I would like to take a moment to talk about my addiction. I know that it might sound silly to some people, but I have a serious addiction to food. When I feel sad, stressed, angry, irritated, or any other negative emotion that I could possibly have I feel like I need to comfort myself with food. Last night I found myself in an uncomfortable emotional situation and the whole time that I was confronting this situation all I could think of was all of the foods that I would like to be eating. I thought about throwing in the towel and saying "Screw it, I want to eat and I am going to eat!" but then I realized that again, I would only be hurting myself, not anybody else. Even long after I had dealt with the situation, I still was feeling unhappy and I was still fantasizing (seriously) about all of the delicious unhealthy foods that I wanted to eat. I do not use the term fantasizing lightly either. I was thinking in great detail about the foods that I wanted to consume, and how they would make me feel, what they would taste like and even went so far as to visualize myself eating these foods to feel happy again. If you wouldn't call that an addiction, then you don't know what addiction is.
I started thinking about why it was that I have such an emotional bond with food. Why is it that when I have feelings, even happy feelings sometimes, the first thing that pops into my head is FOOD? I thought back to my childhood and what my relationship with food was then... The images that came up for me were disturbing to say the least.
I remembered when I was in Kindergarten and I didn't have many friends, but the friends that I did have always had these beautifully packed home made lunches that mom or dad made with love, and I remember being extremely jealous of these people. Jealous because they had somebody who would pack them a lunch, who cared enough to do it, but also because they always had the "good foods" like Ho-hos Dingdongs and Twinkies, real Capri-Suns and other delicious treasures. I remember wanting so badly to be able to have those things and when I came home from school I would eat as many sweets as I could find... But why? To heal my hurt from being a loner, to fill my need to be the same as these other kids?
I remember very specifically that after my father passed away when I was a child, I started eating substantially more. We moved in with my mother on the complete other side of the state that we were living in. I became and instant loner again. My clothes didn't fit right, and were not weather appropriate, I was awkward and upset because of my loss and I lacked the social skills to make friends in the first place.
Anything sweet, or salty was something that I would not deny. My mother would go to the store and get the industrial sized boxes of cheese-its, crackers, chips, cookies, cream cheese, lunch meats, etc. These foods were meant specifically to be for our school lunches. I would wake up in the morning and pack my lunch, but as soon as I got on the school bus I would start snacking on whatever it was that I had packed... I would get to school and by the time that lunch came, I didn't have anything left to eat and if I did, it was something that I didn't want. A fruit cup maybe, or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. By the time that I came home in the evening I would feel like I was starving. My mother was always trying to lose weight and I remember her having Slim-fast in the fridge, which I would snag two or three of and guzzle. Then I would get 3 cups of cheese its and the cream cheese out and have myself a "snack". Of course, I would eat dinner an hour or two later... LOTS of dinner. All of this food that I consumed became my friend. It was my comfort when nobody else wanted me.
Of course, as I ate and ate, I grew and expanded. Eventually I weighted 165lbs and I was only 4' something... I wore a size 18 and I was still a pre-teen. Boys though I was disgusting, and girls were embarrassed to be my friend, unless I was helping them with school projects, of course! I had low self-esteem and I hated who I had become. Unfortunately, food was still my best friend. I guess looking back on it now, I should have seem it coming, but I developed an eating disorder anyways.
It started over the summer before my Sophomore year in High School. I requested that my mother buy me a flat of vegetable juice, and that is all that I would allow myself to have most of the time. I would walk several miles into the small town that I lived in every day to hang out with a few people who had accepted me as a "friend". I did not eat unless somebody noticed that I hadn't had anything all day, and even then I would buy something and insist that everybody share it! If I couldn't fool somebody, I would eat a few pieces of cheese and some carrots siting the excuse that I had plans with somebody to eat "soon" and I didn't want to fill up. I went from a size 18 to a size 9 in a month, found a boyfriend, and then my mother moved dropped the bomb on me that she was moving me to another state because she found a better job there.
I started a new school and felt that if I wanted to keep up my appearance and have a shot at being accepted that I needed to keep up with my lack on nutrition. It worked. The first day at my new school, I made several new friends and got lots of looks from boys, which was a completely new experience. I would keep three cans of vegetable juice with me in my back pack and would only drink one if I started getting dizzy and seeing black spots in my vision. Eventually I started eating little bits here and there at school. Maybe a few fries or a sandwich, but I would eat barely anything at home. I had formed a new relationship with food: an extreme hatred. Even after I graduated from high school early I kept up with my body image by walking everywhere that I went. I kept my motivation up because I had a boyfriend who said that I should never weigh more than he did. Eventually that ended due to the loss of my first child, and my realization that this guy was not a good person at all.
That is when I flopped back to where I am now. Food became my source of comfort, and love again. I ate to fill the void of my loss and to improve my feelings of self worth after so many years of being told by myself and other people that I just wasn't good enough... I met my husband and we have a wonderful little boy now, but my relationship with food has stayed the same. I love it, worship it, need it to feel safe and comfortable. I look to it to fill my aching heart when I feel sorrow.
I hope that after this juice fast I can find the balance that I have always been lacking when it comes to food. I want to be able to not feel that I need to eat to be happy. I want to find an inner balance that allows me to know that I am going to be okay after all.
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