I've binged. I didn't know exactly what to call it before. I just thought of it as indulging in what I wanted to eat at the moment. I'd stop at the grocery store and usually pick up salty chips, salsa/guac, sour cream and salsa which was my appetizer. Then some salads from the deli - high fat, high calorie. Then a pint of ice cream and a small cake from the bakery.
I'd think nothing about eating loads of the food. Nothing.
Now I know that it's a binge. I know that these occurred after disappointments, after hard times, when I felt down, to celebrate, basically any excuse. What to know what stopped me? Pete. When Pete moved it it meant that if I wanted to continue this I'd have to share it. not share the food, well that too, but share the fact that I did this. It embarrassed me. So I stopped. Aside from a couple of times,. I've never even looked back on this.
But last night? Last night I would have given anything for a large chocolate cake, a pint of ice cream, salty chips and those high calorie salads. All washed down with a quart of rootbeer. And better yet, all eaten from the comfort of my bed, in the dark, while watching trashy TV from my Tivo. The urge to binge like this was so strong that I mentioned it to Pete. Not that I wanted to binge, not in those terms. When he asked me what I wanted for dinner through my tear stained eyes and cheeks, I said ice cream, chocolate cupcakes and junk food in bed. And bless his heart, he would have indulged me. Only he can't eat all that stuff and we don't have it in the house purposely.
So instead I played with the puppy, blogged, played games on my phone, watched some TV from the living room and just obsessed about it silently. It's a victory that I didn't indulge, but it saddens me that I thought about resorting to this again.