Sometimes I wake up in the morning and feel so broken. I feel as if my heart shrank in the night and my body is withering. Melodramic? Yes, but true. I climb out of bed and I pull on my workout clothes and I speed off into the morning air. Summer is officially over so instead of sunshine I find myself wandering in the darkness. I remember vividly the look my husband gave me last night as I munched on my ice cream cone. The “are you really eating that?” look. And I am overwhelmed with guilt and the feeling of failure. Why can’t I resist treats? Why are they so alluring? Why do they make me feel so good when I know they are so bad for me?
Each day is a new day but I am “haunted by the hounds of addiction.” (Andrew Peterson wrote that). My lust for food never goes away. And sometimes I grow so weary of fighting it. But fight it I must.
Who can I blame today for my problems? Um, well, I could blame the makers of ice cream for making it so tasty. I could blame the advertisers for selling it so well. Have I mentioned lately how much I love Dairy Queen commercials? They totally make me drool. I could blame Aldi for selling it cheap. I could also blame my children for screaming for it every night when I eliminate it from the house. But thing is, I really have no one to blame but myself.
My struggle with addiction to food confounds me. I wish there was a methadone pill that would take away the cravings. But it’s not the cravings that kill me. It’s the desire buried deep in my heart that screams for relief from life’s problems. Food numbs me. After I eat ice cream I am able to fall asleep peacefully. When I skip it I actually get jittery and struggle to rest. Now I know that if I can make myself go without it for a week or two, I can get past it. I’ve done enough reading to understand the way my brain responds to sugar and once I have lubricated my neural pathways, it takes “a minute” to set them right again.
Now some people tell me, “Margaret, you have to treat yourself now and again.” And that’s true. My fundamental problem is, when I treat myself, I can’t stop. If I eat an ice cream cone each night, then I need 2 the next night. Or, I’ll double down on chocolate syrup or something else equally bad for my body. My tolerance for indulgence will continue to climb until I literally cannot find a feeling of satisfaction. That is why I got to be as heavy as I was. Some people get sick when they overdo it with sweets. Not me. I used to make cookies and sit down and eat 2 dozen. And that was AFTER I ate my dinner. Crazy, huh?
This morning I remembered something glorious. My struggle with these demons will not last forever. While I am on this earth it will be difficult but when I die, and God gives me a new body, I won’t fight with my desire to overeat anymore. It was such a wonderfully happy thought that I started to cry. Some people might call my faith foolishness but that’s okay. Everyone is entitled to their beliefs. Mine gives me peace. I literally cannot imagine living with this curse forever. And I have peace knowing it is temporary.
My husband is so good to me. Last night we discussed my ice cream problem. (Keep in mind that he loves ice cream too). He reminded me that my children will not die without ice cream in the house. He told me he can make the sacrifice to live without it to save me from the temptation(sometimes I do have the willpower to resist but it’s difficult). He said eating ice cream every night is “a bad habit we’ve all gotten into.” And he said, “I will deal with the children when they start crying about it.” And I was so relieved. Thank God for him. Even better, he doesn’t judge me when he finds me licking an ice cream cone as I hide in the back of my room. What more can you ask for from a mate?
I realize this post isn’t very inspiring. I’m sorry about that. I feel like I’m letting everyone down. Unfortunately, this is my daily struggle. And while there are many good things happening in my life, and I feel like a baby whining about food, this is my reality. I hate that food takes up such a large space in my brain and I truly wish I didn’t think about it all the time. But there is grace too for this. For others who continue to struggle, please don’t give up. I’m not giving up either. Defeat is temporary. Giving up is permanent. Amen to that!
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