Fuzz is eating peanut butter. He doesn't want a peanut butter sandwich, but just plain peanut butter. We have no junk food in the house. Fuzz has been reduced to eating a soup spoon full of peanut butter (all natural of course --- begone Satan trans fats!) when he wants a snack during Letterman.
I feel insane. I am amazed at how angry I am today. Oh boy, it's rough. This is the problem about being off the food, I guess, I get swamped by these really strong emotions.
I got set off around the buffet at the farewell party next month for the addictions doctor and am nursing a big fat resentment over how not even other addicts get my food addiction. It's not as if I'm not used to coping with food served at events, jeez it's every where I turn, I used to go to AA meetings for a while but most of them end with cake! I get damn tired of it and I got no sympathy from that bunch in my therapy group today. The three organizers of the event are even in OA, for fuck's sake! But then my defensive anger tells me "well, they obviously don't have a real food problem", not as bad as me, the girl who was the poster child for the food addict equivalent of the gutter drunk... Are you getting the sense that I am raving mad here?
Part of it may be because the therapist is leaving town, I'm feeling really frightened that when I don't see him any more, my healing is going to halt. This may be perfectly illogical, I know. But the fear is there.
Then it seems as if everyone in my groups is bugging me. I honestly don't know who is bugging me more, the ones that I perceive as being "sicker" than me or the ones that I perceive as more "healed" than I am and I think they are smug, patronizing or criticizing me. Of course they aren't but I seem to need such external validation to feel safe. There I go comparing myself to others again, and I don't want to be, but I am frightened of others and angry. It makes me just want to pull my head back into my shell. And eat. Oh boy, could I use a tray of fudge brownies right now, followed by...oh forget it. I can't even go there with the fantasies. I've been chased around by them all day.
I'm just clearing some of this evilness out of my craw, and this anger will probably pass. I am deeply ashamed of feeling this way, I think I was trained to be ashamed. I am feeling so prickly around this issue I really don't want feedback around it, thanks. I am also having a number of hot flashes today, so all this grief may be a case of screwed up hormones. Really, I utterly crave gnawing on something, like a dog on a stick (mmm Pogo), which if they didn't have splinters I might be looking at one of the branches off the apple tree out back. Why don't dogs get splinters? I just pick up a piece of firewood without gloves and I get one.
I wish I could buy a chocolate flavoured estrogen injected rawhide bone. And throw a peanut butter one to Fuzz. Grrr gnash gnash gnash
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