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I stress eat. Anyone else in this awful little boat with me? You know,
the one that throws you around in the raging sea of your hunger until
you give in, jump into the water and eat yourself into a food coma?
Yeah, that's the one I'm in too. And it ain't no pleasure cruise, let
me tell you.
Life has been a little stressful lately. I guess
"little" is an understatement. Between waiting for my house to be
finished, the kids, work, trying to stay afloat in this vicious
economy, and some family "issues," I have been, we shall say for the
sake of not calling myself anything hideous, "on edge." OK, OK,
basically I have been a raving bitchy lunatic. But there is one thing
that pulls me out of my stress-induced insanity, and that is ICE CREAM.
Lately, at the end of a "pull your hair out, want to run away from home
and put your kids on the curb" day, all I want is a big bowl of cold,
creamy goodness smothered in chocolate syrup. I can feel it come on
just after dinner. It's a little nagging feeling that can't be ignored.
I deserve it, I tell myself. It will ease the pain of the stressful day
(yes, I actually momentarily believe this to be true).
However,
there is a catch to this little solution to my stress. After I eat this
delicious, delectable and delightful treat...I FEEL SO MUCH WORSE.
Because
the next stage in the sick little cycle is that I feel horribly guilty
for pigging out and wish that I hadn't. You would think, being the
intelligent and level-headed woman that I am, that I would be able to
outsmart the cycle and realize before I eat the food that it is NOT
going to make me feel better and that I am going to regret it after, so
I may as well not eat it. Yes, you would think so. But tragically, no.
It is as if I am possessed by the chocolate devil and somehow all past
memories of the aftermath of the ice cream are sucked out of my head,
leaving behind it a trail of rationalizations that assure me that YES,
this ice cream will make it aaaaallllllll better.
So after the
regretted eating of the ice cream, I tell myself NOT to do it again and
that tomorrow will be different. But so far, every tomorrow is the
same. When I stress, I eat to make it go away. And it doesn't, and I
start all over again. How do I break this evil and manipulative cycle
that is playing mind games with me to the point that I am almost done
caring? What is it that is going to fill that void that I try to stuff
with ice cream and cookies until I explode? I was loved as a kid. I get
enough affection from my husband (when he's around) and I am trying to
love myself. Aside from eliminating my life of all stressors (which,
who are we kidding, is impossible), I am at a loss as to how to nip
this in the bud.
I am seriously considering some shock therapy
or hypnosis, but then with my luck, every time someone said ice cream,
I would take off all my clothes and cluck like a chicken.
Has
anyone else conquered this beast? Does anyone have any pearls of wisdom
to help me eliminate this monkey on my back that foils my attempts at
weight loss again and again? I am fully open to suggestion.
