It's true though. Food has been in abundance and an indulgence for most of my life. As a boy, my parents did nothing to control what I ate, how much I ate, how fast I ate. To the contrary, they provided excessive amounts of food, prepared excessively heavy and indulgent meals, and brought me in as an accomplice in their hidden eating rituals.
Meghann had a brilliant insight for me. It may be that I associate food, indulgence, excessive eating with a safe and consistent family that I perceived I had as a boy. At twelve years old it seems that our family began to fall apart. Mom and dad fought more often yet went out of town a lot more often too, leaving me and my middle sister at home, alone. My father and I fought all the time too. My mom died when I was 21 and if I hadn't already, that marked the loss of my family.
Today, I overeat when I feel bored or alone or unsupported. Or sad. And sometimes I truly don't know why I overeat. I can be screaming in my head, begging myself to stop as I order that donut, cut that piece of cake, eat that sleeve of Fig Newtons, order the entire pizza, large milkshake. But I don't stop. And I can just as easily forget I over did it yesterday when I order again today.
I mentioned before that I've never fit in or felt like I fit in. I am guarded. Self reliant. And often feel alone. And to move away from sadness and loss, I eat. I need to stop or I will die sooner than I would like.
I am a damn good therapist and I will only get better and yet I hold myself to this standard that because I am a therapist I should have this shit figured out. Well, I don't.
I want to be healthy. I want to be proud of my body. I want to enjoy food, not engulf it.
Today's WW report is not all that hopeful, but I am keeping my promise to myself to post every day.
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