Wellbeing
As someone who has struggled with controlling food cravings since childhood, I think that it's important to acknowledge the role of addiction in obesity. This article highlights the need to address the physiological and psychological vulnerabilities in those who have food addiction. That's why having a community of people to support you is so valuable in the process of of attaining wellbeing. Addiction thrives in isolation.
http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/12/091222105231.htm
I used to have a friend in college, and it was our shared love of food that bonded us in a unique and strange way. Over these semesters, I slowly gained over 40 pounds. We would make delectable feasts together, and then revel in the eating for hours. During these strange sessions of indulgence, we revealed to each other that eating for us was like patching a hole with ice. It melts, and then you have to fill it back up again. Our addiction was cloaked in the guise of a culinary hobby. We prepared exquisite dishes, but the truth is that when the need arose, distracting our thoughts and making our bellies feel hollow and empty—even after snacking all day—it didn't really matter what we ate. Microwave popcorn and a cup-o-noodles could be just as satisfying as duck confit when the "hunger" reared its head.
Look, I understand how ignoble food addiction seems. Kerouac romanticized his addiction to alcohol in On the Road and Dharma Bums, as he stumbled around the streets of San Francisco with his thumb hooked in a jug of port wine. But what swashbuckling protagonist has the achilles heel of a food addiction? I can't think of many. What beautifully-flawed antihero has ever revealed their secret pain by plunging their spoon into a tub of Ben and Jerry's Triple Caramel Chunk? Food addiction is not sexy. But it's real, and the rest of you are just going to have to trust us. We try. And often, we fail.
And the truth is that we may never understand the why of what makes someone eat and eat until they hurt. God knows I'm not sure if I WANT to know why I do the things I do. So maybe psychotherapy isn't the answer. Maybe it's okay to not be hell bent on unraveling the complexity of why are we the way we are, and rather get enough people around us who believe in us and encourage us to do better. When I have the loving voice of a friend or family member in my head, and I can hang on a few simple words of encouragement, that carries me through. I may not know how, but just hearing that I can is enough to make me find a way.
http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/12/091222105231.htm
I used to have a friend in college, and it was our shared love of food that bonded us in a unique and strange way. Over these semesters, I slowly gained over 40 pounds. We would make delectable feasts together, and then revel in the eating for hours. During these strange sessions of indulgence, we revealed to each other that eating for us was like patching a hole with ice. It melts, and then you have to fill it back up again. Our addiction was cloaked in the guise of a culinary hobby. We prepared exquisite dishes, but the truth is that when the need arose, distracting our thoughts and making our bellies feel hollow and empty—even after snacking all day—it didn't really matter what we ate. Microwave popcorn and a cup-o-noodles could be just as satisfying as duck confit when the "hunger" reared its head.
Look, I understand how ignoble food addiction seems. Kerouac romanticized his addiction to alcohol in On the Road and Dharma Bums, as he stumbled around the streets of San Francisco with his thumb hooked in a jug of port wine. But what swashbuckling protagonist has the achilles heel of a food addiction? I can't think of many. What beautifully-flawed antihero has ever revealed their secret pain by plunging their spoon into a tub of Ben and Jerry's Triple Caramel Chunk? Food addiction is not sexy. But it's real, and the rest of you are just going to have to trust us. We try. And often, we fail.
And the truth is that we may never understand the why of what makes someone eat and eat until they hurt. God knows I'm not sure if I WANT to know why I do the things I do. So maybe psychotherapy isn't the answer. Maybe it's okay to not be hell bent on unraveling the complexity of why are we the way we are, and rather get enough people around us who believe in us and encourage us to do better. When I have the loving voice of a friend or family member in my head, and I can hang on a few simple words of encouragement, that carries me through. I may not know how, but just hearing that I can is enough to make me find a way.