Originally Posted by
Cow 
... ...ginger tea. Apparently, ginger is serotonin agonist. I was no aware of this, but I sure brain notice straight away and start obsessing on it. But main thing is, I just not can get through day without moving from fix to fix. Even right now, I think, what I gonna has for dinner? Uh huh, uh huh, okay, but then what I gonna has for snack after the dinner?! Like only way right now tolerable is that I know food reward coming up. To think back, I always been like this.
Anyways, night of my episode, I drinking wine and eating EVERYTHING for hours and hours. Like big conveyor going in my mouth and was no amount gonna be enough. What next? What next? And it become surreal inconsolable road to nowhere, which I feel like that all life is for me anyways. Luckily, I puke guts up before I pass out. Then I wake up and start again. 
Cow, sometimes I think we walk in close pastures.
funny thing about warm tea and milk and sugar... got me thinking of going back to detox. How my counselor said if I slipped to go back.
I left detox a day early because I was SO hungry. I am a small girl and they were rationing food for us. Eventually we ran out of bread. We ran out of milk. We ran out of the dark brew.
I could not STAND that a bunch of detoxing addicts were going hungry between our allotted meals. I kept giving my meals to a pregnant mom there. I found the hot tea was comforting. But we were literally eating peanut butter and jam out of the little packets we were so hungry.
I left and leaving there as hungry as I was triggered a massive binge for me.
I think both with the drinking and the food.
I can't go back to that. I starved myself a decade ago while I worked and tried to keep food on the table for my kids. I have flukced my brain up with all my disordered eating and meds and booze. I get that.I feel bad for the staff at the centre. They were SO mad at the food situation. The one counselor I sat down with and talked about another client who was very badly abusing the food privilege actually cried with me.
She told me about how her dad was an alcoholic for 25 some years and living on the streets and when he finally got sober, he ate and and ate and could not stop eating for the first bit of his recovery until his brain and life evened out and he knew that there would be food tomorrow, he could keep leftovers. And she said how none of the staff agreed with clients having to worry about how much food they would have access to. We rallied together though. I was able to buy some food from the caf when we went on our supervised walks so I bought extras for me and whoever I could.
I ramble. Now I want tea. A bed, and mostly. I want to smack myself back to 2 months ago. Not really. But kind of.