The Day I Gave In : A Binge Eating Confession


I woke up that morning with the best intentions. 

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I had my meals planned, my water bottle filled, and my willpower set on high. 

Today was supposed to be another successful day of staying on track, fueling my body with balanced meals, and proving to myself that I had control. 

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But by the time the sun set, I found myself surrounded by empty wrappers, my stomach uncomfortably full, and my mind drowning in guilt.

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It started small. 

A little extra peanut butter on my toast at breakfast. No big deal. 

Then, a few unplanned bites of chocolate while making lunch. Still manageable. 

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But as the day went on, the cravings grew louder. 

My stress levels were rising, my self-control was slipping, and that little voice in my head started whispering, You’ve already messed up today, so what’s the point?

And that’s when it happened.

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I gave in. 

I stopped fighting. 

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I raided the kitchen, eating anything that felt comforting—chips, cookies, ice cream, anything I could get my hands on. 

I told myself I’d stop after one more bite. Then one more. Then just a little more. 

Before I knew it, I was sitting there, heart pounding, stomach aching, and mind racing with shame.

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The guilt hit almost immediately. 

Why did I do that? Why couldn’t I stop? What’s wrong with me? 

I felt weak, like I had undone all my progress with a single lapse in control. 

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Then came the self-hate. 

You’re disgusting. You’re pathetic. You have no self-control. No wonder you’ll never reach your goals.

I looked at the empty packages scattered around me, my hands still sticky from whatever I had just eaten. 

My body felt heavy, sluggish, and sick. 

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My reflection in the darkened window made me cringe—I couldn’t even look at myself.

I thought about what I’d do next. 

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Maybe I could undo this. Maybe if I skipped meals tomorrow. Maybe if I worked out twice as hard. Maybe if I just found the willpower to never let this happen again.

But would I?

Because right now, all I wanted to do was disappear.


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