Binges – Each One Another Stab at Slowly Killing Myself

So I have identified two main residual problems: Lack of sleep – or poor quality thereof – and the resulting fatigue can and often does trigger a depressive episode. The other thing: Massive overeating at night. I’m not even all clear on the reasons for that anymore, but I think it’s an ill-conceived attempt at trying to enjoy myself with something that can’t possibly be met with derision, abuse or contempt (earlier in life, whenever I did genuinely become enthusiastic about something, I was met with verbal, emotional and physical abuse of the worst kind to the point that even as a child, I didn’t want to go on living and felt all misplaced and “square”, an accident of life).

Today, I still punish myself whenever things work out well! The better the results, the more I punish myself for them. I can’t seem to escape this brutal pattern at all. There are tiny windows, where I’m o.k. with myself and the world and begin to feel something that others may experience more or less on a constant basis (minus their own daily struggles at the workplace, of course and for example). These windows practically solely happen in the absence of people and the typical interactions with them. Like, when I’m outdoors, alone, riding my bike or swimming in the lake and taking a nap before or after. All these activities I have been doing all by myself in years. For all practical intents and purposes, I guess I’ve firmly arrived at being a loner at most times (and only in part voluntarily so)

I had a fairly productive day today, all things considered. Slept in, did my usual checking on emails and Facebook, made a couple of phone calls I had jotted down to remind me, then went about recording some guitars for a friend’s piece for about 4 hours straight (recording and editing, I should add). Did my shopping, came back, changed clothes, the rain had stopped, I got on the bike and did one of my semi-long laps to the lake, enjoyed a beautiful sunset, had a chat with a professional photographer there, then headed back and fixed myself dinner. That’s when usually all dams break and I give in to a massive binge. Actually, the eating really only happens for needing to reward myself for my self-discipline in some way, rewarding myself for not having given in to the depression, the loneliness, the self-contempt. Somewhere between the first bite and the last, something happens that has me lose all respect and appreciation of the effort that went into structuring my day and going about things one might consider productive. The more contended I feel before pigging out, the harder I annihilate all that with the ensuing binge. It’s like trying to kill myself in a very slow and painful way.

I know, it’s all based on an erroneous concept of self, of self-worth, actually. I am completely aware of that. And yet – I don’t seem able to reclaim control over this process, this pattern. I had had better control over this previously – or at least, I’d like to think so. But now I feel completely helpless in terms of that. What’s worse: I don’t believe in therapy helping at all in this regard. Why? Simple: Because no therapy, no doctor and much less any medication can quench the thirst for genuine love and appreciation, the kind of which I was denied from early on. Ironically, trying to fill that void literally by stuffing all kinds of food into myself doesn’t help any more, either. It should be easy to just let it go then. But it’s not. I am at a loss as to explaining why and how that is. I mean, yes, I’m aware of the chemical reward system in the brain, the dynamics of cravings and their satisfaction and such. I know all that. But knowing that doesn’t seem to help, either. Maybe I’m just burning out on willpower, the one thing that has kept me here in the first place. Maybe I’m burning out on having to struggle so hard 24/7. Maybe I’m all burnt out on life and haven’t really realized it yet.

P.S. It’s kind of uncanny that right after having completed this blog, I find the news percolating about Robin Williams seemingly having committed suicide this noon. Reports say he had been suffering from severe depression as of late with a history of earlier alcohol and drug abuse. Looks as if there is no cure to lack of love, in particular when that lack of love happens at the most vulnerable times in our lives…

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