Beautiful day.
Beautiful day.
I had a long chat with one of my clients yesterday about what we eat. Why is it that we can't control what we consume. Or rather why is it that some of us can and some of us can't? As an article in . . . Good Housekeeping I think, said there are those with the fat brain and those of us with the thin brain. I, lucky me, have a fat brain. Perfect match. Anyway, everything for the fat brain revolves around food. What to eat, when. is it a good food or a bad food. You eat one 'bad' thing and well hell now I might as well eat it all because imperfect me just made the biggest fuck up of my life and ate a cookie. How can an otherwise rational (no comments from the peanut gallery please) person loose her (or his) mind over a stupid cookie. The world is not going to come to an end over a cookie, not even over 5 or 10 or even the whole bag. Really, it is admittedly not the best food selection on the planet, but the planet will continue to exist . . . and so will I / you. Why does food have this draw? I know it wasn't always that way. There was a time when people ate because they needed to be nourished physically. I know there was a time when emotions had very little to do with what you ate. Food as a necessity GREAT! Food as an emotional crutch - WTF!
The kicker is. As an emotional crutch food really sucks. It is like that abusive relationship. Hug hug hug, ohhh I love you please let me hug you and love you . . . you stupid good for nothing bitch! You know I actually had an ex boyfriend say to me after I dumped him. " No one will ever love you as much as I do you stupid bitch." I (after a year and a half of such fun and games) had finally opened my eyes. I laughed at him and said "well, gees. When you put it that way." and then I hung up the stupid phone. Yes the phone, but that is an entirely different story. Ring a bell though? Lets open the door, or answer the phone and open ourselves up to yet another round of false promises and temporary comfort. And get this. This is seriously the best part. IT IS ALL SELF INFLICTED.
Really, unless you are (and God I pray that you are not) in a situation where you are being tied down and being force fed things, this is entirely an escapist tactic, that never succeeds, makes us feel worse about ourselves and worst of all we do it to ourselves. Most of us who suffer from this affliction do battle every time we open our mouths. We the tender food addicted, self flagellating, over weight, cry foul. We have been beaten down by (insert your abuser etc of choice here) and we turned to food as comfort and protection. Brilliant, bloody brilliant. Hey don't get mad at me. It's my own personal truth, and I KNOW I am not alone in being in this place. It began so long ago I don't even remember when it began. I can't even pin point when I became aware of it.
What I am acutely aware of now is that even though my tormentors are long gone from my physical life, they still have a sick control over me via a new and much more difficult to eradicate vehicle. Me. I have stepped up to the plate and taken over the bat. Not only do I now play for their team, I bat, pitch and run. Not only do I do all that, but I Coach the fucking team and I am in the stands cheering them on. And the icing. I'm selling hot dogs, ice cream and all manner of goodies in the stands.
With friends like me . . .
So the key, as I see it, is to evict that VOB, or that part of her, from my head. So . . . any ideas?
Bek
No comments:
Post a Comment