Let's take Sunday for example. I had a horrible food day. I had a mini Payday, several pieces of toast (toasted sandwich thins actually), some rice & some turkey. Oh, then there were those little Parmesan toast thingies from Spain. I ate too much food. Normally I am very, very controlled with my food. Like OCD controlled. I log every last thing that goes into my pie hole. Everything is weighed, measured & portioned. EVERYTHING.
The food seems like the only thing I have complete control over in my life. Yeah, I know, not really a healthy way to look at things, but it is the truth. I can't control who likes me or the events that are going to take place in a day or even who is going to stab me emotionally, but I can control what I consume. I can keep the calories & carbohydrates in check. Only I can let me get fat again. No one else can do it for me. I am the one in control of that.
Honestly, it is probably one of the only times I actually want to be in complete & total control. That may sound contradictory to earlier statements, but let's be honest here.... I can't control what is going to happen to me. I can't control who is going to find me attractive or who is going to like my brash personality. And really, fuck 'em if they don't. Their loss. Kind of lonely with that thinking, but it is just the way I am.
You know what the awesome thing about food is & what makes it so hard to fight the awesome? It rarely lets you down. Food is a constant in your life. When shit was bad all those years the food was my constant. The cheesecake never changes. You know what you are going to get. The food is never going to yell at you, blame you, tell you that you are stupid. The food is just there. Always there. Always quiet.
There are still times that I really, really want an In 'N Out animal style burger & fries. Every once in a while I will have one. However I don't let myself have one every other day. I love good pasta. I had about a half an order of pasta last week & that was the first time since January. Bread. Holy fuck I love the bread. If there is some on the table when I go out to eat I will have a few pieces, but that's it. I don't even keep it in the house any longer. I am that fucking boring.
Even when I went on vacation I didn't let myself go nuts. Ate more than I should have & even had a pizza one night, but still managed to lose weight. At the same time I still saw my OCD tendencies creeping in. Particularly when I went to lunch with a friend one day. It was to a place we have here in Vegas. I went for the one thing on the menu that I knew fit into my way of eating. I was on vacation for fuck's sake & I couldn't even eat badly.
Don't worry, I still love food. I just don't hang out with it all the time like I once did. It is a toxic, but necessary relationship. I've been forced to put parameters on it, but we still party on occasion.
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