Good morning all,
As you all know, when I was fully in my eating disorder, I would restrict food all week so that on Friday, when I weighed myself, I would get that perfect number that I hoped for. Friday’s were my judgement day.
Following judgement day, came Fat Sundays.
If I would be at that glorified number on Friday, then I would let myself eat Shabbat dinner that night with my family-and I can’t even say I enjoyed eating because it was so ridden with guilt.
The next morning on Saturday, I would go right back to restriction mode because I felt I had to “undo” the damage from Friday night dinner.
If all went well on Saturday and I followed all of Ed’s food rules and kept my calories under a certain number, then it gave me the green light to look forward to my favorite and yet most hated day of the week: Sunday.
I can’t even think of the right words of how to describe the way I viewed Sunday’s when I was living in my eating disorder. Sunday’s were like a small taste of freedom from Ed-they were filled with tiny moments when I would let myself eat foods that were considered dangerous or bad by Ed, and then followed by hours of self torment over why I did it.
For a year and a half, every single Sunday, I would pretty much engage in what to me, felt like binging. I would eat and eat until I was physically in pain, knowing I would restrict again on Monday to fix the damage. I soon became to call Sundays my Fat Sundays.
While I looked forward to that that hour or so of freedom where I would just eat, I dreaded the aftermath of it all.
And truthfully, I was not free in that hour of eating . It is actually during that hour or so of eating that I was more engulfed by my eating disorder than ever before.
It was the morning after Fat Sundays, that I would wake up with my body feeling extremely sore. As my eating disorder progressed, it didn’t take binging to make my body physically sore anymore-now, something as small as even one slice of pizza can cause me to have body swelling and soreness, but that is something that I know will get better as my recovery continues.
I would intensely restrict on Monday’s to make up for Fat Sundays-and because of this and because of my body soreness, I hated Monday’s as well. Every day of my week was somehow affected by my eating disorder.
Sunday and Monday were dedicated to indulging and then fixing Fat Sunday. Tuesday and Wednesday were dedicated to pushing through the hunger. Thursday was dedicated to preparing for judgement day on Friday. Friday was dedicated to determining the success of my entire week and Saturday was dedicated to making up for Friday’s dinner, and then the cycle would continue on.
Writing about that vicious daily cycle right now literally made me relive the feeling of worthlessness that those days brought me. It makes me so sad to think that I let myself feel this way for so long.
Even since I started recovery, and even since I have had this meal plan, Sunday’s are still a taboo day for me. Often times, I notice that I wake up on Sunday morning already feeling anxious, and therefore I let Ed suck me back into that Fat Sunday mentality.
But I am officially declaring today the end of Fat Sundays. Will I still let myself enjoy dinner with my family tonight? Yes. Might I even let myself have something special if I crave it? Yes. But, I will not let Ed tell me to binge and then fix it tomorrow.
I will honor my recovery and most importantly, I will honor myself.
Goodbye to Fat Sundays and goodbye to the feelings of worthlessness it brought me.
Instead, I will start today by saying hello to my recovery, hello to my unbreakable spirit, and of course, “hello life.”