Prompt: Describe your personal relationship with food. What does it represent for you? How would you sum it up in one word (for example: comfort, nutrition, guilt, pleasure)?
Food has always been medication for me. People in my family tend to lean toward addiction. Since I don’t enjoy the taste of alcohol I dodged the alcoholism bullet. Seeing how idiotic people are when under the influence of recreational drugs, I dodged that one as well.
And then there’s food … Lionel Bart said it best “Food, glorious food“. Before the reclamation of my life in the last 18 months or so, I would eat all the time for no other reason than food is delicious. I was unhappy, disappointed, grieving, and bored. I quieted all of that, albeit temporarily, with food.
Like an alcoholic who is abstaining from drink, I am still very much an addict. On an emotional day, there are aisles in the supermarket that I must avoid. I know if I can just get home without buying whatever that food is, that I’ll be ok. I still desperately want the crutch. I will still obsess about it. I will not consume it. That’s the difference.
How to sum it up in one word? It’s a battle, that’s for sure. Not every day but still pretty often. It is a full-blown addiction. It always will be. Food would be medication if I allowed it to be. There are days when I fervently wish potato chips could be prescribed like Prozac. They would be at least as effective, rest assured.
I will sum it up with “choice”. Everyday I make the choice for health over addiction. I have had days where I stood in the pantry and cried because I so desperately wanted to eat things I shouldn’t. On those days, I chose health. On those days, when I was completely certain that I would feel so much better if I could just sit down with ice cold milk and a package of cookies, it seriously sucked hard-core to do the right thing and I did it anyway …cursing all the way.
Today I am grateful for: support
Today’s funny moment: The entire erection conversation
Sad moment: absentee Dad
Water: 4 liters
Corset: not worn
Hood: 3 hours – I’m annoyed with myself that I’ve not made another attempt at white noise. I’m planning on doing it in the morning since tomorrow will be my last opportunity at training before the holiday chaos ensues.