I get angry the minute I wake up every morning.
Most days I wake up feeling bloated from my midnight binging,
and the overflow of shame attached to it.
I end up cancelling lunch and dinner plans with friends because of it.
No matter how hard I try, binging at night is something I can’t stop.
No self-control will do.
(I think) this is because food was the only thing that was always there for me.
Or so I think.
Ever since 10, I binged myself to sleep, and eating was the only time I felt “safe”.
The world was always a place of fear, and food was my armor.
But the problem was that I couldn’t stop.
I never developed the emotional competency to withstand any emotions because I used food to numb it all–the good, the bad, and everything in between.
I learned that just because you go through hard life experiences does not automatically make you strong.
That you need to actually proactively deal with it; and I was doing the opposite, by numbing.
I’ve tried to accept myself for who I am, but to be honest, I don’t really know how that feels like.