When did I start using food to get over the hump, to find a spot of happiness, to take care of discomfort or feeling off?
I’m not sure. I am seeing that I still do use it a lot. The days of huge binges and gorging to feel better and numb out are gone. However, food is my first instinct when I feel uncomfortable, cranky, or tired.
For example, I just had some grapes — I’m not hungry anymore — and know I have enough time to do a post before we leave for the school pick up — and my first thought after thinking about sitting down to type was that I needed to get some chips or something else to eat. That I needed something to “help” me write.
Writing can feel uncomfortable to do sometimes; so can cleaning, listening to my kids, stopping and playing, considering the perspective of another, taking action with finances or business or anything.
So many times when I feel uncomfortable or otherwise “bad,” I’ll get something to eat. It takes the edge off. And sometimes that helps or seems to help. Yet I don’t know if it ultimately helps.
It takes the edge off — and it makes me less sharp. I sometimes forget what I was trying to do, or stop caring. And sometimes this is good (in the short term) — and probably usually it’s not in the long term because whatever needed to get done or was bothering be — it’ll show up again. This eating to take the edge off takes me out of showing up. I head back to unthinking autopilot. This doesn’t feel good.
I’m practicing sitting and breathing when the discomfort and then pull to eat when I’m not hungry hits (and yeah, I know maybe it sounds simplistic, but it’s the best I’ve got right now). This seems to help. If I can sit for a bit, some clarity eventually breaks through.