Don’t do it Jo. Don’t buy it.
But it’s for the kids.
You always say that, but you know you’re going to end up having most of it yourself.
No I won’t. Not this time.
It’s the kind of internal dialogue I used to have every time I passed by the Two Buck Chuck at my local Trader Joe’s. Well, except for the part that it was for the kids.
But that mental tug of war, though long gone when it comes to the booze aisle, is still alive and well when it comes to my current drug of choice: food.
More precisely, carbs.
I held the four pack of giant chocolate chip muffins in my hand, my intentions seemingly pure; I wanted to treat my kids.
But I knew better.
I should’ve put them down.
I should’ve walked away.
But I didn’t
I took them to the checkout, and I bought them, and I brought them into my house where I knew they wouldn’t last very long.
And sure enough
In the silence of the night
I snuck into the kitchen as my loved ones slept
Grabbed two of those muffins
Locked myself in the bathroom
And perched upon my toilet
I shoved them into my mouth so fast I could barely breathe (let alone taste them)
It’s how I used to drink
Literally wanting to fill myself up so that everything I should have been feeling was buried so far beneath the booze that I wouldn’t be able to find it even if I tried
And while a chocolate chip muffin is not the same as a bottle of cheap Merlot
There are so many similarities
The need for immediate gratification
The temporary high
I know that when I ate those muffins last night (if you can even call that eating) I was trying to diffuse a crap load of
Man. Those muffins didn’t stand a chance.
That’s what happens when I live life as if I’m in charge and things don’t go my way.
It’s what happens when I look for love and respect and acceptance in all of the wrong places, demand those things from people that are unable to give them, expect others to change because I think they should.
It’s what happens when I’m too busy pointing out the faults in others instead of looking inward and owning what is mine.
I couldn’t undo mowing down those muffins when I woke up today.
I let myself feel gross and guilt-ridden for a few minutes (especially when I saw the crumbs on the bathroom floor).
Then I told the shame to go to hell, went to a meeting, and walked a brisk mile.
And while I’m well aware that chocolate chip muffins at midnight are far less potent then a bottle of wine
I’d like to get to a place in my life where I can enjoy my carbs at the table, in the revealing nature of daylight
where I can eat them, not inhale them
share them with friends (maybe not)
and put them down when I’m full
Because you and I both know that nothing good can come of continuing to eat them on the toilet.
Except for maybe efficiency.
What’s your drug of choice?
(Shut up. We all have one.)