My eating is an addiction.

I want that immediate pleasure from food.

I want that instant satisfaction.

And I wanted it yesterday.

And every day I wake up telling myself that today is going to be the day where I eat less.

Because that’s what any diet comes down to.

That’s what losing weight comes down to.

With all the gimmicks and glitter the diet industry has, it comes down to something that simple.

Eating less.

So, I noticed the last few weeks I haven’t been eating nearly as much as I was the week before.

My pain levels were so intense The past few weeks that I didn’t even want to eat the last ten days or so.

I would eat just to have enough energy for the day and not get a worse headache.

Since, my pain has receded back to normal for me levels, still there, still constant, but tolerable enough to function, I can start to think about why I eat so much.

And it’s not like these thoughts have never crossed my mind.

Not like I’ve never thought of eating less or seeing food as an addiction.

But I think it finally just struck me that I see food like a fucking drug.

Because it’s so satisfying.

I get satisfaction with eating and getting super full.

And it’s a continuous cycle.

My body is constantly wanting more food.

I’m constantly eating to feel something besides what’s in my head or my pain levels.

And then I’m in more pain because I’m gaining weight.

And then the weight gain leads to a flare which leads to more pain and even more stress on my joints.

And then the weight gain leads to even more self loathing and hatred of myself because of how I look.

But food makes me feel good.

Temporarily.

I get happy and cozy and sleepy after I eat.

It warns me up and cradles me.

And it is necessary for survival.

But I have got to start living my life in better moderation.

The way I eat is unsustainable.

The types of food I eat are unsustainable.

And instead of eating the right things for energy, I eat the wrong things for pure pleasure.

Giving zero fucks on caring if the food is good for my body.

Be happy I’m eating anything at all, for sure.

But my portion sizes have been way out of control again too – the past three or four months or so.

Since the whole introduction of Gabapentin to my system it got worse.

And I know pain makes me not give a single fuck.

I want food just as bad as I want a cigarette most days.

Different feelings, cravings, same satisfaction when I cave.

I’m reeling for something tonight.

It’s Monday night.

I stopped to get a couple vape carts at 7/11 earlier and was getting down on myself about that.

So I bought a few packages of cookies too.

Grow that shame.

Encourage those self harming behaviors.

I usually would’ve eaten all of them.

Instead I ate two of each.

The rest are sitting on my counter.

It’s taking everything I have to leave them there.

It’s taking everything I have to not smoke a cigarette right now too.

I’m feeling better physically this week and now I’m craving a high.

An escape.

I need to feel good after feeling so bad for so many weeks.

Regardless of how fast and fleeting it is.

I don’t want to ruin my streak with a cigarette.

But I also don’t feel like black and whites in life are healthy.

Smoking is obviously not healthy, that’s not my point.

My point is that moderation is crucial with everything.

With food – the very substance we need to stay alive, can be overdone quickly.

I can feel hungry and not eat immediately.

Though it takes a lot of self discipline to not instantly turn to food.

And I do overdo it often.

And smoking all the time everyday is just as bad and even worse for you than overeating.

But caving in on a cigarette every once in a while doesn’t make me a bad person.

It makes me human.

It keeps me from fucking up in bigger ways.

So I just smoked a cigarette.

And it was super gross, ha!

So I’m glad I did it.

Reinforced my decision to quit.

I used to love the way cigarettes taste.

It tastes like how the basement smelled in the house I grew up in in Michigan.

Musty and earthy.

But I don’t want another one.

It’s the next day (Tuesday) and I feel like I’m waiting for something.

And I have no idea what that something is.

The weeks keep passing by and I’m still in this apartment.

Still not going out.

Still not many friends.

Till anxious as fuck.

And I know part of that has to do with my weight right now.

I’m not bed or house ridden or anything like that.

I’m not weighing my heaviest.

I still lost 70 some odd pounds from my heaviest.

But I am embarrassed about how I look.

And it doesn’t help my self esteem.

I don’t even want to take photos of myself.

Now it’s Thursday and I’m still feeling very anxious about everything.

Still feeling like I’m waiting for something.

This political climate is scaring me.

As I sit and stress about it today, I’m overeating.

I just did, and knew it, and I didn’t stop myself.

Now it’s 3:26pm and I can’t eat anything else today, I’ve already eaten over 2500 calories worth of food just now, all at once.

Fuck my life.

Fuck this shit.

Why do I do this?

I’ll be fine for the rest if the day, but I’m also not gonna exercise enough to get all of that out of my system.

I don’t know why I won’t.

I just won’t.

I don’t care enough.

I have all of the tools, I just don’t use them.

It takes a lot of effort to use them.

Maybe writing about this this week will boost my motivation and drive.

Hopefully.

I usually just don’t care.

I have walked Bruce a lot.

I do walk a lot.

And I’ll walk him again today.

Though both of us are limping sometimes.

But how do I get the motivation to really change?

How do I care enough to stop overeating?

I’m unsustainable right now.

I feel gross today.

It’s only been a few days since I started eating like trash again.

Just like, yesterday.

So I need to curb it again.

Immediately.

Tomorrow I’m going to do better.

– Keren