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« Ortho Novum Vs. My Pituitary Gland | Main | Last night I had the strangest Dream »

March 02, 2008

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kate

Ah, food. That dysfunctional relationship. We need it, we hate it, we want it, we resent it, we understand our issues with it intellectually in moments of mature lucidity, and then we gorge or starve ourselves out of misdirected spite.

Who wants to see it merely as fuel? Food is fun. It's delicious and inspiring and it's social currency.

I always wanted to be one of those people who throws herself into exercise when stressed. Lord knows I'd be the fittest woman on the planet by now! I could work out my angst on a treadmill. I could spend hours in a sauna-like room with my yoga mat, not just sweating out the toxins but getting progressively more lithe and flexible and super-charging my sex life...

Yeah, that would be nice. In reality, it's more like you said-- you feel like you deserve a certain taste, a certain treat, and when you're telling yourself those lies, it's easy to tell a few more, and then you find yourself in a body you never imagined you could accumulate, too embarrassed to find your way back to willpower.

Or maybe that's just me. :)

Anyway, I hear you, sister. And I think you're right that there's a lesson in there about self care-- we have to learn to strike the balance between that and self-sabotage (so much easier!), so that we can have our cake and eat it too. HA! :>

kate

Ah, food. That dysfunctional relationship. We need it, we hate it, we want it, we resent it, we understand our issues with it intellectually in moments of mature lucidity, and then we gorge or starve ourselves out of misdirected spite.

Who wants to see it merely as fuel? Food is fun. It's delicious and inspiring and it's social currency.

I always wanted to be one of those people who throws herself into exercise when stressed. Lord knows I'd be the fittest woman on the planet by now! I could work out my angst on a treadmill. I could spend hours in a sauna-like room with my yoga mat, not just sweating out the toxins but getting progressively more lithe and flexible and super-charging my sex life...

Yeah, that would be nice. In reality, it's more like you said-- you feel like you deserve a certain taste, a certain treat, and when you're telling yourself those lies, it's easy to tell a few more, and then you find yourself in a body you never imagined you could accumulate, too embarrassed to find your way back to willpower.

Or maybe that's just me. :)

Anyway, I hear you, sister. And I think you're right that there's a lesson in there about self care-- we have to learn to strike the balance between that and self-sabotage (so much easier!), so that we can have our cake and eat it too. HA! :>

kate

Ah, food. That dysfunctional relationship. We need it, we hate it, we want it, we resent it, we understand our issues with it intellectually in moments of mature lucidity, and then we gorge or starve ourselves out of misdirected spite.

Who wants to see it merely as fuel? Food is fun. It's delicious and inspiring and it's social currency.

I always wanted to be one of those people who throws herself into exercise when stressed. Lord knows I'd be the fittest woman on the planet by now! I could work out my angst on a treadmill. I could spend hours in a sauna-like room with my yoga mat, not just sweating out the toxins but getting progressively more lithe and flexible and super-charging my sex life...

Yeah, that would be nice. In reality, it's more like you said-- you feel like you deserve a certain taste, a certain treat, and when you're telling yourself those lies, it's easy to tell a few more, and then you find yourself in a body you never imagined you could accumulate, too embarrassed to find your way back to willpower.

Or maybe that's just me. :)

Anyway, I hear you, sister. And I think you're right that there's a lesson in there about self care-- we have to learn to strike the balance between that and self-sabotage (so much easier!), so that we can have our cake and eat it too. HA! :>

kate

Yikes: I'll risk that fiasco again to tell you that I have no idea why my comment ended up here four times over! I swear, I had nothing to do with it-- it's taken on a life of its own!

I tried to delete them but couldn't. Sorry!

Geohde

See, the problem I have with food is that no matter how whacked out our relationship is with it, we have to keep eating to survive. It isn't like we can just quit. Makes it tough...

J

Sparky

Saturday on NPR, an MD claimed that he has successfully treated fibromyalgia patients with Vitamin D. He SOUNDED competent.

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