Who the fuck melts down in a steakhouse?

I want it. I want it so fucking bad. I can feel the melted chocolate as it flows down my throat.

The thought of eating it makes me want to vomit, but I ordered it anyways. Something about carpe diem or something? No. It’s about anger. It’s about resentment. It’s about hatred. It’s about me.

My sponsor and I talked about acceptance today (yes, I have a sponsor now). I told her I speak to my patients about acceptance along with forgiveness as the two are interconnected.

I haven’t forgiven myself. I haven’t accepted this yet. I know I’m an overeater, logically, but I haven’t forgiven myself.

This is about control, you see? I can’t control this. I am powerless against this. And I’m angry. I am resentful. And I find despite logic, I can’t forgive myself for allowing this “allergy,” this disease to have become so out of control.


One thought on “Who the fuck melts down in a steakhouse?

  1. I really don’t think it’s your fault. Our food supply is so nutritionally void that our bodies can’t help but scream at us for more more more. Eight years ago I used to think about food every waking second. Then, I went paleo and eat only organic real food. Steadily over the course of 3 years that voice fell silent. The food lost its power!

    Liked by 1 person

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