It starts in the same way. You’re casually making yourself a coffee, low cal, just like always. Waiting for the kettle to boil, you turn, lean on the counter. You see that bit of left-over food in the pan. You want it.You walk towards it to… investigate.You pick it up in your hands, it’s heavy. You look closely at it, smell it. ‘Hmm…..’ You slide the cutlery-drawer gently open, telling yourself: “just a little bit won’t hurt…. it’s good to eat sometimes at least….. I’ll still be below my calorie limit…. I can just do better tomorrow….” The fork is raised in your hand. Then this is likely to happen: You dig in. It tastes so good, you feel relieved, free to finally eat as much as you want. Fuck your plans. Fuck the diet. This tastes so good, I’ll diet tomorrow instead. You finish the leftovers and see bread on the side. “mmm bread” you think “want some of that.” You hastily open the bag, retrieve three slices of bread. Put one in your mouth immediately, so it hangs there, and slot the other two in the toaster, and shove down the switch. You bite into the piece of bread in your mouth. Yummmm! You think Go over to the fridge, get some reamy butter out, quick. Get out a knife and put plenty on. Roll over the bread and take glorious bites, you’re in heavan. You finnish quickly, open the fridge, and grab the orange juice. You unsrew the cap and gulp gulp gul straight from the carton. Screw it back on and replace it. “Yum cheese!” you think, and sieze the block of cheese. Put it on the counter, and cut yourself a slice, put it in your mouth, and chew while cutting another slice. You eat 4 slices and your toast pops up. “yay!” you think, grab the toast out of the toaster, put it on the butter lid that you left out, and spread copious amounts on as it melts into golden deliciousness. You grab one piece and start to munch away as you walk back over to the fridge to get the jam, you’re finished by the time you walk back. That was delicious! You spread the sweet jam on the other piece of toast and devour the syrupy, magical slice of toast. As you chew, your eyes meet the cereal. You grab a bowl and the box, scatter a bountiful amount of cereal into the bowl, and slosh on the full cream milk, and take a gulp from the carton for good measure. You get a spoon from the drawer, ad dig in. Its deliciously crunchy. You finnish. You see your coffee cup still in the counter, still waiting to be filled from the kettle that you didn’t hear boil because you were chewing so loudly. You look around at the kitchen. The open bread bag, the cheese half it’s orrigional size, the butter open, a knife smothered in jam, toast crumb everywhere, and open cereal box, spilled milk. The mess you just made in the kitchen reflects the mess you’ve just made of yourself. You’ve just eaten over 2,000 calories. You’ve surrendered. This will take you days to work off, days to just get back to where you were. You feel like an utter failiure. Or, scenario 2. You look at the food. Do I really want this? I mean…. I don’t even like food that much. And I really need to lose weight…. no. I don’t want to do this to myself. You put the fork back in the drawer, and the food back on the counter. Someone else can have those calories. Get a glass, fill it with wat, and drink up. T’s refreshing, you smile to yourself at how strong you just were. The kettle boils, you make yourself coffee and leave. “That wasn’t too hard. I can do this. I can be what I want to be. I can succeed.” You smile, you’re proud, and you deserve to be <3
^^^Damn! I think I will stop and read that every time before entering the kitchen, that was intense.
(Source: cry-a-river2swim-some-lengths)