On my last post (number 4… you see the logic, don’t you), I said I binged on pasta and Pringles.

I felt sick all night and couldn’t get more than two hours sleep. The next day was wretched. So I ate chocolate (four bars throughout the day) to comfort myself.

The day ended with a special moment in a service at my church. We were encouraged to be thankful for those moments in our lives when we felt most alive. For me, it’s when I’m writing, DJing or socialising. These are holy moments.

And I reflected on the times when I’m comfort eating. I over-eat because it’s a defence mechanism I developed when I was bullied as a child. Eating is my ‘control zone’. It’s not really about the food; it’s just an insulation against the outside world where I have so often felt powerless in the past (through bullying, grief, issues of sexuality). Eating is my way of being powerful.

But it also numbs me to those times when I feel truly alive, when the defences are down, when I am susceptible to those extreme emotions of pain and joy.

Being unhealthy (or rather, choosing to be unhealthy through my own choices) keeps me in my comfort(-food) zone, but it also shuts me off from being truly human, totally alive and exactly who I am meant to be.

End of rant.

Strangely enough, I have eaten better today.