Monday, November 16, 2009

Have you met my good friend: Food?

If you have even just 'sort of' read this blog before, then you know how much I love to eat!


Chipotle?  Taco Bell?  Cold Stone? 
YES YES YES!!!

I hate to say this publicly, but food is definitely my comfort.

Isn't it funny how even though at times you can be surrounded by lots of friends, you can still feel pretty lonely?  Somewhere along the way, food became one of my closest friends.

It helps me deal with depression.
It doesn't ever criticize or judge me.
It doesn't have a cruel thing to say about me.
I don't have to worry about offending it.

When I am with food, I can be myself.  It's like being with a really close friend where all my guards are down.  Sad, i know...

Ask any of my friends who have ever gone out to eat with me:  I pretty much ALWAYS finish my plate clear! 

I just keep eating!  Even when I am not hungry anymore...  I don't quite know why, but I do.

One of the reasons why I run so much is because it allows me to still eat what I want, yet not get too fat.  However, now that race season is over, and the temperature has changed, I am not running as much.  So if you see me put on a few pounds, just know that I have been spending time with my good friend, food. 

Seriously...it has even gotten to the point where it has become a pet peeve of mine when people pick food off of my plate.  DON'T YOU TOUCH MY TATER TOTS!  Or french fries!!!  That is my COMFORT you are stealing!

Of course, friends do it, and I put on a chipper face, saying "Sure, go ahead..."  But really, you don't know what you are doing to me! 

I remember one time, going out to eat with a group of friends, and my plate of food was one of the first placed on the table.  By the time everyone took just one fry, I literally have like 6 fries left. 

That was a sad day.
But i didn't let it show.

Because that would look crazy.

I don't know.  I never touch anyone else's plate.  It's just something that I don't do.  If I didn't order it, and you didn't offer it to me, then I don't eat it!

But anyway...

I have a good idea where my love of food came from.  It started when I was a kid.  My parents always used food as a reward.

"If you are good throughout the whole church service, we will go to Shoney's for lunch."
"For your birthday, I will make you whatever you want for dinner/dessert!"
"After helping us paint the garage, we will get pizza!"

My parents made 'food' something that you look forward to, instead of just a necessity to live.

And here today, I use it in that same manner.

I didn't have a very good weekend, but I did get a tad excited everytime I thought about what I would get for lunch or dinner (and of course, dessert!)...  Even when I wasn't really hungry. 

Skipping a meal was NOT an option. 

If there was a buffet anywhere near me, then I would've tore it up!

I know, I know...it's not a very healthy way to be, and I know that there are deeper issues that probably need to be worked on, but for the immediate future, just know that if I am eating, then I am happy.

At least temporarily.

18 comments:

  1. I love your blog. For some reason, this post makes me feel uneasy. I know you are probably trying to be funny, but I feel your reality in there.

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  2. I love to eat too, and I deal with many emotional issues. You really nailed some of my feelings on this one, but in a good way without getting real sappy. I can relate to a lot of the reasons why you like to eat. Keep up the good work, Paul Benjamin.

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  3. I would rather you call me up to hang out than to stuff your face with another piece of pie, paulie!

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  4. I kind of had the same experience growing up. My parents also used food as a reward or a way to get me to do something. I never really thought about that until you just mentioned it. Makes a lot of sense as to why i look forward to eating now.

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  5. Funny stuff! Great post.

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  6. Dislike.

    I like your honesty, but I don't like what i am sensing underneath the jokes. You better know that I think you are an amazing writer!

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  7. Well since you know I NEVER finish my food feel free to always eat my qdoba/chipotle nachos!! =0)

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  8. suddenly I feel so GUILTY.. I'm sure I've stolen a tator tot of yours before. Next time we go out to eat, a cone of tator tots on me, just for you Paulie - well you know I'll probably eat some of those tator tots out of the cone, I mean how could I just sit there and watch?? haha I'm with you, love me some food!

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  9. Paulie, if you are eating more than regular, then at least make it healthy! Buy a bunch of vegetables and fruit.

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  10. I'm thinking about making a nice big dinner tonight. If I do, I will text you!

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  11. I think it's hard not to use food as a reward or in social settings. We need food to live so it becomes ones of those things thats easy to incorporate into everything else. You take care of yourself, you're fit, you run. Those are very good things.

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  12. I'm an emotional eater too. It's very comforting and most things or place I eat at I associate with good feelings and memories.

    I would much rather have a milkshake or piece of cake than a drink.

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  13. "DON'T YOU TOUCH MY TATER TOTS!"

    Oh God, I just had to chuckle at that, Paul!

    See, I have a slightly different reaction. When I'm severely depressed I tend to not want to eat at all or eat everything in sight! It just depends.

    But there's absolutely nothing, NOTHING I tell you, like a piece of my momma's homemade chocolate cake to make a bad day not so bad.

    I could use a piece right now!!

    -Dean

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  14. Oh! You just completely described my weekend. I had nowhere to go, and nothing to do so I ate and ate and ate. I think i have similar feelings toward food as you do.

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  15. wow...you nailed it...food as comfort......truer words have never been spoken;)

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  16. The 'emotional eating' you described is quite common. Unfortunately Spouse & I suffer from it as well. Exercise is not enough for us to combat the effects so we are trying to establish a more healthy relationship with food. Wish us luck.

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  17. Wow, I can really relate. Thanks for sharing this.

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