My mind is plagued. It is filled with obsessive thoughts about cakes and chocolates, licorice, and any other sweet things to have. The sweet taste of chocolate on my tongue, until I am in a satiated, sugary coma, my veins buzzing with over-consumption of coffee.
Let’s face it, I am an addict, who desperately wants to be in a different place physically, but who mentally obsesses over any delicacies. My brain fills up with a singular thought until it is satisfied. It’s hard to say no. When I want something, I don’t have the fortitude to deny myself the gratification, think about the big picture. If I have to drive 30 miles to get a specific pastry, I just might do that.
While I try to diet, I tell myself: “This one won’t hurt me.” And then “Well, that last one wasn’t so bad, I can have a little bit.” And then eventually it is “I’ll try again tomorrow, since today is a wash.”
Why am I unable to stop at moderation? I have never met anyone (that I know of), who struggles so much with over-eating. I even worry my husband, and probably just about anyone else if they knew just how much I eat unhealthy shit.
I might hide things if I get confronted with my eating. Somehow, someway, I always find a way to get to that sweet sensation that delivers that sugary coma. I have, since I was a kid. Since I was on 4th grade. At that age, I already realized I had a problem. Since then, I have tried to hide the issue. All I’ve heard is “Eat less”, “Don’t have so many sweets”. If I could stop, I would. I don’t know how to.
And as an adult, with access to money and to a vehicle, it is even worse. I don’t know what to do. I fear of failure. I almost feel like I don’t want to try to do better. But I do, month at a time, and I relapse and yo-yo back to where I started from, and then more. It’s not healthy. It’s not good.
I am in a dark place. I am going through a withdrawal again, since I ate horribly the last three weeks. I tracked most of it, so I knew, but I couldn’t stop myself. I promised I would, but then I wanted something. Anything, everything.
And I hate going through these withdrawal symptoms. It’s horrifying. Getting to the other side, but constantly having to say “no” to temptations that come into the house. It’s like bringing alcohol to an alcoholic. It is exactly like it, actually.
I admit. I am weak. I cannot say no.
Here I am again, trying to get back into the wagon. Beaten.