Tag Archives: binge eating

Slow and Steady in 2014

WordPress have been sending me emails reminding (pushing?) me to renew my subscription, and I’ve been tossing up whether or not to keep blogging, but have decided, yup, another year of regular written self-reflection is a good idea. I do this for me, and sometimes other people chime in and that’s fine.

New Year was spent down the coast with lovely people, good food, swimming, chilling out, doing crosswords. It was really relaxing and there was none of the pressure I’ve felt previously to ‘do something big’ for New Year’s eve.  I appreciated the beauty of where I was and the blessings of the wonderful people around me.

I made two resolutions about food/ eating, trying to keep them small and manageable, not be overwhelmed by eating disorder or negative voice thoughts like ‘lose half my body weight’.  They are

1) Aim to eat breakfast every day and

2) Store and eat food in the kitchen, not in my room.

The second one is definitely harder. I’ve got a tendency to hoard food and binge on it in private. It’s something I’ve done since I was ten years old, scared, finding comfort in food and solitude. It’s a dodgy justification/ denial mechanism,  ‘if nobody else can see it’s not happening’. I also have a whole lot of shame tied up in eating or feeding myself, I don’t feel I deserve to eat things…so this is trying to chip away at that, even a little bit of progress is better than none.

The breakfast eating…I can do it, and I’ve done it before, but I really have to push myself. Much easier to roll over in bed and sleep the extra 15 minutes, or say ‘I’m not hungry’ or whatever. There is something psychologically helpful in eating at least one  ‘set’ meal in a day though, and getting it over and done with. At the moment I’m doing instant oats and yoghurt, and struggling, but just gotta Keep. On. Going.

From Monday onwards I’ll be back into the job application routine, and hopefully getting responses/ interviews. I’ve been taking driving lessons more intensively over the holidays and feeling slightly less terrified. I suspect it- driving, job hunting- will take longer than I’d like though, and I just have to accept that. I don’t normally ‘do’ horoscopes but yesterday’s one in the Age felt fitting:

What this year has to teach you is deep. And wonderful. And can’t be rushed. You’ll meet your demons face to face and learn to handle them with grace. Your key operating strategy is pace, not race. As in slowing down and finding the right timing. Recommended reading is Aesop’s fable to the tortoise and the hare.

Going slowly is not my favourite thing, nor am I great at waiting or accepting things gracefully. But I can handle a challenge or ten, and if that’s what this year has in store, then bring it on. Slowly.

Slow and steady...

Slow and steady…


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Well Hello, September

So, it’s been a while since I wrote. Things have happened. People have come and gone. I’m almost through my final placement, therefore almost a Fully Fledged Social Worker (TM). I’m shit scared, feel like I don’t know anything, hate that feeling. I must know everything and have all the answers ready all the time must be perfect always…Oh hey, Negative Voice. I’m actually going really well in the placement and hitting all the benchmarks easily and getting really good feedback from clients and co-workers and teachers, and part of me knows this- a small part of me, somewhere inside me- and the rest of me is like oh fuck maybe today will be the day when they all realise I’m a massive fuck up and they’re going to kick me out. 

Whooo! Anxiety! Fun times!

And I eat and eat and eat and make myself sick and wipe my face down with acidic toner that stings as it mixes with my tears. I say, no never again, never again, and within hours I’m there, but not really there, floating outside myself, watching myself as I do it all over again. Again.  And I wake up crying in the middle of the night, can’t breathe, my chest is tight. And the hours pass and the light comes through the window and (most days) I force myself out of bed to keep up the act.

How are you going?, they ask, not really wanting to know.  Tired, I say. Always tired.

It’s not all bad. If I can manage to stop and breathe, I realise that I am OK. The world is not as bad as my head would have me believe, am not as bad as she would have me belive. Things are getting done. Friendships are being nourished, plans are being made, the degree is so close to completion I can almost touch it.

Just gotta keep going.


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