sittin' in front of the computer
Dec. 11th, 2002 09:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
iamomI feel like it's been awhile since I've just sat here and surfed the web and caught up with my e-mails and stuff. I think it has been awhile. Feels good to waste some time on here for a little while.
B sent me on this huge mind fuck yesterday when we were talking about food. The night before last, we had an overweight friend over who [I think] obsesses about the underlying psychological issues that have contributed to her weight gain over the past few years. Now don't get me wrong, I recognize easily enough that I also have something psychological going on with my eating habits (who doesn't?), but my goal for the past couple of years has been to transcend them instead of think about them all the time. I've just found that it's too easy to sit around and say, "This is why I do this, this is why I do that, my childhood did this to me, and that, and..." If you're doing something in your life that you think is wrong, then you should just try to change it, regardless of its cause. (If it's a major issue you might need counseling or something, but leaving that aside, most of us just have petty psychological hang-ups that we would do well to discard out of hand in favour of personal peace of mind, you know?)
Anyway, the thing that threw me for a loop last night was when B mentioned in passing what she thought my psychological connection with food was. She made this simple connection to my childhood, when I was abused by a stepparent and emotionally neglected by my mother, and she said that I developed a tangible emotional relationship with food to comfort and console me during those rough times. Now, I knew I was attached to food and all that, but I had honestly never made the specific connection that I used food as a companion and as a friend when I was feeling neglected and uncared-for. I had just thought that I had developed really bad eating habits from my obese mother, not thinking that I was actually developing a deep friendship with food along with the way.
When I think about my teenage years, especially after I moved in with my dad in grade 8 when things had reached a fever-pitch at my mom's place, I can remember countless nights when my dad was working and I would literally have a food party with myself in front of the TV. I would lay out a huge spread on the kitchen counter with bread, cheese, crackers, meat, cereal, juice and pop, and I would make up trays of food for myself to eat between commercials all night long. It's easy to remember my feelings of comfort as I did that, and how secure I felt food to be in my life -- I could always turn to it, and it was always there. What a tremendous relationship I had with it.
In my late teens, I came at least partially to terms with the abuse I suffered as a child, and I made a solemn vow to break the cycle right at that point and never to be violent with my children in any way whatsoever. I also made a vow to spread as much peace and compassion outwardly to others as I possibly could, because I wanted to try and swing the balance to the other side as much as I could from that point forward. Only recently have I made a similar resolve about food, and so far, it hasn't been too difficult. (Of course, detachment helps, too.) I'm not perfect with my food, which is only natural, but I think I've finally stopped looking for a friend in my food. As my old bud Dr Phil says, I'm eating to live now, instead of living to eat.
If there was a way I could spend my time helping fat people get through this stuff, I'd be really happy to do it. I know I'd dig doing that more than my web-based research consulting gig.
B sent me on this huge mind fuck yesterday when we were talking about food. The night before last, we had an overweight friend over who [I think] obsesses about the underlying psychological issues that have contributed to her weight gain over the past few years. Now don't get me wrong, I recognize easily enough that I also have something psychological going on with my eating habits (who doesn't?), but my goal for the past couple of years has been to transcend them instead of think about them all the time. I've just found that it's too easy to sit around and say, "This is why I do this, this is why I do that, my childhood did this to me, and that, and..." If you're doing something in your life that you think is wrong, then you should just try to change it, regardless of its cause. (If it's a major issue you might need counseling or something, but leaving that aside, most of us just have petty psychological hang-ups that we would do well to discard out of hand in favour of personal peace of mind, you know?)
Anyway, the thing that threw me for a loop last night was when B mentioned in passing what she thought my psychological connection with food was. She made this simple connection to my childhood, when I was abused by a stepparent and emotionally neglected by my mother, and she said that I developed a tangible emotional relationship with food to comfort and console me during those rough times. Now, I knew I was attached to food and all that, but I had honestly never made the specific connection that I used food as a companion and as a friend when I was feeling neglected and uncared-for. I had just thought that I had developed really bad eating habits from my obese mother, not thinking that I was actually developing a deep friendship with food along with the way.
When I think about my teenage years, especially after I moved in with my dad in grade 8 when things had reached a fever-pitch at my mom's place, I can remember countless nights when my dad was working and I would literally have a food party with myself in front of the TV. I would lay out a huge spread on the kitchen counter with bread, cheese, crackers, meat, cereal, juice and pop, and I would make up trays of food for myself to eat between commercials all night long. It's easy to remember my feelings of comfort as I did that, and how secure I felt food to be in my life -- I could always turn to it, and it was always there. What a tremendous relationship I had with it.
In my late teens, I came at least partially to terms with the abuse I suffered as a child, and I made a solemn vow to break the cycle right at that point and never to be violent with my children in any way whatsoever. I also made a vow to spread as much peace and compassion outwardly to others as I possibly could, because I wanted to try and swing the balance to the other side as much as I could from that point forward. Only recently have I made a similar resolve about food, and so far, it hasn't been too difficult. (Of course, detachment helps, too.) I'm not perfect with my food, which is only natural, but I think I've finally stopped looking for a friend in my food. As my old bud Dr Phil says, I'm eating to live now, instead of living to eat.
If there was a way I could spend my time helping fat people get through this stuff, I'd be really happy to do it. I know I'd dig doing that more than my web-based research consulting gig.
