This blog is not going to be submitted.  I just ate a large chocolate peanut butter cup and a fair sized bag of potato chips.  My stomach is distended.  I thought I’d write so I’m not all distracted by it when I’m reading.  I suppose I could throw-up or run myself into a frenzy, but that doesn’t really work anymore.  I know why I ate as I did (April 16th Update:  Of course I did).  It was kind of funny.  Before I ate the chips, I remembered how dad told me that when he was young on Sundays grandma would allow them to have a chocolate bar and a bag of potato chips.  And as I was eating I was aware of this intimate relationship with food, seemingly so much more accessible than it is with guys.  I was also aware that if I ate however much I wanted now, I wouldn’t be craving the type of food I was eating l8ter.  So I guess I wasn’t completely present while I was eating.

However, the event does bring to mind the nature of how I’ve been approaching food lately.  Everything has to be healthy, everything has to meet some kind of nutrient need.  I think I was aware I was taking it a little too far.  I suppose food is not the best way to meet intimacy needs.  I felt I needed the reprieve, though.  From reaching out to people and then getting smashed.  This is not to say I haven’t made mistakes.  I have.  And maybe learning to be selective about the meaning of "No" woud be helpful.  It’s just I’m sick of people and their problems, particularly the lack of introspection that contributes to a loss of morale and the projection of fear, pity, and frustration onto others.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go for a walk and listen to music.

Kali