As a very flaky person, I often go through short phases or experiences, and then I get bored with it and move on. This weekend I had an eating disorder that lasted from Friday to Sunday. Then on Monday night I was cured.
It all started last week. The germination period for my full-blown eating disorder began sometime around Monday or Tuesday. I went to the gym every day, and I made a goal to eat several small meals throughout the day in an effort to lower my body fat. Things went well. I tried to eat something every two hours. A cup of yogurt at 10 a.m., a salad at noon, some pretzels and a V8 juice at 2 p.m., etc.
My metabolism was boosted and by Wednesday I already felt lighter. At the bar (like I'm giving THAT up) I alternated vodka and club soda with bottled water. I drank much less and my bar tab was amazingly manageable.
Something strange started happening to me on Friday. My food portions were so small that I was starving all day. I had plans to visit The Handsome Prince and The Math Whiz at The Vortex that night, so I ate half a baked potato and didn't even eat the skin. I was famished when I showed up to their house, but I refused the pizza they offered.
On Saturday I had an english muffin with vegetarian bacon strips for breakfast and a whole pot of coffee. I might have eaten a tomato slice or two that day. I can't remember if I had anything else until I went to Pony's house for a cookout (after the gym, of course). I ate half a grilled chicken breast without the skin. Then I literally ate a scrap of a hamburger and half a spoon of potato salad that Auburn Pisces couldn't finish.
Sunday was the day I should have checked into the clinic for eating disorders, but instead I continued to obsess about everything I put in my mouth. I had V8 juice for breakfast and drank protein shakes every couple hours. When I met up with friends that night, they ordered artichoke/spinach dip with french bread. I had five morsels of bread and dip and then stupidly drank three or four margaritas. (I never claimed to have common sense, did I?)
Monday I called in sick to work. I don't even want to talk about the way my body reacted to my Karen Carpenter weekend. My self-esteem yesterday was scraping rock bottom. I hated myself, and I had a headache that wouldn't go away even after I ate some egg whites. As I sat on the front porch with Auburn Pisces and someone else (I forget who) and moaned about my pathetic state, her motherly instincts kicked in. She made me a big steak and cauliflower with garlic bread for dinner. Then we watched my favorite movie, Living Out Loud. I sat there feeling satisfied and happy and realized I'd been acting like an idiot for several days.
Today I had a breakfast burrito (sour cream is bad, but I ate it anyway) and then worked out before lunch. Lunch was a healthy salad with grilled chicken. I bought two bananas to eat this afternoon, and I will make sure I eat dinner tonight before I go to CC's.
Actually, this may sound like I'm making fun of eating disorders, but I'm not. To be honest, I can understand how such a disorder would be hard to conquer. I'm sure the number of people who suffer from eating disorders is bigger than we think. I'm just glad that my Attention Deficit Disorder trumps any other. I get too bored to have a full-fledged disorder of any other kind. In fact, I'm bored writing about this now and need to go find something shiny to look at.