I have been a stress eater my whole life. I was someone who sucked my thumb as a child. When I quit that at age 12, I think I replaced that with food. I realized very late in life that food fed my insecurities, my loneliness, my depression and my desire to fit in. It became a way of life. And it is not normal.
My husband is the kind of person who can buy a pie, or a bag of cookies, or chips…eat a piece or a handful, and then put the rest away for the next time which could be a week later. I have never understood that. I have friends who quit eating when they are depressed. I wish! Who does that? That is something I don’t understand either. My sister was like me. Her husband was an alcoholic. He couldn’t understand the way we looked at food either. So she asked him if he bought a pint or a quart of liquor would he take one drink out of it and put it away for another day, or would he finish it off? He said of course he would finish it off and then he understood.
My favorite binge food was to get a one pound bag of m & m’s and a large bag of chips…how can you improve on chocolate and salty together? And I would eat them until they were gone. Thank goodness those days are long gone, but the urge to eat when stressed or anxious about something is still there.
And so, after supper, there is always the urge for dessert, or ‘something more’ or ‘I just want something else’ that I have to fight against. Sometimes I will eat less earlier in the day just so I CAN have that ‘something more’ later to feed my inner security blanket.
So as someone who needs to lose weight, being a stress eater never helps the new situations when they come. That sneaky little urge to feed the anxiety or the boredom or the fear or the depression is always hiding inside ready to pop out unawares. I think that maybe once I’d like to try the other side…the side that quits eating when upset. It’s amazing how odd that seems to me. I guess it is all in what’s ‘normal’ for you.