I had a giant light bulb go off recently.
I learned why I emotionally eat. I mean, I knew the how already – in the form of whatever sounded good at the time. But until you learn why you do something, you’re going to continue doing it out of habit. Once you recognize the why, your eyes are open to it & it’s hard to repeat it. A change has to be made.
Granted, this is just something I learned about myself. My reason isn’t necessarily your reason, but if it helps, great!
I emotionally eat because food is always there. It’s a source of comfort. It doesn’t leave me, talk about me, or hurt me (unless I eat something I really shouldn’t but that’s more of a gluten/high sugar issue). I was raised in the house of, “Finish what’s on your plate before you get up.” That, coupled with my fear of abandonment & a leftover rebellious streak to do whatever the fuck I want is my why.
That’s not easy to admit. And I’m pretty embarrassed now.
The good news is that now I know. Now I can see it. I shouldn’t turn to food to help me feel better. I need to find other sources of comfort. Easier said than done, I know, but at least I can see it. I don’t feel like I’ve got blinders on anymore.
I’m sure I’ll fuck up & swan dive off of that horse at some point. But this is the second day of me realizing my why & so far I’m doing really good.
Wish me luck.
All of this talk about “why” makes me think of the Tennyson quote, “Theirs is not to reason why. Theirs is but to do & die.”
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