And so I have a confession to make.
I self-medicate...WITH FOOD!
Something goes wrong and I think it's an excuse to eat. You get sick, "oh you deserve to treat yourself if since you're suffering." Someone hurts your feelings, "my heart is broken...chocolate will help." You're pissed off, "Screw it...I can eat whatever I want."
You think I have a problem?
I'm often reminded of that episode of Friends when Phoebe's boyfriend reminds Monica that food doesn't equal love.
I totally know how that feels though. When things seem out of control I eat as revenge. It's like I figure other people might be making decisions for me that I don't like, but dammit I'll show them and eat whatever the hell I want. Why do I not desire to take out that anger in the form of exercise?! I'd be a freakin' babe!
Okay, the more I write here, the more I think it's time to call up that shrink in Beverly Hills...
The first step is acknowledging the issue right?
I am committed to future MILFdom. I know Iive got a MILF inside me. I just need to shed the fat girl suit she seems to be wrapping herself in right now.
I'm grateful for the weekly reminder to get back in the game. And I promise to report progress soon...but it would be a lot easier if carbs didn't taste SO good.