The OREO biscuit in bondage-Binge eating story

The OREO biscuit in bondage-Binge eating story

I'm eating Oreo cookies covered in white chocolate. I take 1 piece out of the package and set the other aside. I surprise myself at this lightness, as it wasn't always like this. As I chew on the sweet treat, my stomach lurches and a memorable binge eating that I experienced during a 6-day fishing trip. It's worth telling because most of my clients experience similar emotions. But to make you understand better, I'll tell you about my situation at the time.

The ominous binge eating it hit me when I was in France with my partner, on a week-long fishing trip. It was a stressful situation for me anyway, as it's a huge challenge for me to camp and catch fish. It's not my thing. At this point I was very close to my target weight, every morning I would stand on the scales trembling to see if I had started with a 7. If I remember correctly 1500 calories for some time now, which is very little for my activity level and abilities. Of course I wasn't impressed, I just had the goal in mind...

Before the trip I had planned everything carefully, I mean obviously I just wanted my food to be good and proper. I bought all kinds of protein-enriched shelf-stable ultra-processed crap, inedible protein pancakes, fruit, canned tuna. I calculated my rations and was so proud of how well I could prepare even for a fishing trip!

At the time, I was absolutely determined to get the 10 fucking thousand steps. When we camped the first day, I obviously didn't walk much because of the travel. This was completely unacceptable, so I started marching around the lake. I counted my steps, checking my phone at every lap to see if I'd made the 10 K. Seriously, I hated doing the laps, it was embarrassing to have others see my embarrassing walking from the outside. I kept getting caught in branches, dodging puddles, I just hated it all. I was just waiting for the 10,000 steps and then I was good for the day. I can pat myself on the back, bravo, you did it! You burned the calories.

So I was already in a bad mood on the first day, the whole situation, the stagnation of my weight, the location was stressful. Of course the gloomy October slimy snot weather didn't add to the experience. What kept me going was that I would soon be able to step on the scales and finally start with a 7.

The days went by, the third day was very cold, I was in a very bad mood, I was cold, I was suffering, I was nervous and I could only lie down. But at least I kept to my diet so nicely that my hat's off to you. Because 1500 calories is 1500 calories, not 1600. Let's not kid ourselves, these kinds of transgressions are for weak people. It was already evening, another bad day had passed, my partner had gone to take a shower and I was meditating in the tent alone, next to the heater.

I was so cold, I can still remember the feeling of the cold running through my bones. I tried to stretch my legs towards the heater to warm up a bit. I felt terrible, even though the only problem I had in life was that the scale didn't start with a 7. I spied an Oreo covered in unwrapped white chocolate. My partner only ate one of them, they come in a double wrapper.

I quickly took my eyes off it, knowing that I had already consumed my calories for the day. A voice in my head said: once you start, you can never stop. The nutritional content, the caloric value, the sugar content of the sinfully tempting poison spun before my eyes. I swallowed hard and remembered myself, finally looking slim. Then came the breathing exercises, the butterfly hug... Regardless, I was in terrible pain, so tempted by the Oreo, I was in physical pain, specifically, that I had to resist. After more than 5 minutes of very serious grinding, I quickly took it and bit into it. I enjoyed the way the chocolate cracked on the outside and the crunch of the cookie.

In the cold tent, in the overcast weather, in the middle of my fucked-up mood, it was like a glass of water in the desert. Seriously, that Oreo was the best food in the world at the time. It just transported me to another world. As the sweet taste spilled out of my mouth, I felt instant bliss, something was happening! Something was so good. When the conscious rush was over, I unwrapped the other packet and stuffed it in my mouth. I completely lost control. I felt like I wasn't stuffing the biscuit into me, but a force outside of me. I had the presence of mind to peek out of the tent so my partner wouldn't see what I was doing. I ate so fast I couldn't taste it so much, the tension building up inside me, so I wouldn't get caught.

I opened the second packet, then the third, then the fourth, and ate faster and faster to finish it before he got back. I was wondering what I'd guess where the Oreo had gone. Apparently I gave it to a homeless person in the middle of the woods... After the 5th pack of Oreos I started to recover, and guilt stabbed me with a cruel dagger. What did I do? I started to come to my senses, and what had been a sweet, ideal taste became increasingly bitter in my mouth. I felt nauseous, I mean it, I felt a level of guilt that I couldn't handle.

I felt that I had ruined my whole diet, that I would never reach my goal, that I was a weak piece of shit with no willpower. I stood up and paced back and forth in front of the tent, because I couldn't decide whether to throw up or go for a run at 10pm.

I just felt that I wanted to come clean, that what I had done was unacceptable and morally outrageous. I had an inner tension that I couldn't release for a long time. I started crying out of helplessness, which was good, it let the valve out a little. In the meantime I logically thought, okay, it's done, I can always compensate tomorrow.

I end up taking in about 1,000 extra calories, then I eat 200 less every day and walk 5,000 steps more, and I'm done. This theory was a great comfort to me. I had a feeling that tomorrow I would be strong and I would make everything right. I was already escaping the present, and I could see my slim body in my mind's eye, and I started to feel much better. I was proud that I could do the math so well and fix what I had messed up. I went to bed relatively satisfied, but the next day was crueler than this story..

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