Ever since the day I started seeing a number on the scale that I really didn't like I started to quietly deteste myself for letting it all come this far. Just two years ago, I had it all: a healthy weight, a nice future lined up in Ghent and I was living on my own for the first time. I told myself this would be my second chance at happiness in college. A new me and a whole new way of life.
With just two hours of class a day I figured it'd be easy to go for a run daily. But that was not the case. For some reason, I stopped running fairly early on and only ran sporadically after that. I didn't exactly overeat, since I haven't touched a burger or fries in nearly 4 years. So it puzzled me how some of my clothes started to became a bit cramped. I cleverly avoided this problem by simply buying new and better ones. I guess we all fool ourselves some way, don't we?
When my prom arrived, I found myself unable to fit into the suit I wore the year before. I panicked and immediatly started a crashdiet. I went for a run twice a day, each time passing my pain limit just a bit further. I only drank water and ate plenty of fruit. Luckily, by week's end I was able to fit into my tux once more. But somewhere in the back of my mind a voice was saying: "watch out, you're going to let it slip away." I quieted the voice and resumed my life.
With the exams coming up, I found myself becoming addicted to energy drinks. I started six months ago when I was studying for Statistics. I was unable to concentrate so I went out and bought three cans of Red Bull. I opened one and slowly sipped at it for about an hour. Meanwhile I was busy studying. But the Red Bull gave me such an incredible edge that I couldn't help but wonder: "Was Red Bull the savior for students in need?" With the June exams I bought a whole lot more and drank one or two daily. Not knowing or not caring that they were actually pure sugar, wrapped in candy, covered in delicious sweetness.
Weeks went by and by the time the Summer began I had gained even more weight. But the stress of my vacation job and my re-examinations caused me to start stress-eating and continue gulping down that delicious energy drink. August was my last chance at losing some weight before I left for a week in Spain. This meant seven days of walking around in a swimsuit, by a pool, surrounded by thin(ner) people. Or as I like to call it: Hell in disguise.
I managed to lose some weight, but it wasn't enough and with the change of scenery (moving from Ghent to Brussels) I completely let myself go. I shamelessly ate whatever I wanted and drank what I wanted. It didn't seem to matter much anymore. I figured that there was nothing left to do. I slaved for a year to lose 20 kilos and within that same timespan, it all went away. I felt miserable and the self-loathing took on the most grotesque form of all: binge eating. Whenever I looked down at my gut, I felt bad. So bad that I had to still my thoughts by eating something.
It's funny how our mind works. The more you want something, the more your mind pushes you to do the complete opposite. When you really want to buy something, your mind starts to wonder if it's worth the money or what good it'll do. It rarily agrees with you and aids you in your quest for your desires.
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