I just want to eat. I don’t know why. I don’t have an explanation. I feel stuff so I wanna eat until I don’t feel stuff anymore; except maybe guilt, guilt likes to stick around no matter what. I can’t help it though even if I know this emotional eating road dead ends in a shame culdesac.
Guilt is kind of a funny feeling. Guilt is like that sad acquaintance you invite over for a dinner party you arranged for all your awesome feelings: happy, sassy, confident, adventurous, because they’re feeling blue and they don’t want to be alone. Afterwards when all your other feelings have left Guilt doesn’t get the hint in your awkward silence that they’ve overstayed the socially acceptable dinner welcome and you want them gone so you can take a bath and get some sleep. Guilt just won’t leave.
Anyway the predominant feeling right now is… frustrated I guess. Maybe disappointed but the thing of it is I DON’T KNOW WHY. I just want to eat.
Gonna see if I can do something about this.
Story to be continued…
UPDATE: a few hours later.
So what ended up happening? I ate stuff. Although I wouldn’t qualify it as a full blown bender I definitely ate bad and not so bad stuff in a quantity that was greater than advised. A chicken sandwich and copious amounts of tomatoes, onion, pickled peppers and sweet potato fries. Perhaps I could call it a mini binge.
What does such a thing feel like? It’s kind of a numbing experience. I’d take a bit of the sandwich and quickly follow with a fork-full of vegetable. I filled my mouth with the different flavors and textures, chew to feel them mix in my mouth, wash it down with water and quickly repeat the process. I ate pretty fast too, like I was starving. I ate to fill my mouth and feel the chewing and swallowing sensation and to feel full. Yet it wasn’t enough; I didn’t feel full until it was too late so I almost ate past full to stuffed.
I don’t feel guilty or shameful about the eating but I am concerned and curious as to what’s going on in my head that’s making me act like this. I try to be introspective but this has me puzzled. Why did I feel that compulsion to eat in the first place and why couldn’t I abate the impulse… There’s a thought in the margins of my mind that suggests I might be eating out of loneliness. It’s a hard thing to admit. Although that doesn’t sound rational, part of me is saying it rings true. Admitting it to the world does bring a sense of shame but if it’s true then keeping it in hasn’t been doing me any good. I don’t have an answer or an explanation but I know writing helps flesh out these intangible thoughts. And putting it on here is some of the most honest and open I’ve been; vulnerable. I’m hoping that being vulnerable isn’t a sign of weakness but an act of courage. At least I’d like to think so right now. Then again I don’t have any answers at the moment…
Until next time.