Resistance is Futile

I want to give people a little insight into my daily struggle with food. It’s something that I’ve been giving a lot of thought to lately. Food, our source of nourishment, the fuel we need to live, the sustenance that drives us, is none of those things in my mind. Simply put it’s a source of pleasure for me. There is nothing I enjoy more than sitting down and indulging in my favourite foods. Savoury or sweet it’s irrelevant as long as there is plenty of it and I don’t have to share.

In preparing for Operation Transformation myself and the mother had a few frank conversations. I told her things I had never voiced to anyone. One admission being that if myself and the children are eating something I love, I’ll sit and hope that they won’t finish so that I can eat their leftovers. My mother and I laughed out of embarrassment and nervousness. Does that mean I’m a bad mother? Does that mean I’m selfish? Greedy? What I do know is that it’s a big problem.

So addiction is a big word at the moment. Sex addiction, internet addiction and the good traditional ones like alcohol and gambling. So it got me thinking am I addicted to food? It seemed like such a stupid statement for me to make because everyone needs food there is no escaping it. So can you be addicted to something that you need all the time anyway? I don’t have the answers.

What I do know is that I’m trying to change my dependency on food, shake up my attitudes and I’m tying to make better decisions as much as I possibly can. I don’t want to diet I just want to readjust my thinking. Eat an appropriate amount of  healthy food and cut out treats happening on a daily basis.

Day two of my new attitude adjustment saw me needing bread for the lunches. Going into the shop is a big trauma for me when I’m off chocolate and crisps. I was talking to myself in the car approaching the garage. ‘you can do this’  I picked up  the bread, half and half, cause I’m weaning onto the brown. I step slowly up the counter one foot barely in front of the other like a bride walking up the aisle. The colourful wrappers taunting me. There would be no happy ending once I got to the top. Tragic considering I love chocolate more than I’ll love any man.

I reached the assortment of confectionery and ran my poorly manicured nails across the front of a Fredo bar. I could feel the shaped chocolate under my finger and I could almost taste it in my mouth. My lips trembled and I was salivating. ‘NEXT!!’ I was awoken from my Fredo fantasy and I snapped out of my pathetic day dream. Lets face it. I’ve kissed enough frogs in my day so little Fredo was getting nowhere near my mouth. I picked up three Kinder eggs for the kids, paid and returned to the car.

Once home the kids savaged their eggs out of it and I busied myself in the kitchen to avoid biting one of their little fingers off in a frenzied attempt to get a taste of chocolate. Three children happy and 30 fingers all correct and present. I had survived a run to the shop. It may seem sad to someone who has never had food issues but to me this was a big deal. If I did it once I can do it time and time again.

The evening passed and the kids went to bed and as I was cleaning up I came across a rogue piece of Kinder on the floor. Yes…… yes I did, for the briefest of moments, regardless of who? what? or how many times it had been walked over, consider popping into my mouth. Of course I didn’t but the thought was there! Now that’s more than a passing fondness for grub.

Writing is helping me gather my thoughts and all the support from people who want me to get on top of this is really wonderful. I’m hoping come January to start a little walking group in the mornings so I’ll be haunting some of my supporters to put their legs where their mouths are. 2016 is going to be the year I loose this weight once and for all.

Thanks for reading

Be well

Ellen

 

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s