::sighs::
You know, I’ve always known instinctively that I’ve had an addictive personality. That’s why I’ve avoided the big nasties. Tobacco, marijuana, alcohol. . .I’ve either never tried them or extremely limited my exposure to two times or less in my entire life. I didn’t even let myself join any online role-playing groups, because I knew–I knew!–that if I started in them, I could get to the point where I’d be psychologically addicted to them. This board’s been the only potentially addictive thing I’ve allowed myself to experience. I mean, I know that I am the grandchild of alcoholics; I know the way that my mind works.
So I’ve been good. I’ve been really, really good, as far as avoiding most things go. That is, except for one thing:
Food.
I’ve always had a slight weight problem. Nothing major, nothing where I’m totally and completely obese. Just carrying a few extra pounds around with me. I’d come to the conclusion long ago that I would basically eat whatever I wanted, 'cause it wasn’t going to make a difference. And it didn’t. Hell, long term, I was actually slowly–very slowly, but it was still there–losing weight. I was cute. Not a knockout, not skinny, but not really that fat. Just sorta middle of the road.
Then I got together with my ex. He was an emotionally manipulative and abusive, insensitive, and self-involved guy about 50 percent of the time. Being with him kinda hurt. It was an online relationship, and sometimes he’d get mad and yell at me, or he’d ignore me, and, to kill time/distract myself/make myself feel better, I’d go get food. The 15 minute trip to the cafeteria and back usually gave me time to think. Ordering pizza gave me contact with other human beings, and something to focus on besides what my ex was/wasn’t doing. Not to mention the fact that, once I got to college, unhealthy food was all around.
It began that way. Fortunately, for a while, I was able to (mostly) control things. Keep my weight more or less under control. I mean, there was the freshmen 10 (it wasn’t even 15!), but, big deal, that happens to everyone.
After winter break, though, the relationship went downhill. Big-time downhill. Massively heartbreakingly so. At that point, the eating just went FWOOSH! through the proverbial roof. Gradually, as the pain of breaking up subsided, so did the eating–except for one thing: whenever I got stressed, even a little bit, I immediately turned back towards food.
My life is mostly good now. I mean, we’re not talking the best thing in the whole wide world, but things are going decent. Still, I get stressed, as humans are prone to do even under the best of circumstances, and then I eat. It doesn’t even have to be heartbreak anymore; having a paper due the next morning’ll do it just as well.
I didn’t realize this until this morning, as I was standing in the shower and thinking about addiction. I mean, if I’m stressed and attempting to diet, I get SO pissy. If things are all serene in my life–no problem…but things never stay totally serene for long. I’m in college, dammit. Things come up.
And the annoying thing is–the thing that really gets me–is that I can’t just totally stop eating. Not only is it necessary for my survival, but it’s part of normal human interaction (especially when that interaction is often with a bunch of gamer blokes or my little sister who can be a 14 year old, 120 pound, 5’9" vacuum cleaner).
I want to stop doing this, though. I don’t have money for programs. I don’t know the first thing about proper nutrition. And I don’t know how to get rid of the psychological need. And I hate it. I don’t know what to do, and I hate it.
…is there anything I can do? I mean, is there a pill I can take or something? Anything. I don’t even care about maintaining optimal energy and health at this point. I don’t care about deficiencies or the fact that, if I crash diet, I might go into a manic-depressive spiral due to sensitive body chemistry. I just don’t care. I want to stop, and I want to lose the weight that this has made me gain. That’s it.
I have an addiction. And it stinks.
So now what?