FOOOOOODDDD

We’re at the end of the road and on to the last item of my “Sick of My Own Bullshit” List:

5) FOOD

And just like Boyz II Men sang this last item is something I still can’t seem to let go of.

Food…

Man. I honestly just LOVE food. As George Bernard Shaw said,” there is no love sincerer than the love of food.” Think about how wonderful it is; it offers sustenance, comfort and nostalgia. It can be a portal back to a certain time in your life, a gooey grilled cheese being just as delightful as foie gras. The snap of the skin of a grape before the juice rushes into your mouth, the feel of butter dribbling down your chin as you crunch into an ear of summer corn, or the steam of hot cocoa when you are curling up with a book on a frosty day are all parts of every day life that can almost make it worth living. In times of deep depression food has been the only refuge, only once did my depression take even that away from me. It’s not just humans who take pleasure in their food either, the look on my cat’s face after he eats a particular food is sheer bliss. Most food can be marvelous, even SPAM. I just wish I could figure out a happy medium between enjoying it and abusing it.

Until this post I had never really thought about food as something I have a “relationship” with, but I do (we all do) and these past two years has shined a light on how fucked up that relationship actually is.  Unlike other vices or addictions (anything that causes you to feel guilt but persist in doing) it is not something you can eliminate or cut out entirely; it is something you must face daily. Everyone’s day is filled with decisions about what to eat but when you’re trying to eat a certain way to lose or gain weight you view food but as something else entirely, it becomes a harrowing mental game that can affect not only your life but the lives of those around you. For those of us who have dieted we know it is akin to a competitive sport, with a high amount of energy and focus going in to food prep, resisting temptation and staying diligent and persistent day in and day out. You try to get your mindset to view food purely as fuel, to think about how it is benefitting your body, how you feel better, you focus on the nutrition, the macros, the calories or the points but if you’re like me, a person who thoroughly enjoys eating as a fully sensory engagement, it is pretty impossible to do that 24/7.

Society tends to think those who abuse food lack willpower but that is far from the truth. Or at least I seem to think so. Am I really supposed to give up one of my main enjoyments for the rest of my life in order to look a certain way? How come even when I practice moderation I feel guilty as though I’ve overindulged? Many who have issues with food have often practiced extreme diets, experimented with anorexia or bulimia and are hyper aware of what they should and shouldn’t be eating. They know how to use their hand for measurements, know what the nutrition content of a cup of a certain brand of cereal is off the top of their head and have created tricks to help them stay the course. Lack of will power, pshhhh. Please.

My relationship with food has little do with a lack of will power, but with a feeling of control and I don’t mean out of control, I mean in it. Competitive eating is a sport, in order to get through a large amount of food you have to get in the zone, similar to an artist or an athlete. I have practiced both a wide array or art and athletics and I can attest the zone is pretty interchangeable- it is a narrowing of focus, an enjoyable numbness to the outside world that taps you in to another mental space. The problem is that unlike art or athletics, overeating has negative repercussions that last long after you’re out of  the zone.

In a recent talk with my mother I found out my eating style changed when I entered grade school which happened simultaneously to when my younger brother was born. While I am a bottomless pit when it comes to food my brother has always been an intuitive eater, stopping when he loses interest which is what we are biologically meant to do. As a child I tended to have healthier lunches than most of my peers with carrots replacing chips and grapes instead of cookies; even candy was off limits except for special occasions or the movies (my mom would be horrified by how much candy I eat as a 35 year old…). I wasn’t deprived by any means from indulgences but I definitely abused food when I wasn’t being monitored. My mother put on additional 40 lbs after her pregnancy due to stress from my brother’s consistent cries and she self-medicated with Cadbury chocolate bars. I have always been close with my mother, to the point of co-dependency, and with my trying to share the burden of her stress she thinks I started to overeat after observing her. It manifested over the years into something else, unrelated to her but to my relationship with myself. My most recent weight gain can not only be attributed to medication changes but also to my being rejected when I was at my smallest. It’s fucked up, I know, but if I’m not good enough when I resist food why should I continue to resist it?

New food was introduced as my brother aged, snacks and sweets began to be kept in the house, but unlike my brother I did not have an off switch and my parents would try to keep tabs on what I ate. I would sneak down at night and eat secretly, knowing to stay away from individually wrapped items that could be used as evidence against me. I would choose items my father liked so their disappearance would be attributed to him. I rarely ate a large quantity of any one item, but grazed. I think the early diets and restrictions made me more hungry for the experience of eating  than for any particular food. I sometimes wonder if I was feeding another hunger, perhaps I was just seeking comfort where I knew it would be found.

Often times I will notice I am full but want to keep eating due to the texture of the food or the smell or flavor. Or in order to get the item out of my house, so I only need to feel guilty for one day – an ex of mine called this a fat kid mentality. Don’t worry, he had been a fat kid too, so it wasn’t a barb. I’ve dated a few men who have had strange relationships with food, a few were anorexic and filled with self loathing, but then would inevitably binge while others knew the proper way to eat but like me enjoyed food and had a tendency to fall off the wagon after a long sabbatical of “clean eating” and abuse it.

In a recent appointment with my Psychiatrist I spoke of my overeating having changed and asked for ideas on how I can get to a point where I can have a healthy relationship with food. “But that’s what is great about you, you go all in and truly enjoy the experience of life!”  While her statement is true, and introduces a different way to view my relationship with food, how do I enjoy the experience and recognize when it is over? How can I be satisfied with a taste, how can I stop when I am full,  how can I maintain one style of eating for the rest of my life? I am tired of diets, of lifestyle changes. I don’t think I have it in me to do much more, I meal prep, I eat healthy for a majority of my meals but I no longer prohibit myself from certain foods.

It does make sense we have relationships with food, think about how often you have said something “tasted like sex” or that you’d marry a certain dish. Think about how excited you get at a restaurant when you see your food coming, there is a whole meme that says marry someone who makes you feel that way! I know that I am far from alone in this weird back and forth I have with food, where I eat like a saint one day and a sinner the next but I’d like to get to a place where it is something I can enjoy while still being able to button my jeans.  Perhaps I just need to buy more leggings.