The late night sounds in my house should not bother me. They should be accepted by the 21-year-old daughter living at home for the summer before she heads off with her boyfriend to Beijing for 12 months.
But every night is the same. My mom heads to the kitchen, no, she lingers around the kitchen, and then the refrigerator opens. Containers open, silverware rattles, maybe the TV turns on, bowls are left asunder on the sofa so there is cottage cheese or peanut butter caked on them the next morning. And it's like "that's great there's your substitution for a happy marriage or any form of sexual romantic love for the past 20 years, that's great. Enjoy your snacks". But it's worse than that because that enjoying-of-snacks she indulges in every day, every evening also strikes me through and through and makes my heart yearn for spoonfuls of ice cream and peanut butter too, bowls and bowls of Cheerios or just a shit-ton of whatever-the-fuck-is-in-the-cupboards.
As if food was a logical or viable substitute for ANYTHING. IT'S FUCKING FOOD YOU PUT IT IN A MOUTH HOLE SO YOUR SKIN SACK STAYS UPRIGHT AND YOUR MUSCLE CALLED HEART BEATS ON
but then I guess that's why we have so many of these folks in American, soon-to-be all over the world:
because it has become acceptable to solve your problems and "reward" yourself with eating
to waste your life on eating
to substitute living with eating and food
I was under 500 today because of exercise and lots of veggies. I made a great carrot purée baby food with steamed carrots and a spritz of onion powder, blended together for yumtasticness.
I'm feeling good other than having the Mom-binge-ED on my mind.
Hope you all are having good nights/mornings/daytimes.
xxxooo Eva
