My whole life I have been an emotional eater – when life’s stressy-stuff shit hits the fan, I melt my misery in a mouthful of chocolate, caress my cares with creamy crumbs of cake (er… and the rest), then soothe my scars with silky ice cream. I do know it’s not good for me, and have tried over the years to fix it – oh, how I have tried – but to no avail. After all, it must work after a fashion because here I am, still here on this crazy planet, still alive and kicking (not to mention screaming silently inside).
But here’s my current problem (well, one of my current problems) I’m seriously struggling with. I have a doctor’s diagnosis of multiple digestive issues that are partially caused by all the crap I eat to try to help myself feel better about having so many stupid stressy-stuff problems to deal with in life in the first place… Aaarrrggghhh…!. Basically, my comfort eating is causing me a lot of discomfort, and right now I just don’t know what to do with myself to easy my pain.
I do understand the absolute logic behind the necessity to knock this comfort eating on the head once and for all, but unfortunately for me my resistance is not coming from a neat and tidy place of common-sense reason but from a deep cavernous well of a lifetime of unresolved feelings churning and roiling in agony. Food – especially sweet, fatty, salty food – seems to placate them, or at least shuts them up for a while when they’re giving me most grief.
What I’m having to learn just now, what I’m trying to teach myself, is to eat to comfort my physical self rather than eat to comfort my emotional self… and I’m really finding it difficult to do. I don’t think I realised just how intrusive and how invasive my comfort eating is – was – because actively NOT comfort eating seems to have left me rootless, anchorless, lost and scared. Perhaps you can teach an old dog new tricks after all, given time, but it’s turning out to be an absolute bitch of a process to go through…
I am, however, persevering nonetheless, and although no doubt I’ll fall off the wagon at some point I’ll simply remind myself it’s not going to be a quick all-or-nothing sprint but (for me especially) is likely to turn into a marathon of epic proportions – I need to keep myself looking forward to my healthy new future on the horizon, keeping my eyes keenly on the prize ahead instead of being distracted by an old distorted demon lagging behind me, dragging me down… Watch this space… 🙂
Fandango’s One Word Challenge: Wagon