Normal?

I'm not normal. 

Let me clarify, I'm not normal about food.  I think about food constantly, no matter where I am, the time of day or when I last stuffed something in my mouth, you can ask at anytime and I can tell you, I'm thinking about food.  Of course, that's if I'd dare admit it.  Because how embarrassing is it that I can probably tell you that food is on my mind more often throughout the day than my family?  That's a guess, but I'm betting if I did keep track, making hash marks everytime I thought of either, I'd be further humiliated.

Most people (normal people) eat a meal or a snack when they're hungry and that's it.  No further thought of when their next meal might be, or if they think they really got enough or would anybody notice if they just grabbed a little bit more of whatever was out there, just in case.  Just in case?  Yep, just in case every food selling establishment in civilization suddenly shut down and food would be totally unavailable.  What???  It could happen.  In my worst nightmare.

Normal people feel full and satisfied after eating their meal or snack.  They sit back, appreciate what they just enjoyed and think about anything BUT more food.  Me?  Not so much.  I don't feel full.  I mean, I don't recognize nor respect the feeling of being full.  Just because my stomach is distended and my clothes feel snug, I just am not sure I'm really full, I can probably put just a bit more in. 

Because, you never know.  All the food selling establishments in civilization might suddenly shut down.  And I'd never feel full (or imagine what full felt like) ever again.  So, like a military strategist, I start or get halfway through a meal or snack and I'm already planning the next pit stop.  The next survival post.  And trust me, I can afford to miss a few of those.

I know what normal should be with food, but in all honesty, I don't think I can ever remember NOT being somewhat obsessed by food.  I have gone two whole days with exercising what I believe to be awesome self control.  If I didn't bring it, I didn't eat it.  But something strange is happening.  Instead of being proud of myself and celebrating this, I feel a little bit anxious.  Maybe more than a little bit.  I mean, what if the kids finish off the goldfish crackers before I get a chance to get some?  Or what if the candy in the cupboard (that's been there for a while) gets eaten and I've MISSED OUT???????  I feel like I might miss out on something.  And that's not normal.

I need to study normal more...and figure out how to try it on without having a panic attack that sends me to the nearest fast food restaurant so I can shove a hamburger meal down my throat before going home to dinner.  Because that's happened.  Embarrassing.

And I'd like to be normal....at least about food.

Quieting the Dialogue and Doritos

One of the things that has been going on in my head for who knows how long is this horrible dialogue:  You're fat. You look horrible.  Your thighs are too big.  Double chins attack! Your face is fat.  And on and on.  I never really realized how often that was going through my head until today.

Today I went to another meeting.  I took a little longer lunch and spent the hour with a group of women who helped me quietly understand that this dialogue, it's mine.  Not anyone else's, just mine.  I'm my worst enemy, the biggest critic I have and the most cruel. 

Not that it's just like "Voila!!!" and it's gone.  But today I tried hard to recognize when I was doing this to myself.  I kept a little journal with me all day and in addition to tracking my eating, I tracked my feelings (sample:  OMG! DORITOS!!!! Someone put out nacho cheeseDORITOS!!!!) yes, foodcentric, but the reality of my easily diverted train of thought when something as yummy as nacho cheese Doritos make an appearance.  I'm not even joking.  Most girls heads turn at some beautiful jewelry, I'm a sucker for salty, cheesy snacks.  So no, it's not going to be easy to change the dialogue that fast, but I made a good attempt today.

As I tracked my food, how I felt and when I was having a Dorito moment, I realized that if I just held on a few extra minutes...I was okay.  No, I'm not kidding.  I didn't have to be hauled away by ambulance because my heart had stopped beating....I was okay.  I know, I'm still reeling at that too.  I have a thousand miles to go yet, but I'm taking the first few steps and with just that, I had a peaceful few hours without the madness.

I want more of those!