The Allure of the Binge.
mogletdeluxe
Posts: 623 Member
Disclaimer: hi all. Apologies first and foremost if this is not on the right board and please feel free to relocate as appropriate. I've already posted this as a blog (as it's completely self-centred!), but having read it again think it might be useful to get some insight from other binge-eaters, both current and ex.
Thanks all, apologies in advance for TL;DR post and self-obsession.
Only over the past few months have I been honest enough with myself to say that I’m an ex-binge eater. And that ‘ex’ is only qualified by the fact that I do it far less now, rather than not at all. I’ve lost weight, sure, but I’ve never admitted to my problem with binging. When you drop the B-bomb, I think a lot of people just to the conclusion you’re making reference to bulimia. Because people binge to vomit it all back up, right? And, to add insult to injury, I once looked like the world’s worst bulimic. Possibly one with a spot of amnesia – all of the binge, but none of the purge.
I remember the beginnings of my binge-eating. I was 11, and had started getting the bus to high school as opposed to being dropped off my by Mum. By the time I’d leave for the bus, Mum had left for work and my Dad would still be in bed as he worked night shifts. I never really was a huge breakfast eater. Mum would always give me porridge or cereal when I was younger, and advise me that breakfast was an important meal.
But as I got older, I was making my own breakfast. And as puberty kicked in, an extra 20 minutes in bed and a swift glug of orange juice was the main option. So, one day, I put my glass in the sink and had a bit of a rummage in the fridge for something quick to fill a hole. I rifled through the contents – cheese, vegetables, cold meat, naaaah. And then my eyes fell on the cleaned-out ice cream tub that my Mum kept the chocolate in.
Awww yeeeaaaah. Jackpot. Mum had bought Galaxy Caramels as a treat at the weekend, and one of them had my name on. I reached furtively into the tub and tore off the wrapper.
There it was in all its sweet, creamy, seductive glory. I sank my teeth in, cracking the cold chocolate shell and delving into the caramel centre. Oh God YES. This was so naughty, so illicit!
So far, so fairly typical of your average adolescent. You know, who hasn’t had a sneaky Snickers instead of a bowl of Weetabix and all that. But your average adolescent perhaps does it once in a while, or does it out of laziness rather than compulsion. The next day, I did exactly the same thing. Chocolate for breakfast. And the day after that. And there would be the sneaky Wispa gold from the vending machines in school, too. This went on for a while, once a day taking a chocolate bar from the stash at home.
I can see how this went unnoticed for two reasons: Mum probably assumed I was taking one to school to eat with my lunch, and I was stuffing the wrappers down the side of the sofa (don’t question my 11-year-old logic. It seemed perfectly sensible at the time). Then it would advance to two bars. Deep down, I knew someone would notice how our chocolate supplies were being depleted at a faster rate.
But I still wanted the chocolate more than I was concerned about that, and every morning I would tuck into chocolate bars, watching The Big Breakfast on television in the very same armchair that had a growing collection of wrappers wedged down the side. I would go to the same vending machines in school and perfect a particular button-tapping technique that meant you got two chocolate bars. And rather than being a good friend and sharing the wealth, I’d eat one in public then hurriedly eat the other in the toilets.
My illicit sin, my secret. The deep, yawning chasm of shame being quickly filled with chocolust and sugary goodness, that feeling of a ‘hit’ that I was too young to fully understand. Then it was three bars in the morning, perhaps some biscuits too. And the two-for-ones at lunchtime.
I was still quite sporty, so I wasn’t too concerned about my health. And frankly, if I was, the compulsion was greater than any worries. I was big, but not fat – or not how I perceived fat to be, anyway. I was ‘stocky’, ‘big-boned’. It became a habit. Any concern I had about getting discovered was long overridden by my desire to have that chocolate.
So when my Mum stated that my Dad had found my stash of wrappers, I was surprised at my mortification.
“Nat”, she said, “Dad found a bunch of wrappers down the side of the chair. Do you know how they got there?”
I felt the blush creep up my cheeks like ivy. I might as well have had ‘GUILTY IT WAS ME FATTY-BUM-BUM WHO ATE ALL THE CHOCOLATE BELLY’S GONNA GET YOU” tattooed on my forehead (or perhaps stomach).
“I…they must have fallen down the side” I offered weakly.
And, to my utter relief (and later confusion) she let it drop. And so my habit continued (so it was allowed to continue); and so I got fatter. I’d munch on chocolate digestives in my bedroom and frantically hide them behind the pillow when I heard footsteps on the stairs. I’d hide crisp wrappers inside the pages of my books. And it went unaddressed, and went on and on.
I’ve binged ever since. Any time I was left on my own, I’d sneak food. The thrill of eating that forbidden fruit, that saccharine flood through my body. Never mind the fact that I was in my early 20s and obese, I WANT MY HIT. Never mind the fact that, aged 20, my Mum snatched a bowl of Angel Delight from my hand and shouted “you’re out of control, you’ve got a problem!” Needless to say, I polished off that bowl in my bedroom, despite the tears rolling down my face.
I hated what I saw in the mirror. I hated that podgy face, those dimply thighs, that gargantuan wobbling belly. I knew boys weren’t interested in me because of my weight (because, dare I say it, I’ve got a bloody good personality). I had a bit of a cry to myself the other day when I found a tape I made when I was 12 when I was determined to be a radio DJ, and the cassette opens with “my name’s Natalie, I’m 12 years old. I go to such-and-such high school. My favourite subjects are history and English. I’m blonde with green eyes and I’m really, really fat”. None of these things, none of this unhappiness, could stop me binging.
Have I ever stopped? Not entirely. Two weeks ago, I ate ten custard creams. I mean, why? I exercise bloody hard six days a week, I eat reasonably well, why am I suddenly treating my body with such disrespect? Why, with all my love of Strong Is The New Skinny, am I putting such crap in such large quantities into my mouth? Delicious and vanilla-y as they may be, they’re not going to do anything for the Gina Carano physique that I want. Why can’t I stop at a small portion, why do I have to polish off the packet?
I try and focus on the fact that I’ve made huge progress. A binge ‘every now and then’ is far better than a daily one. And a binge supported by a vigorous exercise routine and sensible eating is certainly better than a life dominated by weight gain and hatred of my reflection.
I try and sadly forget the fact, as well, that my parents turned a blind eye. I relayed this story to my boyfriend recently – he has a ten-year-old daughter – and he was absolutely horrified. I know parenting is a very personal issue, and I love my Mum and late Dad dearly and appreciate that nobody is perfect, but I still feel saddened at the lack of support. Who knows, maybe they were afraid of the extent of the problem. Maybe they thought I was old enough to deal with it myself – was I? I don’t know.
What I do know is that I’m quietly accepting of the fact that I might not be entirely ‘clean’, as it were. You can’t go cold turkey on food, after all. I might not be a fully-fledged ‘ex-binge eater’. I may never get there. But I’ve taken steps to counteract it.
Perhaps I should be grateful for that.
Thanks all, apologies in advance for TL;DR post and self-obsession.
Only over the past few months have I been honest enough with myself to say that I’m an ex-binge eater. And that ‘ex’ is only qualified by the fact that I do it far less now, rather than not at all. I’ve lost weight, sure, but I’ve never admitted to my problem with binging. When you drop the B-bomb, I think a lot of people just to the conclusion you’re making reference to bulimia. Because people binge to vomit it all back up, right? And, to add insult to injury, I once looked like the world’s worst bulimic. Possibly one with a spot of amnesia – all of the binge, but none of the purge.
I remember the beginnings of my binge-eating. I was 11, and had started getting the bus to high school as opposed to being dropped off my by Mum. By the time I’d leave for the bus, Mum had left for work and my Dad would still be in bed as he worked night shifts. I never really was a huge breakfast eater. Mum would always give me porridge or cereal when I was younger, and advise me that breakfast was an important meal.
But as I got older, I was making my own breakfast. And as puberty kicked in, an extra 20 minutes in bed and a swift glug of orange juice was the main option. So, one day, I put my glass in the sink and had a bit of a rummage in the fridge for something quick to fill a hole. I rifled through the contents – cheese, vegetables, cold meat, naaaah. And then my eyes fell on the cleaned-out ice cream tub that my Mum kept the chocolate in.
Awww yeeeaaaah. Jackpot. Mum had bought Galaxy Caramels as a treat at the weekend, and one of them had my name on. I reached furtively into the tub and tore off the wrapper.
There it was in all its sweet, creamy, seductive glory. I sank my teeth in, cracking the cold chocolate shell and delving into the caramel centre. Oh God YES. This was so naughty, so illicit!
So far, so fairly typical of your average adolescent. You know, who hasn’t had a sneaky Snickers instead of a bowl of Weetabix and all that. But your average adolescent perhaps does it once in a while, or does it out of laziness rather than compulsion. The next day, I did exactly the same thing. Chocolate for breakfast. And the day after that. And there would be the sneaky Wispa gold from the vending machines in school, too. This went on for a while, once a day taking a chocolate bar from the stash at home.
I can see how this went unnoticed for two reasons: Mum probably assumed I was taking one to school to eat with my lunch, and I was stuffing the wrappers down the side of the sofa (don’t question my 11-year-old logic. It seemed perfectly sensible at the time). Then it would advance to two bars. Deep down, I knew someone would notice how our chocolate supplies were being depleted at a faster rate.
But I still wanted the chocolate more than I was concerned about that, and every morning I would tuck into chocolate bars, watching The Big Breakfast on television in the very same armchair that had a growing collection of wrappers wedged down the side. I would go to the same vending machines in school and perfect a particular button-tapping technique that meant you got two chocolate bars. And rather than being a good friend and sharing the wealth, I’d eat one in public then hurriedly eat the other in the toilets.
My illicit sin, my secret. The deep, yawning chasm of shame being quickly filled with chocolust and sugary goodness, that feeling of a ‘hit’ that I was too young to fully understand. Then it was three bars in the morning, perhaps some biscuits too. And the two-for-ones at lunchtime.
I was still quite sporty, so I wasn’t too concerned about my health. And frankly, if I was, the compulsion was greater than any worries. I was big, but not fat – or not how I perceived fat to be, anyway. I was ‘stocky’, ‘big-boned’. It became a habit. Any concern I had about getting discovered was long overridden by my desire to have that chocolate.
So when my Mum stated that my Dad had found my stash of wrappers, I was surprised at my mortification.
“Nat”, she said, “Dad found a bunch of wrappers down the side of the chair. Do you know how they got there?”
I felt the blush creep up my cheeks like ivy. I might as well have had ‘GUILTY IT WAS ME FATTY-BUM-BUM WHO ATE ALL THE CHOCOLATE BELLY’S GONNA GET YOU” tattooed on my forehead (or perhaps stomach).
“I…they must have fallen down the side” I offered weakly.
And, to my utter relief (and later confusion) she let it drop. And so my habit continued (so it was allowed to continue); and so I got fatter. I’d munch on chocolate digestives in my bedroom and frantically hide them behind the pillow when I heard footsteps on the stairs. I’d hide crisp wrappers inside the pages of my books. And it went unaddressed, and went on and on.
I’ve binged ever since. Any time I was left on my own, I’d sneak food. The thrill of eating that forbidden fruit, that saccharine flood through my body. Never mind the fact that I was in my early 20s and obese, I WANT MY HIT. Never mind the fact that, aged 20, my Mum snatched a bowl of Angel Delight from my hand and shouted “you’re out of control, you’ve got a problem!” Needless to say, I polished off that bowl in my bedroom, despite the tears rolling down my face.
I hated what I saw in the mirror. I hated that podgy face, those dimply thighs, that gargantuan wobbling belly. I knew boys weren’t interested in me because of my weight (because, dare I say it, I’ve got a bloody good personality). I had a bit of a cry to myself the other day when I found a tape I made when I was 12 when I was determined to be a radio DJ, and the cassette opens with “my name’s Natalie, I’m 12 years old. I go to such-and-such high school. My favourite subjects are history and English. I’m blonde with green eyes and I’m really, really fat”. None of these things, none of this unhappiness, could stop me binging.
Have I ever stopped? Not entirely. Two weeks ago, I ate ten custard creams. I mean, why? I exercise bloody hard six days a week, I eat reasonably well, why am I suddenly treating my body with such disrespect? Why, with all my love of Strong Is The New Skinny, am I putting such crap in such large quantities into my mouth? Delicious and vanilla-y as they may be, they’re not going to do anything for the Gina Carano physique that I want. Why can’t I stop at a small portion, why do I have to polish off the packet?
I try and focus on the fact that I’ve made huge progress. A binge ‘every now and then’ is far better than a daily one. And a binge supported by a vigorous exercise routine and sensible eating is certainly better than a life dominated by weight gain and hatred of my reflection.
I try and sadly forget the fact, as well, that my parents turned a blind eye. I relayed this story to my boyfriend recently – he has a ten-year-old daughter – and he was absolutely horrified. I know parenting is a very personal issue, and I love my Mum and late Dad dearly and appreciate that nobody is perfect, but I still feel saddened at the lack of support. Who knows, maybe they were afraid of the extent of the problem. Maybe they thought I was old enough to deal with it myself – was I? I don’t know.
What I do know is that I’m quietly accepting of the fact that I might not be entirely ‘clean’, as it were. You can’t go cold turkey on food, after all. I might not be a fully-fledged ‘ex-binge eater’. I may never get there. But I’ve taken steps to counteract it.
Perhaps I should be grateful for that.
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Replies
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this made me tear up a bit... felt like i was reading my own life story!!
i was lucky enough to be fairly thin during high school and it was only after that my junk food eating caught up with me.
but now, i eat so bloody well all day, and then i think 'i'll just have one jelly bean..' and 5 minutes later, the packet of jelly beans are gone, so is the ice cream in the fridge, the chocolate, chips, biscuits, then i'm driving to wal-mart to get some more..
and it never ever makes me feel better.. it never makes me feel good, i always swear i wont do it again.. so why do i? why do i do it? why do any of us do it?
it makes me sad. 0 -
I know how that feels. Oh, and although a lot of people relate binges to bulimia, there is another disorder called "binge eating disorder" or BED.
I also binged when I was younger. I had this crazy idea that, after we went to the grocery store, I had to sample every food we bought right then... Somehow I only ever got slightly passed the "normal" BMI category, just teetering on being overweight.
Going vegan made it much easier. There is not as much vegan food to binge on (although it IS still possible.) Things are mostly under control now, but I do still binge occasionally. I'm trying to stop, though. But I really agree with what you said -- it's something I thought about a lot as a child. When you have a problem with food, you can't just quit eating. I think it would be easier to stop binging if I could just give up food all together, but that's not going to happen. Still, it gets better.0 -
Natalie this is so sad. Especially because I recognise it so much.
I'm pretty much where you are now, not as bad as it once was, but definitely not rid of it altogether. Going through 2 bad days at the moment (4 hot cross buns + half a tub of fudge + half a tub of winegums in one go last night - need I say more?) but I know I'll get over it again, just like you are and will be.
I wonder if it'll ever go completely?0 -
This is brilliant. Thank you so much for sharing.
I know how you feel and am actually thinking what great timing this was for me to read today -- after I almost-binged last night. The temptation was there and I went over calories, but somehow I stopped. Food has a really strong hold on me and sometimes I just can't seem to control myself. I'm working on this, and like you, am hoping to someday be officially an ex-binge eater.
Thanks again for this.0 -
My story is similar and I have made the decision to stop eating sugar altogether as of May 1 and all I can think about is what I can eat before then. I know this is a ridiculous response. I know sugar is really bad for me, esp as a diabetic. I know it is not one of the needed food groups and yet I want Nutella and bananas NOW. I know I do better with eliminating this totally like an alcoholic with alcohol.
My one redemption is that there is no chocolate in the house - trust me I looked at 10PM last night and could only find chocolate chips that expired over a year ago. Yes of course I tried them and they were nasty. So my challenge for the day is to stay out of the grocery store. I really want to go and get my fix.
BED is a great label as my binge eating disorder is at it's worse at bedtime.0 -
This is eye-opening because I have realised i'm not a serious binge-eater. My problem has occured through restriction, not through emotional reasons or being overweight. I'm a healthy weight but want to lose some bodyfat to shape-up and as you 'strong is the new skinny' I have tried to take as my new motto. However, I went extremeley low carb at my attempt and it couldn't have gone more wrong. I have been binging 2 days a week and then i'll go back low-carb for 5 days or so(as i feel i should because of excess carbs in binge) and then it happens again - a strong urge to eat anything 'junk' which through-out my life I have never had the desire to do. I used to have such a healthy attitude towards food. :frown:
I hope I can overcome this before it turns into a serious problem!0 -
Thank you so much for this post...0
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Thank you for sharing. I had a similar adolescent occurrence and though I never got passed the slightly overweight category, I sometimes still struggle with portion control. Just last year it wasn't uncommon for me to alternate between soup and brownies (meal/dessert) until I had a stomach ache. And even worse, once the ache subsided, go right back at it. I have a sweet tooth from hell and loovve delicious food. It's a daily battle, but in time I hope my new habits feel more natural and that urge to have a third helping or to completely clean my plate despite being full will fade.0
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Hi all,
Apologies for the delay in replying - I have been away this weekend.
I just wanted to say thank you for such honest, open responses. I admit that the blog/thread kind of came from nowhere - just out of the end of my fingers, bam - and I was a little shocked I had the honesty to admit it to myself. The 'success story' label is a lovely one to wear, but sometimes it feels a little inaccurate - largely when I'm gazing at custard cream crumbs.
Thank you again, it really is appreciated. All the best to all of us xxxxxxxxxxxxx0 -
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Thank you for sharing this.
It is good to let it all out and I think I'll share with you my story.
My brother lead me into such temptations. When my mum and dad were at work, gone from 6am to 7pm during school holidays as well as weekends, we would walk down to town and hit supermarket snack aisle. Bourbons, digestives, mini cheddars,fizzy drinks, pringles, all the things our mum and dad wouldn't have. Other timeswe would just order 2 large pizzas & loads of sides from pizza hut at lunch, then any leftovers I would wrap up in tin foil and keep it in the top of my wardrobe and scoff on when I got home from school. Any wrappers or boxes we had, we would wrap in a black bag and throw in a neighbours bin. This went on for years.
Thankfully I was on the sports team with school, so was training 3/4 times a week so the weight I was putting on I passed off as puberty, my brother wasn't as active as me and he started to pile on the lbs. When he went to uni, he was introduced to the P90X program and is now in the best shape he's ever been. When I went to uni, I stopped exercising, but I still had the odd temptation and binge (I can't even look at my graduation photos as I am at my fattest). I still love the odd pizza from time to time, but it's a treat and not because I'm home alone and I can!!
Thanks again for sharing with us. It's very hard to admit this - I'm sure you can conquer this :-)0 -
Thank you for sharing this.
It is good to let it all out and I think I'll share with you my story.
My brother lead me into such temptations. When my mum and dad were at work, gone from 6am to 7pm during school holidays as well as weekends, we would walk down to town and hit supermarket snack aisle. Bourbons, digestives, mini cheddars,fizzy drinks, pringles, all the things our mum and dad wouldn't have. Other timeswe would just order 2 large pizzas & loads of sides from pizza hut at lunch, then any leftovers I would wrap up in tin foil and keep it in the top of my wardrobe and scoff on when I got home from school. Any wrappers or boxes we had, we would wrap in a black bag and throw in a neighbours bin. This went on for years.
Thankfully I was on the sports team with school, so was training 3/4 times a week so the weight I was putting on I passed off as puberty, my brother wasn't as active as me and he started to pile on the lbs. When he went to uni, he was introduced to the P90X program and is now in the best shape he's ever been. When I went to uni, I stopped exercising, but I still had the odd temptation and binge (I can't even look at my graduation photos as I am at my fattest). I still love the odd pizza from time to time, but it's a treat and not because I'm home alone and I can!!
Thanks again for sharing with us. It's very hard to admit this - I'm sure you can conquer this :-)
Thank YOU for sharing this. It's been heartening, but also quite saddening, to read how many other people have experienced something similar. This is hard to beat, but I don't doubt that it can and will be done.
xxx0 -
Thank you for sharing your story. It's one that is hard to hear being that it is so similar to mine. I spent a lot of time as an adolesent in the bathroom or hiding in my room with a bag of chocolate chips or a box of twinkies. I still to this day binge at least weekly which is much better than before MFP-which was daily. I have this overwhelming feeling when I am alone to eat whatever I can; things that don't even make since put together. Just whatever I can shove into my mouth before someone gets home! It worries me alot that I don't have more control over myself and my actions. Your story showed me that I will get control if I just continue to forge ahead. Thank you!0
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