Thursday, June 25, 2015

self destruction in the form of emotional eating

They tell me now, that emotional eating is considered a Mental Disorder and there is apparently medication for it.......
WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN THE PAST 15 YEARS OF MY LIFE???!
Honestly. Im sure my mother could probably tell you the exact second of the exact day when I started eating to encumber my emotional instability, I on the other hand just know that if I am in the slightest bit of an unhappy mood, do not, and i will not repeat, DO NOT get in between me and my fucking cookies and chips and chocolate and cake and gummies and sour candies and. . . so on and so forth. (Hopefully you've gotten the picture by now)
Not that I have any interest in being labelled with yet another disorder and having another pill added to my already hefty pill case. But really?!
And I mean, that occasional emotional eating binge... not a big deal. Everybody needs to have a day here and there. I know its not pretty to admit, but I have a problem. I have an emotional eating binge fest at least once a day, everyday, every month. Is it just habit for me now, even I dont know.
This is not a new thing in my life, because I can acknowledge that this is something I have done for at LEAST the last 10 years if not more. Is there an app for that?! *haha, sorry. technology humor*
Okay, so I know I know, this is not really a laughing matter. But How else am I supposed to deal with all of this?
I could go into a downward spiral and eat that unopened package of Oreos sitting across from me... but then doesnt that defeat the whole purpose of saying loud and proud and letting my freak flag fly about how I admit it. I have an eating problem... and not an anorexia I dont eat problem, but an I eat WAY TOO MUCH and ignore the unhealthy factor of what I eat and the proportions of consumption.
Because apparently eating a bag of chips to myself and a box of cookies to myself and then going out for candy and ice cream is something one person is NOT supposed to do in the span of an hour.

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

lets start this over

There are 2 things I can tell you about myself with absolute certainty.
1- I love my dog.
2- If you ask me what the #1 thing in my life is, the answer is my dog.
After that in no particular order comes a small list of other things that in my eyes will never be as important as my dog.
Nova came to me at a point and time in my life where I was struggling so heavily and trying to hide that struggle that I was not sure about how I was going to continue on. She was supposed to be a gift for my daughter, for us to share, or to replace me if I happened to not be there anymore.
Instead, she became MY dog. She didnt leave my side and still hasnt left my side, and has basically been the only thing keeping me alive for the past 5 years.
Not that people want to hear that. But she has been. For such a small creature she sure gives out an enormous about of unconditional and pure love. She is as loyal as anyone or anything could be and always know when I need her the most.
I do not dress her up in frilly dresses and carry her around in my purse, nor do i believe in a doggy manicure... that shits just weird. But I have no shame in obnoxiously cuddling with her and doggy baby talking with her sometimes because she is in all sense of the word my little princess, and I like her to know that!
If it comes down to it, I will chose my dog over you. So its best not to make it come down to that, because it, for me, is no contest. Nova has never once judged me or turned away from me, she doesnt care that Im 1000 ways fucked up in the head and some days dont get out of bed to do anything but take her pee and feed her. She wont turn her back on me if I decide certain things and she certainly wont give up on me or disown me because she refuses to acknowledge and educate herself on my mental illness.
Nova is better than that.
She is 5 pounds of all bark and no bite.
She is my sweet little princess.
And she will ALWAYS be my #1.