped in onion dip leftover from the shower on Saturday, pretty much all of the Valentine’s chocolates that I had so proudly avoided all weekend long, a bag of leftover jelly beans (from the jelly bean counting contest at the shower), handfuls of mini marshmallows… and then I capped it all of with a big ol’ mug of hot chocolate (topped with even more of those mini marshmallows.)

This all went down within an hour.  One terrible, spiraling-outta-control hour. When it was over, I was full.  Uncomfortably full.  And bewildered.  And disappointed in myself.

And wondering where the hell that came from.

I’m far from perfect.  And there have been binges over the past 13 months.  Far more than I’d ever like to admit.  But I don’t recall one that blindsided me quite like this one did.

Ironically, this came the day after I so “wisely” gave advice to another girl in the accountability/challenge group I’m in on Facebook when she asked for tips on how to deal with stress eating.  I told her to stop herself and ask, “Are you really hungry?”  If you aren’t, try to pinpoint why you want to eat:  anger, stress, frustration, sadness, or just boredom.  Then distract yourself.  Go for a walk, sweep the floors, do laundry, do something.  And if all else fails, guzzle water, make a cup of tea, or chew gum.  All things that I have done to put the brakes on in the past.

I sounded like  a regular old weight-loss article that you’d find in any old health magazine or website.

Last night, I didn’t even pause to think.  I was woofing down everything and anything and couldn’t seem to get a grip.

When it was over, and I was sitting there feeling full, dazed and confused, I belatedly asked myself why I had done it.  I wasn’t angry, or particularly stressed about anything, or sad, or terribly frustrated. 

Which leaves boredom.  Was I bored?  Maybe.  I guess so.  But I didn’t even give myself the opportunity to distract myself, or make myself busy.  I dove in head-first and didn’t pause to think, or give myself a chance to nip it in the bud.

Ladies & gentleman… welcome to the life of a Food Addict.

Just when I think I’ve got this thing all wrapped up & in the bag, I’m reminded that this is never going to be “over”.  I’m never going to be a champ.  I’m never going to conquer this thing 100%.

I’ve said it a million times, and last night was a clear reminder: this is a life-long battle, and I have to be aware of it each and every day if I’m going to keep myself from returning to the junk-lovin’ couch potato sloth.

I don’t expect that this will be the last time I spend the morning after a binge-fest soul-searching, looking for answers, and wondering why I do it.

But all I can do is move forward.  I felt like I needed to get this one off my chest, but the ultimate goal is to put it behind me and start fresh with a clean slate on a new day.  Each morning dawns on another opportunity to get it right.  And so that’s what I’ll do today.

And the good news is, there’s really very little junk left in my cupboards now for me to sabotage myself with. ;)