What It Is

Brother bought a birthday cake for someone's birthday party. There was a miscommunication and five people brought cake so he brought most of his cake back home. It's a caramel marble mudcake from The Cheesecake Shop. I'm dying. I'm dying here. I want it so bad. I want to gorge and binge. I cut it into pieces and packed it into Tupperware just now, all the while mentally battling with myself on whether or not to have a piece. There's so much of it and it was sitting in his hot car all day so it has an imminent expiry date.

But I shouldn't. It's a slippery slope and I felt myself on the precipice just now. I had a nibble here and there as I was packing it up and I already feel sick now. But to sink my teeth into that dense, sugary cake would be pure perfection. Why are things that are so good so bad for us?

I just made this beer bread:

It's delicious with the most mind shattering crust but a smidge too sweet. I will cut down the sugar in future.

I'm probably the physically healthiest I've been in my life (save perhaps a point or two in my childhood when all I did was run around the backyard, playing Octopus with my dad and my brother. That game when you try to run past the other person without them grabbing you) but I don't know whether I'm at my mental peak.

I feel I think about food way too often. I plan out my calories. I allot myself designated treats. I freak out if someone brings food into class because that fucks up my eating schedule and I don't know whether I can resist free/good food. I squirrel away food in my underwear drawer and freezer. I drink so much fucking tea to take my mind off food. I weigh myself too often. I agonize over whether I should eat that handful of cashews because, good Jesus, each cashew is like 10 calories. I pick up a handful of five and eat one then put four back because I feel bad. Fucking cashews.

I don't know if there's a healthy medium. Maybe I'm still finding my feet.

A couple of weeks ago, I went to a quiz night. I knew there was going to be snacks; chocolate, chips, Rocky Motherfucking Road. I decided that was going to be my Big Treat of the week (I usually have one cheat breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert each week). So I braced myself. When I went to the quiz night, I binged so hard. I couldn't stop eating. I grabbed rocky road like there was no tomorrow and I felt so ashamed the whole time. I went home feeling sick and I wanted to vomit it all up so much. Not because I felt physically sick (although I did) but because I was so disgusted with myself and wanted to get all of it out of my body. 

Why do we do these things to ourselves? 

J