Sunday, June 26, 2011

Hi! My name is...

Naomi and I'm addicted to food.

Isn't admitting you have a problem the first step in recovery?

Well, I've KNOWN that I've had a food addiction for quite a while now. Just like the worst heroin junkie or the biggest drunk, when life isn't going according to "plan" or stress gets to be overwhelming or I'm just plain bored, I tend to look first to my drug of choice, food, for the solution. When I'm upset about something and start eating, I can actually feel a physical release. It's almost like there is only so much room in my body...and it can either be full of negative emotions or food...but not both at the same time.

Those of you that struggle with the same issue KNOW exactly what I'm talking about. If you don't get it, don't try to understand. Just be thankful that this particular issue isn't yours.

I've been in what I can only describe as a state of mourning for the past few months. No, nobody I know died. Sadly, for the time being, however, I've lost them just the same. In order to avoid dealing with the current reality of this situation, I've been eating myself into a state of nearly catatonic oblivion. It's embarrassing to admit, but it's true.

A couple of things happened recently that I think are setting me back on the right path (assuming I was ever on it in the first place.)

1. While browsing through one of the many magazines I inherit on a monthly basis from my Mom, I came across an article about food addiction. In the article, they recommended a book. I ordered it for my Sony Reader (like a Kindle or Nook). I was surprised to realize that the author apparently has complete access to my every thought.

Check it out:

2. Someone recently gave me an invaluable piece of advice regarding the depressing situation I've been dealing with. In a nutshell, they explained to me that I had two choices. Since I can't "fix" anyone's problems besides my own, I can either sacrifice myself to the dungeon of WAITING TO PICK UP THE PIECES of another person's broken life, or I can start living my own life to the best of my abilities.

I've chosen to start living my life again. It's cliche, but I can't truly be around to pick up pieces if I shatter myself in the meantime.

I believe that it's time to get back to work shattering the fat cells in my ass instead.

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