me and the plastic

There’s been controversy raging for a long time as to whether or not addiction to food, alcohol, drugs or gambling is really a disease. Dr. Laura has long been an advocate of not calling “bad habits” and “bad choices” diseases. She lays out her arguments for her position, and while she doesn’t say it’s an easy choice, she believes that choice is the deciding factor on the road to recovery.

[I remember her once using the analogy that you wouldn’t walk right up to a police officer and punch him in the nose, right? So you have access to self control. You would choose to not punch an officer of the law. So you can choose to not binge on any given substance or action. I often think of that example a few minutes after I have eaten something I didn’t need or want.]

OK then.

I don’t feel like I have a disease! What a cop [I just saw this clever use of pun, given the previous paragraph] out that would be. But I do feel I have addictive behavior and an addictive personality. I guess. I think.

I don’t know.

Maybe I’m just some moron who uses food for too many things. I know I use it as a reward, as a celebration, but as a punishment and a coping strategy as well. I use it to manipulate and sabotage myself. I’m not happy about saying these things. I’d rather just use food for nourishment. And as along as I’m typing about druthers, I’d like to be able to feel when I’m actually physically hungry and I’d like to feel when I need to stop eating, too.

That would be perfect!

Two days in a row I have eaten healthy during the daytime and put in my retainer in the late afternoon. I can actually feel myself moving towards food. I look around on the cabinet [chocolate cake!!!] on the fridge [chips !!!] I open the fridge like I’m shopping for something. Look around, open drawers. Open cupboards. I see lots of things I don’t really want and I know aren’t the answer to good health, but then I grab something and just start eating it. I recognize that it isn’t even the answer to what I’m wanting. I’m wanting arms around me, or little voices saying, “Love you!’ or safety and security. I’m looking for warmth and comfort and acceptance and adoration and respect and peace and belonging and achievement. Yah, any of those would do the trick!


And food doesn’t give me any of that. I know that!

Food gives me heartburn, gas, fat, pimples, wrinkles, and mood swings. Food makes me belch. Food makes me think of food! Food makes me blog about food!

So for right now, the answer, again, is this little piece of plastic that I put in my mouth. I wish I were stronger and more committed to myself at this very moment. I would love that, but until then, sucking plastic and talking like this: Show would jew like stue wash a moofie with me? [So would you like to watch a movie with me?] is what it takes.

TODAY: I’ve eaten so dang healthy — even at the school cafeteria I passed on the nuggets. [I sometimes pretend it’s a portion of protein but I actually realize it’s a portion of deep fried fake food.] And when I got off work I had a whole avocado [now there’s some healthy fat!] and an orange. I think I’ll scramble some eggs and have an egg/salsa thing all wrapped up in a spinach wrap. And that should be it for the day.

Not feeling satisfied, so I know there are some other things going on, but with Mr. Plastic I’m going to get through the night!

I’m so going to be 143 in the morning!