3/24/17 Notes to Myself: Is comfort food, food for the soul? 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 the time. 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 with that. 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 up. 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.