cocky about addictions

good evening …

this post comes to you from kelowna, in the wintry okanagan.

we were driving past a new casino yesterday. judy said something about how she didn’t care for bingo but that she likes slot machines. fred said, i don’t care, all i’m into is football betting. and i was sitting in the back of the car, all smug, thinking, “what’s your guys’ problem – me, all i need is a good book and some chocolate” – and for a minute i was seriously thinking that i was above anyone’s betting addictions. then i remembered (as if anyone needed to remember me of that one) that that was exactly my problem. my addiction is around food. i’m grateful that for the past 3, 4 years i’ve had that in check but it’s a challenge that i need to face daily, otherwise it jumps in my face when i least expect it.

as i was contemplating this picture of me lying there on the sofa with a book propped up and my hand in the chocolate, i also saw a good contrast between something that i simply like very much (reading) and something that i have an addiction problem with (food).

this is what i do around books: i’m happy every time i see one. i love, love, love libraries and bookstores. i rarely leave the house without a book (or two, or three), and there have been numerous times when i should have done something else instead of reading. but i have never hurt myself reading. i have never struggled with books. i have never compulsively read things that i didn’t even want to read. of course i’ve used books to escape – but it’s rarely been an escape that i got stuck in. i have never contemplated a book with the raging lust that can only compare to the hormonal storms of a 16-year-old. i’ve never felt the need to read secretly.

but all of that has happened with food. i’ve eaten cheese sandwiches even though i knew they could give me gallbladder attacks. i’ve felt guilty about eating. i’ve eaten to escape into better feelings and got stuck in the escape, crunching, munching, biting, swallowing. i’ve gone on cruises for just the right morsel, just the right texture, just the right feeling in my mouth, and these pursuits themselves became escapes from which i could not escape.

i am grateful that for today, i am not whipped by my food addiction anymore but still have the pleasure of reading.

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