Another Romance

TW: Eating Disorder

The moment I wake up, my first thoughts center around the time and if it's time for food. I have to be at work by 7 am, but by 8 am, I am well on my way to slowly enjoying a protein bar and coffee. The protein bar is 170 calories and the coffee with creamer and sugar is 130. Sipping slowly, I savor each bite and sip of coffee, knowing that as soon as the meal is over, I'll be counting down the minutes until lunch.

At 5'3 and 170 pounds, I am obese, fighting every day to lose weight and get food out of my mind. Unlike drug addicts and alcoholics, I can't just stop eating. I almost wish I was struggling with things I could quit cold turkey, but I'm tempted by donuts, McDonald's, chocolate, fried chicken, and so many delicious foods each day, no, each meal. Yearning for a pastry, I groan and try to get excited about my day, imagining seeing my colleagues and hearing the latest gossip, but knowing deep inside that my greatest desire and great love is food.

Cheryl, an all too frequently late colleague, is pulled into the office by the supervisor. Because my cubicle is near the supervisor's office door, I can hear raised voices about “late again” and “emergency” and on a “thin rope.” The discussion seems to go on for a long time, and I'm certain that it's lunchtime by now, but when I finally check my phone, the time reads, “8:37 am.”

Three hours, and 23 minutes until I can eat again.

I bury myself in my work, trying to will the time to pass by.

“Hey, Melissa,” a colleague addresses me. “We're having birthday cake for Stacy at 11:30 am, right before lunch. It'll be in the conference room at the corner. It's red velvet,” she emphasized.

“Oh, too bad I can't make it. Gotta go to lunch early today and run some errands,” I lied, already imagining myself tearing into the red velvet cake. But once I ate a piece of the red velvet cake, then it would be buying a Snickers bar from the vending machine, stopping on the way home from McDonald's for a Quarter Pounder with Cheese, a big fry, and a chocolate shake. And then, I'd have to eat something before bed, maybe some cookies that I'd make sure to run over to 7-Eleven to buy before falling asleep. I mean, if I fall off the wagon and eat something unhealthy, might as well finish the rest of the day with a binge.

And then, I'd wake up feeling awful the next day – and also thinking when it was time to have my next meal. Maybe I didn't have diabetes or a heart attack – yet – but based on my mother and grandmother and their untimely deaths due to food addiction, I was well on my way.

Finally, at noon, I grab my chicken salad with pita bread and yogurt from the fridge and try to make the meal last the full hour. Three hundred calories for the chicken salad, 100 for the pita bread, and eighty for the yogurt, and I'm on my way to relishing it for the entire lunch hour.

“Oh, I think there's more cake at Stacey's cubicle since it was Stacy's birthday today,” another colleague informs me after they enter the lunchroom.

“No thanks,” I say casually. “Plenty of good food here for lunch. Thank you, though.” In reality, though, I am trying to put out of my head that there is leftover cake. I could discreetly cut a giant portion and eat slivers all day. “I just took a tiny piece,” I'd tell colleagues as they'd congratulate me for sticking to my diet and eating smaller portion sizes. But I wanted to give in to my impulses and just eat. Eat everything with cheese, chocolate, sugar, and bread.

“One day, you'll be 40 pounds lighter and a smoke show,” I thought. “It'll get easier – one day.”

Although I was already 30 pounds down lighter, my dreams still consisted of the Hamburglar, Ronald McDonald, Colonel Sanders, Chuckee Cheese, and more, all surrounding me with their signature foods and me, going wild. I didn't have fantasies of men or women, but fantasies of the food I craved, the food I used to binge eat in bed while practically moaning out loud. The fried chicken, the Hershey Chocolate bars, the ham and cheese Lunchables I used to crave and buy in bulk, the strawberry ice cream sandwiches I used to keep stored in my fridge, the Mrs. Fields store I'd hit in the mall to buy brownies, and all the fast food chains I'd frequent on a rotating basis so they wouldn't get to know me. McDonald's, Chick-fil-A, KFC, Subway, Dominoes, Dairy Queen, Arby's, and more. When I thought I couldn't fit any more food in my body, I'd think of the burger from In N Out, and find myself driving there, barely able to make room in my stomach for it, but still eating it regardless while moaning in ecstasy. Some people dream of Fabio, but in my romance novel, I was rolling around with a hot fudge sundae with nuts.

After lunch, I focused on work until work was over at 4:30 pm, and then drove immediately to the gym. There, I walked on the treadmill at a slight incline for half an hour. It was getting easier, but my feet were still sore. That day, it happened to be pizza night at the gym while my mind was screaming “Yes!” I willed myself to walk away, out the front door, and home.

At 5:30 pm, I arrived home and showered, with more pep in my step. Heating a hefty portion of rice and chicken, approximately 500 calories, I slowly ate that along with water and got ready for my dessert, a half bar of Hershey's.

Okay, I know I'm a little bit crazy, but I dressed up in red lingerie before engaging in my favorite part of the deal, the meal where I got to eat something I truly looked forward to. Spending five minutes on each of the six bars, I took half an hour to finish half the Hershey's bar, placing the other six bars in the freezer immediately so I wasn't tempted to eat the entire thing. Engaging in silence, I chewed off pieces of the chocolate bar, letting it melt in my mouth and remembering that I could enjoy food by savoring it and sighing in pleasure.

In my mind, I screamed and yelled that I didn't have a fast metabolism - and I didn't look forward to anything but food. But I kept hoping that I'd improve my health and mindset that it would become easier to eat naturally, and that I would one day find something to replace food: maybe a man, perhaps a hobby, maybe myself.

And I got through another day, white-knuckling it of course, but I still got through another day without eating my weight of a Toyota Tundra.