Hungry Lion

Not metaphorically. There are no goofy cliches.

I'm hungry. 

I'm contemplating food and my battle with it. Typically, when I set out to carefully consider things that make me tick, I'm happy for the self awareness boost. Not this time. I'm actually pretty overwhelmed. In fact, I always have been. Maybe I haven't said as much. Maybe I just sweep it under the rug. Or under the passenger seat where the empty fast food bags stay until I dung them out.

I feel it's a combination of habits I'm hitting a stubborn head with, and a subconscious need to somehow harm myself. I've never been one to self destruct. I never thought I was, at least.

I am thrilled that I have managed a time or two in my life, to make positive, healthy changes - even if they were short lived. If I was honest with myself and other people about each time I thought about going to the gym, and each time I had great intentions, it would be almost laughable. Barely a day passes that I don't tell myself that this will be a gym day.



The anxiety of making a change is equal to the anxiety of being unhealthy.



*returns to a previous post and takes own advice: breathe*

I'm a very transparent lion. In all areas of my life - but one. It's not usual I want to toss this struggle out there so publicly, but somehow I feel it's necessary for me. Maybe I need to get angry and cry about it, but right now I'm hungry and only for something that no self-respecting human should eat.

I'm happy being fat. I'm not afraid to use the F word. I'm not afraid to tell people that fat isn't a crime, and that I'm beautiful. But I am ashamed of the food I eat when nobody is watching. Somehow, I'm hoping that the humiliation of sharing what I want to keep to myself will make it matter to me somehow.