It was a Monday about 3 years ago. I had a super depressed day, spent all day in bed on Saturday. Did some crying, felt like I wanted to disconnect from everyone in my life. I thought, “After my husband goes to work is the perfect time to hang myself. I’ll have all day to die, to be without oxygen, without interruption.” Sunday I actually got out of the house and enjoyed myself with said husband. Monday I woke up earlier than normal, 6:30 a.m. almost on the dot. I couldn’t go back to sleep because I had something on my mind. Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. I had a stash of them in my office and the plan was to put the last two 8-packs (yes, 8) in the freezer because they taste delicious that way. I had been binge eating. And my binge-eating food of choice was candy. I had already eaten 2 8-packs and several mini Almond Joys that came in a variety pack that I bought. Off of Amazon Prime. That’s embarrassing.
Who buys their food to binge for same-day delivery? And to pay the service fee and then the driver tip on top of loads of candy, which weren’t cheap, when I was already needing to save money. It was all around a stupid choice. But binge-eating is one of my self-sabotaging ways of dealing with my anxiety. Other times it’s not adhering to my medicine prescriptions, other times it’s living outside of my values. My coping mechanisms are very immature and not conducive with what I want my life to look like. To look like? What do I want my life to be? Not full of lies and deception. And that’s where I was at with my life.
I went into my office to get the candy, then walked back to the kitchen to put it in the freezer. At no point in time had suicide crossed my mind. It did Sunday night and I responded to myself, “I’ll wait to see how I feel tomorrow.” Just like that. Just so matter of fact. So, hello Monday. I just have candy on my mind. I went and layed back in bed but noticed someone staring at me from just outside the bedroom door: it was my dog, Rowdy. I picked him up and put him in the bed with me, a HUGE NO-NO in our house. But that’s partially why I did it. I wanted to lay with my dog and I wasn’t even caring about the “house rules.” Even with Rowdy with me, I couldn’t go back to sleep. I got up, picked up Rowdy and let him outside. I started the Keurig and went to put my contacts in and take my carefully concocted pill martini. I was planning to work as normal. I went to the freezer knowing the Reese’s Cups would barely be cold but just had the strongest desire to stuff my face. I ate 4 Reese’s cups, just one right after another like they were nothing. The guilt of the binge set in immediately. I was obviously hiding this secret from everyone, including my husband. Mondays are trash days, so my guilt led me to put the uneaten candy and all of the stashed empty wrappers in a garbage bag and take it out front to the trash can.
I’ve since struggled with binging but not to the extreme like I was during that time period. I stopped hoarding Reese’s Cups and I obviously didn’t kill myself. All because of my dog.
