Oh goodness, what a week.

So I haven't been really forefront yet with the insane amount of self-hatred I have for my fat, or the overall dismal state of my body image. Well, it's terrible. That's how I'll start.

It DOES NOT MATTER how good I feel when I exercise and eat well, how great it is knowing I've run farther than I ever have before, I will still regress whenever I am suffering from extra stress, uncertainty or severe self-criticism.

I am a perfectionist. When I do something, I fucking do it right, damn it. My father was the same way, which is why he put me on a diet when I was 7 years old. My entire family was thin and athletic and he wanted, no NEEDED me to be the same. I was ruining his image of his perfect suburban family. Never mind the fact that I was freakishly tall for my age by 10 (nearly 5'7" in fifth grade) and that I played three or four sports (baseball, soccer, ice hockey and lacrosse), I was NOT thin enough. Thus began my vicious cycle of forbidding food and binging.

Let's take this week for example. I opted not to weigh in today despite an above average week. I ran three times and did Pilates three times. I ate well and cooked for myself almost every night. Then yesterday I began to have stomach cramps, very unusual for me when I'm eating well and mistook them for period pains as it is almost time for that lovely thing to visit and began eating with reckless abandon. This happened to me last month also and I survived it fairly well, except this time they were phantom pains. 24 hours later and I STILL haven't gotten the flow. Last night was horrible, however, and I wrote down what I ate in the course of three hours:

6 0z. steak
6 0z. chicken
baked potato, extra sour cream
broccoli

Not bad so far, right? Ok, here we go.

3 O'Charley's rolls
1 sleeve Thin Mints
McDonalds grilled chicken sandwich
medium french fries
large strawberry shake
large glass of milk
Snickers bar

and last, but not least, 2 large glasses of Baileys Mint Chocolate Irish Creme, so I could pass out and STOP EATING.

It may not seem like a lot, but it really did all happen in three hours. Then I woke up today, did not have my period, did not go run off the calories and had pizza for dinner. Awesome. I went to my Weight Watchers meeting, but thought I might cry in front of the sweet reception lady at the scale or even worse, my over the top leader, who might shout "What did you do wrong this week? Do you have any questions about the program you would like to discuss?!" so loud that everyone in line would hear. Whenever she does this I want to say, "Listen, bitch, I've been studying nutrition labels for 17 YEARS and probably know a hell of a lot more about nutrition than you do. I only eat organic fruits and vegetables and I have ridiculously low cholesterol because I haven't eaten red meat in years. I have been on Jenny Craig, Adkins (horrible for you, never do it), South Beach, plain old calorie counting, I was a vegetarian for five years and this is my THIRD TIME doing WW, but yes, I'm sure there is SOMETHING you probably need to explain to me about the program, because OBVIOUSLY I'm not doing it right."

God. Sorry about that. I just hate when people assume that it should be easy for me to stop my binge eating, or that knowing it's bad should somehow guilt me into not doing it. Sometimes I think the pressure to be PERFECT with my diet overwhelms me and I just snap. Like last night. Actually, I know that's what it is. There are days when I feel physically and mentally EXHAUSTED. And man, if there's a donut within fifteen feet of me, I'm probably going to eat it.

*sigh*