Back in August, I was in a pretty good place when it comes to exercising and tracking macros. Instead of prepping all of my meals at home and eating super clean all the time, I incorporated the occasional sweet treat and fried food some days of the week – even a Maple Pecan Latte from Starbucks (which tastes amazing btw).
The following month, I went back to my hometown for a weekend. At first, I was doing okay, like eating plenty of vegetables and protein every time I eat out (which was all the time). But then it got to a point where I actually gobbled up a whole tub of ice cream, blended drinks, and local pastries even though I was already very, very full.
The result? Unsurprisingly I got food poisoning and couldn’t work for an entire week after I got back to KL. It was the worst feeling in the world, and it took a toll on my body and mind, especially the latter.
I hated myself for not being able to stop eating, hated myself for not being so weak, hated the way my body looked, hated everything. Even after recovering and returning to my usual routine (tracking macros, strength training, and HIIT), I’m still afraid.
There are moments when I would finish half a bar of chocolate in one sitting, which sent me into a spiral of anxiety and guilt. There are moments when I look into the mirror and felt like a blob even though I had hit a PR for my deadlift or bench press the night before. There are moments when I feel guilty for skipping a workout when I got back late from work.
I know that this is something I need to overcome in order to truly be healthy, but it’s hard. Despite my partner telling me that he loves me no matter what, I struggle to love myself. I struggle to not feel guilty for wanting ice cream or sharing a slice of cake with my family.
I. Am. Struggling.