Do you have a dirty secret?

Our Weight Watcher meeting this week touched on a lot of things. One in particular, was eating in secret. Hiding your food intake from others, sneaking food.

I don't do this. So, in my "I'm going to figure out why the fuck I'm fat" phase, I have decided to delve into my psyche on all the topics brought up at meetings.

I weighed 368 pounds and I wasn't a closet eater. I was an in your face, take this if you don't like it, fuck 'em if they can't take a joke, eater. Oh I died inside when I saw people looking at me at a buffet. I felt the heat rise up the back of my neck when I saw the glances when I got the big bucket of popcorn at the movie. I did it anyway. I'm a stubborn bitch if there ever was one. I still am. Back in the day, I used to go to Weight Watchers on Thursday night. After the meeting, a group of us would go out to dinner. We went to the Big Boy and always had the soup and salad bar. They had Weight Watchers cabbage soup, but I always had the cream of broccoli. They had fat free dressing, I had the blue cheese. It was my reward for being good all week. Thing is, part of the group that we went with included the leader, the weigher, and the secretary! How's that for in your face eating? I wonder what they thought? I don't wonder how I'd have reacted if they'd have said 'you know, you really shouldn't do this to yourself', but that's another post!

So, no, I'm not a closet eater at all. What you see is what you get. It wasn't always like that, now that I'm delving. I remember being very young and sneaking food. I wasn't allowed snacks, and I'd come home from school starving. I'd sneak something, anything. I used to get what my mom called bilious spells. I know now it was a gall bladder thing. My gall bladder would build up bile and it had to come out. I'd throw up for about 24 hours until it was all gone and then that was it. I wasn't allowed to eat or drink during these spells. My mom would make me wait 24 hours from the last time I was sick, and then I could have jello water. Only that for the next 24 hours and then I could have chicken soup. Nothing ever tasted better than that soup! Thing is, once all the bile was gone, I felt 100% fine. The sickness was gone, I was back to normal. Mom didn't know this, she was doing what she thought best. I remember once sneaking a whole block of cheese from the fridge and hiding it under my bed. Another time she'd made hamburger steaks in gravy for dinner and I snuck one of the left overs and hid in the bath tub and ate it. I walked to school. I'd save my money up and stop at the little party store on the route on the way home and buy junk to eat as I walked. It was gone when I got home, the evidence disposed of. When I was old enough to drive, it would be A & W hot dogs before dinner, chips, anything I could get my hands on. I'd be so stuffed when dinner came around, but I'd have to eat anyway or my parents might know what I'd done. So, around my parents, I was a food sneaker. That ended when I met TBM.

I don't know if it's just a rebellious thing or what. You'd think that eating all the food I eat in public would control what I eat, but it doesn't.

I wonder why? I think I shall ponder this further. Maybe it'll be another door unlocked for me.

What about you? Do you eat in private? Or, do you put it all out there?

Peace be the journey

:-)