Coping with Hunger

The band is a tool, not an easy button. It will not make you a size 2 overnight. It will not fix why you overeat in the first place, if that is an emotional hunger. The band is a tool, not an easy button. This is repeated like a cold mantra everywhere you look in the surgical cultural centers online and in the support groups. Everyone knows this. Tonight is my first real feel for the meaning.

I want to binge. I want to go down to Gristede's and buy pizza, and chicken, and cheese, and tater tots, and ice cream, and bring them all back to my apartment, hiding the bags behind my back as I walk into the elevator, like I'm carrying crack or heroin, and then eat and eat until I feel like bursting. I want the comfort of filling my face with hot pockets, and pudding, and anything else I can find until I have to unbutton my pants and everything is gone.

I feel like a drug addict going through withdrawal. I keep staring at my refrigerator, getting up and opening the door and sitting back down again. I page through magazines, thinking about the can of soup in my cabinet, another spoonful of sugar-free jello, or better yet, walking to the corner store for a pint of ice cream. Oh wait, I already did that today. I'm such a shameful piece of shit that this afternoon I walked myself down to the corner store and bought two gatorades (what I planned on getting) to help with the dehydration, and walked back with a pint of cherry garcia. I managed about 5 or 6 bites until I was disgusted with myself (and full- I'm not sure which dominated) and marched it down to the garbage shoot. What a freaking waste.

I recognize that I'm having a bad weekend, that I'm depressed. I see it in me. I know this is about relationships; about my father dying in the hospital two states over and my lack of desire to do anything for him, about my friends (or the people I thought were my friends) and the thoughtless comments they've made, about many people, and frustration, and anger, and sadness. But the way I want to deal with this is not to read a book, or take a bath, or a walk (it's too late anyway). I want to EAT, and I confess, I don't know how to deal with this. I don't feel like I have a lifeline. No one to say- put the spoon down bitch!

Even my new fish Moo Goo (short for Gai Pan- yes, I name my fish after chinese food objects.....issues anyone?) is starting to look good. Poor thing.

Today is a bad day. I feel desperate. I feel empty. Maybe tomorrow will be better.