The bad news is, last night I went through the worst binge yet. It was a true binge; not because I was hungry or lazy. I was depressed. And so I ate for the sake of hating myself. And I ate until it hurt. Three times.
Just as I was on my way to the gym, dragging myself the entire way, my friend "Sa" called me up with a notorious "crisis." I'm a sucker for being needed, so I offered to skip the gym for one day. :::sigh::: This was my mistake.
My first impulse was to bring her the remainder of the pretzel sparklers - 2 whole boxes - that have been sitting in my fridge taunting me, reminding me that nobody loved me enough on 4th of July to ask me out to a party. Damn talking desserts. I'd show them who was boss by feeding them to "Sa."
She, of course, asked me out to dinner, and when I got there, I could tell that this whole thing had been a setup. After last seeing her at Cracker Barrel (where I apparently made a small scene out of being a picky eater), she was watching carefully if I would eat today. So I made a huge deal out of ordering the largest, most fattening thing on the menu, and gobbling the whole thing down. It was the chicken carbonara at Quizno's, which I later discovered (to my dismay) does not have nutritional info posted on the website.
IT HURT SO MUCH. My poor little body was completely empty after the saltwater flush, and I really wanted it to stay that way for a little while. But a strange thing happened. I had suddenly overloaded with probably close to 1500 calories and THE PAIN FELT GOOD.
I have not wanted to hurt myself in a long, long time, but this is not a new feeling.
Out came the pretzels. "Sa" did eat her fair share of them, but when she kindly shut the box, I insisted on keeping going. We got in our cars to drive to her house to tackle her crisis, and in the car, I finished that box. When we got to her house, I opened the next box and we sat down to catch up on some tivo'd tv shows. She might have eaten three pretzels more. And I finished the rest of the box.
It hurt so bad, and felt so good.
The pain was a serious bloat from my pelvis to chest. My entire abdomen was sore to the touch - like I'd just done a billion crunches. But the pain felt good.
When I came home after midnight, my scale looked at me from it's corner, weeping. Only then did it hit me... what have I done?
And it reminded me of that last binge, with the mac & cheese, only FOUR fucking days ago! And how God intervened. Well, I have ignored His intervention, and it has to stop. I have to stop thinking that I am in control, because clearly, I'm not. God is in control, He always has been, and He's proven it to me time and time again.
When will I learn?
And I spotted the haiku that I had written the night before. I read it over again and wept. Then I made a switch.
I have to stop hating myself. I have to allow God to be in control. The entire reason I started this entire fasting process was to grow closer to Him. So far, I've only come closer with bingeing. This is a dangerous thing. This is not what God intended.
If you go back and read the haiku post, I've bolded eight verses. Last night, at 2 in the morning, I printed out these eight verses on a beautiful page, like a prayer. I set it in an old silver frame I have, and it looks really beautiful. Here's a picture:
I ceremoniously put all of my food -- anything solid -- into a pantry box and closed the lid. I set the framed haiku on top of it to stand guard.
This is the good news part. This is my declaration of the beginning of a three-day liquid fast. This is my penitence, my offering to God, for the deadly sin of gluttony I have committed.
I went to bed at 4 am, swearing off all food for the next three days, until Monday morning at 8 am. And this time, it's not about me, it's not about losing weight. It's about sanctifying my body after committing this heinous crime. It's about feeling like I've earned his forgiveness. I mean, I am well aware that forgiveness is given just by asking. I have asked in earnest prayer, and I know if I were to die this second, it is forgiven.
But this is my way of making it stick. This is to help remind me for the next three days that sins are NOT to be purposely committed, taking advantage of the fact that God will forgive us with a single prayer.
I will have to attend church this Sunday morning (instead of Saturday night) because of a work conflict. I'm really kind of looking forward to it. I'm looking forward to sticking to this fast, instead of dreading it. I feel like I've finally begun the track that God sent me here to accomplish, which is to grow closer to Him through fasting and prayer, instead of selfish starving. There is a difference!!!
So I'm starting off simple. All of my weight-loss goals are still in place, and still achievable. I can still feel the pain from last night running through my stomach. I'm sort of hoping that some of that saltwater flush will help it through.
Fourteen hours down, seventy hours to go. Lord, grant me strength to know you more.