overeating

Eating Dis Order of Fries

It’s about time we dive into one of my less flattering attributes: the inability to stop eating when I’m full.

I recently tweeted:

Actually not sure if I want you in my life if you say no to free pizza logs.

Actually not sure if I want you in my life if you say no to free pizza logs.

Which is embarrassingly true. No matter how full I am, if there is food available to me that looks mildly appetizing, I’m proba- definitely going to be nose-deep in it in a matter of seconds. There’s something in me that says, “Don’t do it,” but the part of me that says, “Screw it. Eat the Big Mac,” is a bigger bully (and probably just bigger in general, judging by her eating habits).

It even gets to the point where I’m uncomfortable. Last week I nearly ate myself into a comatose after shoving my face with three pieces of spaghetti pie (curse my boyfriend for being a good cook).

Now, this may not seem to connect to my stress levels. However, my over-eating directly influences my unnecessary meltdowns seeing as it leads to at least three, “I’M SO FAAAAAATTTTTT,” mental breakdowns each week. My friends and family can vouch for me on that (God bless them).

By no means am I overweight, and I’m well aware of that. At the same time, I do have the eating habits of a toddler who refuses to eat anything that resembles a vegetable. It’s honestly like my body rejects nutritious food but gladly welcomes any sort of artificial cheese product. I’m not kidding, when I decided to write a blog, someone suggested that I write about my passion for Cheetos, cheese balls, etc. That’s a sick joke.

When I was younger I had my cholesterol tested, although I can’t remember exactly why. All I remember was the results coming back and the doctors pretty much telling me that I had ice cream running through my veins instead of blood. You would think that would be a wake-up call.

Photo from njfitnessfactory.com

Photo from njfitnessfactory.com

So, my question is: Why haven’t I learned when to say no? After I’ve cried my weekly fat tears, why don’t I decline the Krispy Kreme? When I know my arteries are clogging as I type, why can’t I walk away from the free samples in Wegmans? What separates me from the people who only allow themselves three lettuce leaves and one cup of quinoa a day?

It’s probably something chemical in my brain, or at least I’ll convince myself that’s what it is instead of admit I have a total lack of self-control.

I always wonder at the same time, though, why I would ever deprive myself of something I really want. If I want to go to Taco Bell for dinner four times this week, what is stopping me? Honestly, that’s probably the rational of any functioning addict. That’s scary.

Maybe I’ll try to eat healthier. Maybe I’ll even blog about my trials and tribulations as a faux health nut.

Probably not, though.

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