Autopilot

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gone on autopilot with my eating junk.   It’s like I black out and shovel it in like shoveling coal into a furnace (Wish I burned the junk like coal and give out heat instead it ending up as adipose tissue).

I sat with a group of ladies last night around a table chock full of snacks.  Mind you, some of them were healthy, like strawberries, apples, trail mix, crackers.  Noooooo…..I gravitated toward the cookies (the ones that were heavily frosted with the tasteless cookie — those are my favorite — I just eat the frosting and throw out the cookie when no one’s looking).  Experimenting with dipping peanut butter filled pretzels in caramel that’s meant for dipping apples.  Chowing down on praline-covered cashews.  All on autopilot while in conversation around the table.  Autopilot.

I think if I were to eat this stuff deliberately, enjoy it, and wash it down with coffee I think I would eat far less.  The undisciplined side of me says, “You were deprived during your childhood of this stuff.  It was your only comfort in your younger years (and truthfully it still is today), and I deserve this comforting high.  So, in it goes.

Today, as I write this, I think I’m hungover from all the crap I’ve been eating this weekend.  I don’t have much energy and I just want to stay in my room this morning.  I know I should go to worship, but I just want to be left alone.  Introverts are like that.  We can take people just so much, then we’ve got to get away from them.  Too much stimulus coming into the brain.  Maybe that’s another reason why I compulsively eat — as a temporary escape.  At least I’m not eating while I type this.  Maybe that’s it — when I get the urge to compulsively eat, I blog.  Now, I need to figure out when I’m on the go and I want to compulsively eat, a method of escape I can do on the run, or when I’m supposed to be doing something else.

What am I running away from, anyway?

 

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