This past week and some has certainly been quite the emotional time for me, both in good and bad ways. Between the revelations from the photo project and the emotional trauma of having to confess a binge to my husband, I’m left feeling a little raw.

I declared ‘house arrest’ on myself – just for today – because I know there are only healthy things for me to eat. As Jenera said, you do so well for an amount of time, and then (if you are a binge eater) this feeling of panic overwhelms you to the point you stop thinking and want to eat everything you can get your hands on. Having healthy food – and only healthy food – at least negates eating too much of the nasty stuff.

‘House arrest’ is probably not the best thing to call it, but I’m basically not going anywhere I may be tempted by less healthy food.

I was upset that I had to do this for myself at first, but as The Bloke stated, at least I am recognizing the need and avoiding temptations.

I’m finding that I’m becoming increasingly frustrated with the lack of books and papers on binge eating disorder. I feel like if I could understand more about the disorder, I could better handle what I go through.

I know it has only somewhat recently been recognized as a mental illness, but surely there should be something. At least one book out there that could help me understand.

If anyone has any recommended reading on the subject, please let me know.

Before I settled down to write this post, I went to the kitchen to take the macadamia nuts out of the oven. I’m making honey-roasted nuts – yet again – because they are usually so time consuming that I don’t even have the sweets craving I’m after by the time I’m done making them, and with mostly honey and good fats (in the nuts) I can halfway convince myself they are an okay treat to have.

I walk into the kitchen and see a mug on the bench: instant soup waiting for the hot water to be poured in. I know instant soups have a heap of salt, so I only allow myself one when it’s really bloody cold (like today) and I have a lot of work to do (like today). The only thing is, for a moment, I don’t remember preparing it.

My memory quickly comes back to me, but that moment wakes me up to the fact that I would have been much better off standing in front of the heater for a few moments rather than drink a cup of vegetable-flavoured salt soup. I wasn’t hungry; I was cold. But I went for food. As always.

This week I decided to start a journal of sorts. I hate food journals and can never keep going with them, so I decided on a journal with a schedule and a ‘rough’ menu to go by. Then the rest of the page is for what I am thinking each night.

I’ve already had amazing epiphanies just being honest with myself, like how I work myself into paranoia about my relationship to self-sabotage when I’ve been doing well with healthy eating. Or how I use food as a ‘barrier’ against my depression.

Or like today with realising that I eat not only when I’m emotional but when I’m physically uncomfortable as well.

I don’t like these truths about myself, but I’m now seeing just how much the odds were stacked against me when I was trying to lose weight without facing the emotional and mental muck that goes along with it. I thought I was, but I didn’t want to get ‘dirty’.

Well, I’m done with ‘clean thinking’ and have found myself to be more ready than I thought for the muck. I’m not looking forward to what else I find, but wow, it feels amazing just to acknowledge myself – for better or worse.