Today was... distasteful, literally.

So because you don't know me I'll start out with the basics. I'm 18 years old and I am a NPC bikini competitor. Now I know this may sound like bull shit at first but just hear me out. All through out my life I have been involved in some type of sport, cheerleading for 13 years gymnastics and tumbling for 7, so when I graduated highschool I needed something to fill that void. I knew I would never amount to a college cheerleader or gymnast, I just didn't have the talent. I got into doing competitions with my best friend who had been competing for a year or so. At first I loved it. I trained hard, I dieted down, I looked great, felt great, kicked cravings asses daily and I competed in my first show in June of 2013. During my off season is when everything went south. I blew up like a balloon. And I mean BLEW UP. I gained 15 pounds within two weeks and my personal trainer almost gave me a medal for fucking up so bad so fast. I didn't hold back, I ate what ever I wanted, I didn't go to the gym to work out and I surely didn't worry about getting my two gallons of water in daily. But I realized, these diets and training programs are not a lifestyle. I need to find my happy medium, I can eat yummy foods in small amounts when I crave them, and that's where my problems really started. I'm the type who always likes to finish what I make. I would rather make a single serving batch of cookies so I know there aren't any left when I'm done, so having one small piece of chocolate wasn't cutting it. I remember my first binge perfectly. It was my friends birthday and I decided to make him brownies from scratch, I found this amazing recipe and started cooking away. When they were done they smelled so good, no not even good, they smelt heavenly. So I talked myself into having one, just one. Then I sat there, and I thought, and I thought, and the next thing I knew I was tearing into the entire pan with a spoon until I devoured half of the entire pan. I felt immediate remorse and went to the kitchen sink to make myself throw up for the first time in my life, and it was so... EASY. I remember telling myself, "wow this is easy, you know you will do this again." I was scared. And I had every right to be. For the next four months this type of behavior became an everyday thing, until I finally came clean to my trainer and told him what had been going on. And he called me, and I cried, and we talked, and told me I needed time off. It was my choice not to seek professional help but sometimes I wish I had. Because it's been three months since my time off. I'm one month into my new diet and cardio plans and I'm training again for the 2014 bikini season. So this is why I need you, my readers, even if you aren't there. Just to listen to me, maybe talk to me, but most of all I need you to help me realize that I can do this, that I can live with out chocolate and pizza. And with that bit of back round, I leave you, to enjoy some greek yogurt and greys anatomy before I pass out and wake up tomorrow for cardio :^) xoxo SOYG