Is Knowing Really Half the Battle?

I’ve battled weight most of my life.  For me food is like an escape of reality, it can take me on a new adventure, warms my heart, doesn’t require feedback, is always there when I am happy, sad, feeling alone, or rejected. Food does not talk behind my back, betray my friendship or pick a fight.  I even think at times food is the most painfully constant thing in my life.  It’s always there, calling my name, enticing me from the other room, wafting its decadent aroma through the air vents. 

So by now you may realize I have a deep relationship with food that has become an issue in my life. I go to food when I am overwhelmed with life, frustrated with kids, disconnected from life, or even happily in love with John. Food has become my constant companion, trusted confidant, and deepest foe.  It has caused me health problems, self esteem issues, and inner turmoil.  I have about three wardrobes of stored outgrown clothes. 

In 1998 I was at my heaviest and by 2006 I was half my previous size, granted I went through a painful divorce, diet pills and starvation.   I was happy and had gained self esteem and pride I had never experienced.  Food was no longer ruling me; I was ruling my food intake.  Then something happened, and the old me returned, looking for my old friend, carbohydrates.  I first thought the added pound here and there was from the stress of a new marriage, blending a large family and stressful job.  Then the illness and fatigue showed up.  Three years of undiagnosed medical issues, plus stress, equals a chubby child added to my BMI, butt, thighs, belly and shoulders. 

I would love to wake up one day and fit into those tubs of stored clothes or just not ache from the added stress put on my feet and knees.  To breathe like a normal person when I walk up the stairs or bend over to tie my shoes.  But I have an addiction to food, something that is not easily fixed by giving it up “cold turkey”.  Wait, even that is referenced to food.  Food is not like alcohol, heroine, or cigarettes that one can decide to stop using all at once.  Food is something one needs to sustain life.  So what does one do? 

Yesterday was a silly wake up call.  I am home with a sick kid, cooking for the week, nibbling here and there.  Nothing quiet like hot tea with homemade bread and extra sharp cheddar to fire up the taste buds.  As my stomach becomes fuller and fuller with the swelling of bread in my belly, Tanner sends me a text, “did you know our family binges”.  Now how did he know I was in the throws of passion with my binging of bread and cheese?  Was I busted?  Had John finally plugged in one of his surveillance cameras?  Was I caught on film eating my weight in Vermont Cheddar?  Were they watching me in the waiting room of the doctor’s office?  So innocently I text back, “huh”?  It seems the medtv in the waiting room of the office our Pulmonologist shares with an OBGYN was sharing that “households may suffer from binging if they buy large quantities of food only to have it disappear quickly”.  Then within a few minutes of Tanner’s text, John posts on his facebook.  If the truth be known, I do buy large amounts of food to feed our large family. I would love to blame our household and claim that the kids are the problem.  I spent a car payment on supplying food for our family on Saturday, only to have very little left in the cabinets.  However, our household does not have a problem with binging, I do.  Let’s see if “knowing is really half the battle”.  So I have admitted I have a problem with food, maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up to fitting back into my clothes.