By Kim Shambaugh, Holistic Health Pracitioner

Food Photograph by Wendy Fabels Kruse

Life is meant to be enjoyed, but it shouldn’t be at the cost of self-loathing because you’re too bloated to function for the next 5 days. Below is my  break-glass-in-case-of-emergency guide for when you're bloated + miserable after indulging. Vacations, holidays, celebrations, you name it! The steps inside will help you quickly hit the reset button + feel comfortable in your skin again. Be sure to bookmark it so you can easily come back to it time + time again.

This protocol can be applied at any time of indulging. Vacations, holidays, celebrations, you name it!…

It happens like clockwork…last night you hit that holiday party you’ve been thinking about for weeks. Merriment was had, treats were consumed without any notion of “do what your future self will think you for”, drinks were enjoyed + yep, your sleep schedule is a shit show because of the revenge-bed-time-procrastonation stretching out vacation just a bit longer in avoidance of the slog of responsibilities that faces you, yet again, on Monday morning.

Was it worth it? Yes… + no, because now you have to also face tomorrow with, you guessed it, the dreaded tummy ache (+ some bloat).

This isn’t a post about how to sharpen discipline + will power yourself through the holidays. Let’s get real, life is meant to be enjoyed, but it shouldn’t be at the cost of feeling self loathing because you’re too bloated to function for the next 5 days.

Boy, let me tell you I’ve been there.

Let’s take it back to 2012.

I was in the throes of Binge Eating Disorder + attending family Thanksgiving at my parents' house down south, where I was sure to be faced with a different casserole for every letter of the alphabet + a mother that lovingly insisted I “get another plate because I haven’t eaten hardly anything”-God love her.

As you could assume, it was a nightmare.

I had plate after plate…after plate.

The “sugar monster” started to set in + the craving for more sugar screamed to my brain MOOOORE before the meal had time to digest + I didn’t hesitate.

Four hours later, I was miserable in my own skin, groggy, barely fitting into my pants, hoping my baggy sweater didn’t show my distended belly too much.

To add insult to injury, I had been working so hard in the gym + trying even harder to watch what I ate. I could feel my self-anger setting in + I had to see it…how much weight did I actually gain? As if the answer on the scale in my parents’ bathroom held the true answer to my self-worth like a magic eight-ball.

—Mind you, I was a 20-something with a Type A+ personality + a need to prove that would put David Goggins himself to shame. I stepped on that scale just moments after the long meal ended**.**

…Now, somewhere in the here + now, over a decade later, is my future self is screaming as I’m reliving this memory, “NOOO WHY!!!? DON’T YOU DARE STEP ON THAT THINGGG!” But in my need to prove what a worthless piece of shit I felt like tuning it out. I stepped on the magic eight ball…yep, up 7 lbs since this morning…I knew it…worthless.

Then the burn of guilt + shame took over + fueled the next few weeks of 2-a-day training sessions + under eating, which kept the binge eating cycle going because of the too large calorie deficit.

A word of caution: Don’t step on the scale after an indulgent meal. Duh.

(we’ll come back to this)