I'm sorry.

Thank you all for so much support yesterday.
But I didn't do any of you proud.

It was probably the worst migraine I remember having in years. I was too shaky to walk right at work. I kept having to eat, thinking my blood sugar was crashing, and when I tried to lean over to grab something, I wound up on the floor because I felt like the world was moving. I got home and my depth perception went, my speech was slurred, and I remember at some point laying on the floor in the room because everywhere else hurt to be.

And I ate.

Fuck, I broke and I ate. And it didn't HELP. But I kept eating, because I felt like I needed something. Like my body was begging for something.

I stopped counting after 3000 calories, when I broke down sobbing.

The binge ended with plain white rice drenched in salt.
I should have known to go for that first.

My nephew eats it when he feels sick; my sister used to eat it when she would get menstrual migraines or hunger headaches (she was a junkie and had an eating disorder--she doesn't have custody of my nephew anymore--he doesn't even remember her, so when he started craving that without ever knowing his mom used to eat it or that I would eat it, it surprised all of us). It...made the pain so much less. That's what I was looking for. The salt, the carbs, the lack of flavor and just...the pure salt. I used the very thick kosher chunked kosher salt (it's hard for me to eat the regular anymore) and a little bit of sea salt.


I should have reached for it first. I should ahve just gone for it first. Salt always makes me feel better, but I kept thinking, "No, no, I need to cut back, because it makes me puffy."
You know what else makes you puffy?
EATING LIKE A FUCKING PORKER.

I woke up with still the remnants of the migraine, like I do after such bad headaches. My speech finally started working right after I got in to work again. And the shaking stopped.

I haven't eaten anything yet. And I feel like such a fraud. I came in, and my coworker told me, "...did you lose more weight?"
No, I lost the initial bloat from my period.
But I'm so afraid of the scale.


Today is the gym.
Today is back to restricting.
To denying food.
To trying to make myself proud again.

I ate more than 4 days worth of food in the space of three hours.

I have to just let it go. I have to just remember that this is my shame, and it's over now. I can't do it again.
The only thing to do now is to move on.
To work it off.
To start again.

I'm sorry, you guys. I'm sorry I fucked up so badly. My control has been so good lately. I thought I was doing good when I went home to eat instead of going through a fastfood place like I wanted, but I would have been better had I just gotten the fucking grease pit. The only comfort I have is in knowing that my binge was on almonds and soy beans and fiber cereal and healthy things, rather than fat soaked and saturated, artery clogging hand-fulls of preservative filled shit.

I'll do better.
I'll make you all proud again.

I promise.