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ARTS AND CULTURE

Confessions of an overeater

  • 09 April 2014

Overeating for me is worse than having a hangover. I can't just sleep the weight off. Instead I eat throughout the night, taking in even more calories than I do during the day.

How I wish I could shake this bad habit and no longer feel I have to cover my fat with a habit. The more I binge at night the more sick, tired and 'fed up' I get with myself the following day. I feel like a failure. Still it is hard to stop bad habits, to keep myself from slipping further. It only takes one binge to land me in deep depression. 

Having to take medication for schizophrenia greatly increases my appetite. I take Clozaril, an antipsychotic, which as well as stimulating my appetite also heightens the symptoms of OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder). This exacerbates my already existing compulsions with food.

I am a wicked creature of the night. I have never slept well. The more I munch in sinful silence the more I feel as if I am trespassing with the dead. Food did my head in even before I took tablets for my head. I feel myself turning into a beast with a huge midnight feast as I go wild with chocolate, cake and ice-cream. Sometimes I try to limit the feast to just fruit and vegetables, but doing this though requires a lot of forward planning.

I have managed at times to beat the OCD and stop myself dead in my tracks from the bed to the kitchen. This makes me feel powerful and in control. But I obviously have an eating disorder. Even though I have come a long way from my bulimic teens, I still am obsessed, and think I will always be.

Food is a mixed bag of feelings for me. I feel guilt, weakness and remorse, yet also excitement, danger and fun. I'm either really good or really bad with food and often feel more demonic rather than angelic in the dangerous Easter and Christmas periods.

Often I feel my body and mind have been possessed by food. I feel alienated from other people at parties as I go for the smorgasbord rather than the small talk and chomp instead of chat. It is easier to swallow sweet, beautiful, delicious food than take in the negativity that people often dish out for me with my disability.

Sometimes I feel I cannot help myself with food except maybe

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