Most times, I was "good" but then hell would break loose and I would lose control. Exercise was equally as obsessive. Spinning, stepping, rollerblading the globe, speed-walking, hiking. None of this was pleasurable then.It was for the goal: lose weight. be thin. Weigh less.
If you ever saw the movie Network, there is a scene where the main character hits the wall going 90, and screams from the rooftops "I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it anymore." Well, that was what unintentionally happened to me.
I was going to Italy, I had been given many restaurant recommendations. Past trips had consisted of eating the vegetable antipasto, not drinking and eating salads. Then the last day, I would stuff my face with gelato or paella or whatever because I knew I would be "good" once I got home. I would torture Europeans for whole grain bread, low fat milk, artificial sweetener. The idea of cream made me panic. Regular sugar? Sacre bleu!