It's Not Fair

Well here it is, Tuesday morning and I'm still burping up the nacho cheese flavour from last night's popcorn binge. But there's a problem. My secret isn't a secret anymore. I've been found out. I thought I was doing a fabulous job of hiding my addiction, my need to stuff everything down my throat until I was numb. After I had so carefully cleaned up my mess last night, I walked past my son's room on the way to mine to throw myself into bed so I could feel horrible about my actions once again. As I passed his room, I heard him say, "It's not fair."

"What's not fair?" I responded.

"That you get two bowls of popcorn and I don't get any."

I was so ashamed. He's right, it's not fair. It's sad. It's desperate. It's lonely. It's years of eating without thinking. It's stuffing your feelings down with food instead of addressing them. It's putting on a brave and happy face to the rest of the world and trying to find fulfillment at the bottom of a bowl or a bag when no one else is looking. It's painful. And it's not fair.