I love food, I may as well accept it. This love hate relationship is dangerous and I don’t think I have any real control over it. I just can’t keep food within the house that could contribute to my downfall. This is why the homemade cookies I made on Sunday went into the garborator on Monday morning before my husband left the house.
This is why on Friday when I got really anxious and stressed out about our dinner party I sat with a handful of cookies and scarfed them. There is no control. My anxiousness towards the food just makes it worse.
Here is my thought pattern and discussion with a friend about my anxiety & eating (not word for word – I don’t have that kind of memory)
me: “sometimes I think if I took anti anxiety medication it would help with my eating. Less anxiety = less bingeing)”
friend: “well, what if it only made you not care that you ate it?”
me (jokingly): “true, maybe I should just smoke pot to relax”
friend: “nope – munchies”
me: “no, hope”
Don’t get too judgmental about my pot/marijuana line, it’s not something I would ever consider doing with my two kids in the house. Besides, it makes me feel all paranoid and icky, I personally hate the feeling.
Now comes my next thought – I have to do crazy exercise to burn the calories from my food intake. Maybe if I burn myself out I will be discouraged from eat OR too tired to walk to the kitchen.
This weeks tweak will be to get dressed and out the door by 9am for a walk each morning with the kiddies (weather permitting)