I have lost more weight. And not in a good way. As I was putting on one of my favorite Bebe pencil skirts this morning, I realized that despite the fact that I had just had my size 0 skirt taken in, it was feeling a little loose. I recognized the problem immediately.
I am the inverse of a stress eater, meaning under duress, I lose weight. This happens for two different reasons. First, I become consumed with whatever it is that is causing the stress (usually something I need to finish), and I just forget to eat. I will work on a paper for hours completely neglecting everything else, including my body.
And then the second, most destructive nature comes in. I become so frustrated with the fact that I am stressed I start feeling so overwhelmed and out of control. This makes me need to regain, at the very least, some semblance of control. So I start controlling the minute parts of my life. Inconsequential as they are, they help alleviate the waves of desperation. It starts with the clothes and shoes. Proceeds to the jewelry, the nails, the hair, and all the other little things I can have power over. At the end of the process I look absolutely immaculate (I suppose there are far worse things that can happen). Eventually it gets to food. It always gets to the food. I don’t stop eating. I learned many years ago. But I start monitoring the eating. I start eating healthy, measuring, calculating, poking and prodding. Because I no longer want to control how much I eat, I want to control what I eat. No, that is not it. I want to control. Something. Anything.
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