You Sound Like An Addict....

I've been thinking about this post all day, so I'm going to squeeze it in on my lunch break. 

I ran into a friend I hadn't seen in a while yesterday and she noticed that I had lost weight.  Of course, she asked all of the standard questions.  At one point, I said "I haven't had sugar since April 25." To which she responded dismissively "You sound like an addict or something." 

Two things came into my mind.  First, if you don't want the story, don't ask for it.  Second, you're right -- I was an addict and I'll always have to remember that.  Sure, we associate the word "addiction" rather negatively with drugs, alcohol, (and according to Tiger Woods, sex).  But addiction can happen with anything -- soda, sugar, exercise, blogging, facebook, shopping... It's a frame of mind, a method of coping. Regardless of your vice, it's all in your head!

So yeah, I'm an addict.  I was addicted to poor food choices, mainly simple carbohydrates, and laziness.  I enjoyed food too much.  But looking back, I don't think I actually enjoyed the food to the same extent that I binged on it. Sure, I loved chili dogs, but did I really need a footlong ever time?  Did I really enjoy the last six inches as much as the first bite? Of course not. It was all in my head.

It's no secret that I was a frequent flyer when it comes to junk food.  It was nothing to pick up all three meals in one day at a drive through.  "Cooking" was often ordering pizza. And none of those are terrible by themselves, but moderation sure didn't enter my mind.  Mike and I don't agree on what kind of pizza is best.  So we'd usually order two - a supreme with chicken for him and a standard pepperoni for me.  And then we'd plop down on the couch, turn on TV, and eat at least half of our respective pies. Yeah, the pizza tasted great (and I still do love pizza), but not so great that I needed to eat the whole thing.  But why stop?  I was fat.  It was the only thing I could really enjoy. And that's what I did -- moderation was not in my vocabulary.  Sounds a lot like addiction, huh?  I decide to have pizza and, instead of eating one slice, I eat eight.  In today's meal plan, that would be nearly two weeks worth of carbs in one sitting.  And I wondered why I was fat. 

People who've never dealt with weight issues don't realize how much of an impact it has on your whole life.  I didn't even realize how much obesity changed my thought processes until I started to lose weight.  I hesitated to go out with friends because I couldn't ever feel comfortable in "nice" clothes (baggy clothes generally don't equate with "nice").  I strategized how to get the laundry up and down the stairs so I could reduce the number of trips (and I was winded after one flight).  I avoided photos like the bubonic plague.  I avoided eating lunch in the break room because I was too concerned with what my healthier co-workers would think about my food.  Now if that's not a whole list of mental issues, I don't know what could be.  Sure, I'm not a druggie or an alcoholic.  But my food was killing me just the same.

It's all in my head, though.  I had to figure out that yes, I am an addict.  One of the nurses at the clinic tells me every time I have a rough week that "I have an unhealthy relationship with my food."  And she's right.  But it's starting to become healthier, because I understand that now.  What gets measured gets managed--so my food journal is making me face the issues.  Weight loss is just managing an addiction -- and we all fall off the wagon before we jump back on it.  It's a long road and it never ends.  But we can get stronger if we learn to understand what we're doing.  It's not just a problem with your food -- it's a problem with yourself.  It's all in your head.

My name is Mary and I'm a junk food addict.