Life isn’t always neat and tidy.
In fact, I don't know if it ever is.
Even in my most enlightened moments when I come up for air and experience profound clarity, I still feel like there’s a current of confusion, worry, angst, or doubt lurking somewhere in the corner of my being.
This feeling of worry, overwhelm, and the unknown used to lead me to binge. I would just want something to FILL the void. I wanted a REASON to feel the way I felt, to answer the big questions I had that couldn’t be answered, to snap me out of the Great Mystery in which I was unwillingly lost.
I would resist my moments of darkness. I would dispel them, run away from them, judge myself for being “dramatic” or “emotional,” and do my best to contain and control myself and get myself "back in line."
Self-policing with food was one way I’d try to snap myself back in line. And when the food police siren went off, the inner binge rebel would retaliate. Cue the ice cream.