Misfire

The breakfast and lunch pictures below, like my other food pictures this week, don’t tell the whole story. I had my usual breakfasts, snacks (fruit, yogurt, etc.), lunches and dinners this week but also…

Monday, Thursday, Friday and today I have totally gone off the deep end with extra food. I have had more peanut butter, jelly, bread, protein bars, popcorn and nuts than anyone should have in a week.

Then there were all the cookies:

  • Boss’s wife and little girls made plates and plates of cookies (SO MANY) for the office: no bake peanut butter ones (I had TWENTY in two days), extra large chocolate chip (I had two)
  • Two packs of 8 peanut butter cookies from the vending machine
  • Stopped at the gas station Monday, wandered innocently (ummm…) into the convenience store and bought a pack of peanut butter sandwich creme cookies, ate them while I filled up the car, then went back in for a large pack of vanilla double stuf Oreos and ate those as I drove away. Then when I stopped at Albertson’s for peanut butter, I bought another pack of vanilla creme cookies at the checkout stand. RIDICULOUS. I could barely eat dinner that night but… I didn’t tell Steve about all the cookies so I had to just suck it up. Perhaps I’ll tell him later when he gets home because now that I am remembering it, I hate that I lied by omission. I’ve talked about this here before and I swore I’d never do that again.

Then today, after the lovely breakfast and lunch, I stopped at Central Market for more dried blueberries for oatmeal and more peanut butter for Steve, since I finished the other jar too soon for his liking and he wanted more for himself. I also picked up:

  • Large package of chocolate wafer cookies
  • Slice of double layer chocolate cake from the bakery
  • Crispy chocolate pecan cookie from the bakery

And I ate all of them in the car before I even got home – plus four spoonfuls of Steve’s pb (which, I swear, I will now leave for him or he will not be happy).

I don’t know why. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m mad at myself. I’m disappointed. I don’t understand why I am the way I am.

I ate perfectly well – really, reeeeeeally well, so nutritiously, for three weeks straight. I had the goal in mind of looking awesome in my tiny outfit I am wearing for my 5K on Thursday. Now? I feel huge. I feel like I am going to look horrible. I know this is illogical, irrational. I know one week doesn’t cancel out the three before it (well, by the numbers, it nearly evens it out, so to speak, but it doesn’t mean I’ve gained anything, either).

I just wish I knew how to not be this way. I don’t know why I still have these issues. No “off switch.” No sense of moderation.

I say this repeatedly, but every time I have these episodes, I am reminded of my alcoholism. I do what I do in a total mental fog. I know I shouldn’t be doing it, but I do it anyway. I ingest as much of it as I can in as little time as I can, to feel satisfied, to feel happy, to feel better – but about what? I have no idea. Of course, duh, I don’t feel better after. I feel sick, in both mind and body.

Truly, after soul searching, I do not think I have anything going on in my life worth eating my feelings over. I don’t. My life is really kind of awesome – so much so, in fact, that I wonder if this is one more way that I keep trying to make something be wrong, practicing self-sabotage because I am always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

OR perhaps this is old, sick behavior that resurfaces from time to time, like an old record playing in my head, the grooves long-worn through years of cyclical addictive behavior, that I play out with food since I can no longer do it with alcohol, drugs, smokes.

But I’m tired of this. It happens less than it used to, but I want it to not happen at all.

I’ve been thinking a lot this week about that “no moderation” post I reblogged, about how junk food is so much like other addictive substances and for some, there is no such thing as moderation. I think it may be time for me to start looking at certain foods that way. I already don’t buy certain things because I know I can’t have them in the house, but there will have to be no more side trips to the store or grazing on stuff brought by coworkers, either, even if I try to rationalize that I will just have one or two. It never works.

It’s not about willpower. I know I have an extremely strong mind. This is beyond that. Something doesn’t fire quite right in there. Much of that is my fault through the many, many years I spent nurturing that misfire mechanism, nurturing the sickness by always giving myself whatever substance, food, chemical, etc. that I wanted, whenever I wanted it.

But however it happened, it’s part of my brain and I think I need to accept that and work with it instead of trying to battle it. Maybe one day the synapses will fire right and all will be well. Maybe not. For now, I have to work with what I have and what I’ve done to change the way my brain functions.

I’m a recovered alcoholic and no one, after hearing that, would expect that I could have “just one drink, once in a while, no big deal, you’re celebrating something. etc.” I may have to start looking at sweets and a few other foods the same way – no eating them, not even once in a while, not even for celebrating. Maybe it will be temporary, maybe not. I’ll see.

Stuff to ponder. I’m grateful that I can vent all this here. I’m still a work in progress, but I trust that I will figure out what I need to do and what works for me.

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