3/24/17 Notes to Myself:
Is comfort food, food for the
I'm not so sure it's been
good for mine or very comforting.
At least not in the way I needed.
And there's been so much I've needed to
comfort throughout the course
of my life.
Food seemed to be my friend
and patient companion most of
I'd eat to assuage boredom, fear,
loss, and a host of other scary
feelings. Even good ones.
Feelings I just didn't know
how to share or deal with
especially growing up.
The patterns were engraved
slowly. I lost all capacity
to really enjoy food as I
look back. There was always
a secret battle going on
inside myself with it.
And I wasn't always
over weight. Although, I had my moments
Shame was always part of the
cake mix. And it's taken me some
time to sift through.
No matter what I ate I was
still figuratively hungry.
It went so much deeper than I realized.
It was the proverbial "hole in the soul",
and mine was gaping. Riddled with unfelt
grief and loss that wasn't so much
of a hole as it was a weight that
no amount of food would ever cover
The gaping hole isn't so wide
anymore! Perhaps it's more like
a window. I let people see in and
then somehow the hole disappears
and I find others who understand
and resonate because they have
been there too.