Friday night I ate until I puked.
It didn't even feel like a binge and I certainly didn't stick my finger down my throat. I just ate until I got sick.
It started off with mozarella sticks and hot wings. Then on to steak, baked potato, green beans and bread.
Soon after I finished eating, I felt some nausea, but it wasn't that urgent OH MY GOD and run to the bathroom kind of nausea. It was the "eh, I ate too much so I'm just gonna sit here and never move again" nausea.
Then 5 minutes later I knew I was gonna throw up, but again it wasn't an urgent feeling. Like I had time to put my hair up and grab a towel and kneel in front of the toilet before anything came up.
After it was all over I felt so much better. I just figured something didn't agree with me, but that's not it. I had eaten until it hurt. I had honestly eaten so much food my guts wanted to get rid of it.
Then a wave of desperation came over me. I desperately don't want to be in that position ever again. I desperately want to be a healthy person who can enjoy a nice long life.
I weighed on Sunday and it said 234.5, but I'm not recording it as an official weight because I was wearing pajamas and already had a cup of coffee. I only record weights first thing in the morning without clothes and after I've used the bathroom.
That being said, 234.5 isn't nearly as bad as I was expecting. I guess throwing up that heavy meal worked in my favor for that one thing.