Swallowing Pain

Thinking. Again, why is it I think food will feed the empty spot inside me? Over and over I've found it doesn't, but that has never stopped me from trying. Kind of like a Chinese puzzle. When my repeated attempts at solution don't work, I still try the same thing one more time. I'm sure psychologists have a term for that. I probably don't want to know what it is.

More thinking. Why do I think food is my friend? It has betrayed me again and again. And yet, I can't seem to leave it. That wonderful Broadway show, A Chorus Line, has a beautiful plaintive song, "What I Did For Love." I sing it to myself this way - "What I Did For Food." It shames me to think of what I've done to make sure I wouldn't be left out or miss out on my "fair" share of food. I'm gulping pain today, on my way to learning where to stuff it. I have phone numbers. I have literature, tools and resources. I have God nearby. I'll get up and do something. In a minute.