Addicted to Food

I'm sitting here watching this new show on OWN, Addicted to Food.  This first episode deals with emotions and why people eat, don't eat, purge, or whatever.  Of course, this got me thinking about why I overeat and continue to do so.

Please don't get me wrong - I love my family (most of them....lol) and I was given every opportunity to do whatever I wanted growing up.  My parents did the best they knew how and I don't know where I'd be today without the support I had and continue to have.  But doesn't every person think their family is somewhat dysfunctional?

I have been overweight since I was 4 or 5.  I can remember my kindergarten boyfriend asking my neighbor "who the little fat girl is."  (I guess he liked it....funny how things change, now he's married to a beautiful hot chick!)  When you are little, things like emotions don't register like they do now.  I've often wondered why people have to own up to having emotional problems rather than just admitting they like food and like to eat it.  Simple, isn't it?  I'm fat because I love food.  Duh.  Winning!  (sorry, couldn't help myself!)

Fact is, I eat when I'm happy, sad, bored, or pissed off.  There have been two times in my adult life where I was so stressed out I couldn't eat - when the house burned down and right before and after my husband was arrested.  Then after the initial shock of those two events wore off, I was depressed and just ate and slept.  A lot of both, for months at a time. 

While there are many things that stick out in my mind as to why I'm an emotional eater, I'm going to address the earliest one that I remember.  In first grade, my parents put me on a diet.  The diet worked - parents of my friends noticed and always offered positive words of encouragement and always made sure they had healthy snacks for me when I was around.

My parents had to go away for a weekend and left us with our Auntie Barbara.  Well, I guess she didn't agree with the diet or she didn't want to "punish" me by making me eat healthy when everyone else was eating good Southern cooking.  Haha.  That lady can cook!  So the whole weekend I was allowed to eat whatever, whenever.

Upon the return of my 'rents, they were pissed that I had spent the weekend eating.  I totally remember the lecture I got when they got home and the shame I felt for not following the diet.  They gave up then too.  No more carefully portioned meals, no more encouragement.  They just gave up. 

Two things stick out the most in my mind about that weekend.  What did they really expect from a SEVEN year old?  I ate what I was given, and indulged because I was a little kid that had been on a diet forever.  (That's a long time to a seven year old.)  And, why did they give up on me?

That last question is the one that brings tears to my eyes.  Did they think I was just hopeless, destined to be fat? Why didn't they explain to me that I had to go back to eating right?  Its not like I could argue.....they are the ones that fixed the meals, etc.  Was it just too hard for them to cater to one kid when they had two other ones without weight problems?

One emotional episode down, 5 million more to go.  Its a whole cycle, you know.  In the morning I'm on a diet.  At some point in the day, I'm ashamed I can't stick to it so I eat.  Its such a wonderful life.