Yesterday afternoon I got home early to find a fresh loaf of crunch Italian bread on the kitchen table. Before I knew it, I had eaten the entire thing and I was working on the leftover halloween candy. I was fully aware that I was nearing an intake of 3000 calories but I just couldn't stop. I was angry at myself for the uncontrolled indulgence, but then I got to thinking, why do I keep doing this?
I thought about this most of the evening when I finally realized, food has become my only outlet and my only refuge. Let me explain. I live pretty comfortably with my family; by comfort, I mean, I make a decent living and I'm paying off my student loans by not paying rent. The draw back is, living with family means watching what you say and what you do and making sure not to cause trouble. I know you have to do this to a little extent in any living situation, but I often feel muzzled. The ridiculous part is, I have no one to blame but myself. I have the choice to go out more or to be more strong willed and do my own thing, but I let myself be ruled by amorphous, non-existant rules to be a hermit. Of course, I'm human and I need a form of escape for balance, and that's where food comes in for me.
I find solace, comfort, stability and escape in the reliability of good tastes, textures and the seretonin high. I like that food doesn't tell me what to do or judge me. The reality is though, I judge myself at the end of the day.
I don't want to be this girl at the end of the day. I don't want to self-suffocate and then self-abuse with food. I am worth more than this. The judge is me, not the balance, bank account or my family. It's me. I'm determined to change this cycle today. It's a new day, it's
my new day and new start.
