Leora Fulvio - Reclaiming Yourself from Binge Eating: A Step-By-Step Guide to Healing

It started with the bread. It always started with the bread.

It was a Wednesday evening after work. Dusk was falling and the city streets were twinkling with that pre-holiday excitement. People were in and out of bars and restaurants, enjoying happy hour, enjoying each other and enjoying their lives.

But not me.

I blended in as I dragged myself home from work just trying to make it through the home stretch to my apartment. The smells from the corner bakery wafted up into my nose triggering intense grumblings from my stomach.

Shut up, you, I grumbled back. Youre too big and fat to complain, get over yourself.

I had worked so hard all day. I just had to get past the bakery without stopping. Other than some wilted lettuce, a six-pack of Diet Coke and about 5 cups of coffee, I hadnt eaten anything at all. I held my breath as I walked past the bakery. I was on an all lettuce and tofu diet for the next 30 days. Bread was out. Cupcakes were out. Even fruit was out. But as I approached the bakery, I saw that they were taking the baguettes out of the oven. I looked away. Stupid bread, with its hard crust on the outside and soft, white, warm evil on the inside. I held my breath and walked right past the bakery.

Back at my apartment, I was greeted by a refrigerator that was mostly empty I usually kept it that way. But I had gone shopping so there were several pouches of firm tofu and a head of lettuce. There was also half a bottle of chardonnay. The tofu seemed unappetizing, and I was absolutely bored of lettuce.

Wine has no carbs, I thought. Maybe Ill just have one glass to help me relax and perhaps sleep so that I dont have to think about food.

I poured myself a glass and settled in front of the television to watch some sitcoms and shake off the day. As I gulped the wine, my stomach grumbled. Shut up, you, I said. I was starving. I sucked down the rest of the bottle and waited for sleep to set in. But drunkenness beat sleep and I stumbled aimlessly down to the corner store. I thought that Id buy a pack of sleeping pills so that I could just pass out and defeat hunger.

Hunger was loud and strong very, very loud. But I knew that if I could beat it tonight, tomorrow would be easier and eventually I would be in control. That was the game that I played with myself, or against myself. My hunger would fight with my self-control and discipline. The problem was, there were no winners in that game. If my self-control won, there I was starving as my body ate itself. If my hunger won, Id find myself stuffed in a corner, surrounded by food as I tried to eat my way out. It didnt really matter who won or who lost. I was losing the battle between a healthy mind and body, and a horrible eating disorder sick body and sick mind.

How many women and men are fighting this battle constantly? We think its a battle of wills, our self-control, our best disciplined self vs. our wild out of control glutton self. But thats not the battle we fight. Those of us who have been living with disordered eating are holding a place for healthy thoughts, bodies and self-esteems to duke it out with this pervasive sickness that seems to be a virus in this society. The There is something very wrong with me virus.

On that particular night, my eating disorder won again. It didnt matter if I chose to go to the store and binge or if I wound up falling asleep into a subtle coma of sleeping pills, wine and hunger; the eating disorder won.

If it hadnt, perhaps I would have broken out of this cycle, this coma, and chosen health. Perhaps I would have put the wine down, prepared a healthy and satisfying meal and gotten over it. But thats not what happened. That night, I walked down to the store, bought a pack of over-the-counter sleeping pills which I took while I was still in the store; I bought another bottle of wine and gave in and grabbed one of those baguettes. I told myself that Id only have one small piece of the bread. But I began eating it in the store as I walked through and ate much more than my allotment of one small piece. Thats it. My night was already ruined. So I went ahead and grabbed a box of pasta, some sauce, brie, and a packet of Oreos. At home, behind closed doors, I drank another glass of wine as I prepared a giant pot of spaghetti. After I finished off a whole box of spaghetti and the warm, crusty bread and the pack of Oreos, I fell into an uncomfortable but deep sleep. I woke up in the morning hungover and hating myself, vowing that today would be different. And the cycle continued. Not every night ended with me bingeing and passing out. There were some nights when Id chase my meals with some ex-lax and wait for the food to pass, and many nights when I didnt eat a thing and passed out hungrily, waking up the next morning feeling empty and proud of myself. That could go on for days. But eventually I would get hungry. This cycle lasted for years longer than I wish it had. Sometimes I mourn for the years I lost to food and food games and wars against my body.