A room with no view

When I deny myself food, I feel that I do not love myself.  I feel it deep down in a dark place I don't like to go to; in a dank room with dirty walls and a 40 watt bare bulb barely burning a presence in the darkness.

Where I am alone.

Where I store all my self doubt and my fears stacked like old documents in cardboard boxes.

Where whispers are kept silent.

I have learned that swallowing my emotions, both literally and figuratively keeps this room's door locked.  And that is a problem.

It makes no sense.  And it is maddening! Why would feeding my face keep this room locked away?

Let's go back to the begining.  When I deny myself food, I feel that I do not love myself.  And I feel it deep down in this room.

The room is Fear.  And food is not the key, it is the box that the things I am afraid of are kept.  When I deny myself food, I am letting the fear out.

I am not showing myself love when I eat.  I am only avoiding the fear.  I am not denying myself love when I deny myself foods I think I want.  I am only letting the fear trick me into feelings I attribute to not loving myself.

I think I'm going to have to spend some time in that room.  And I am afraid.  I do not want to go there, but I do not want to live like this anymore.

Stop, in the name of love

First things first, I haven't been able to poke around at other people's blogs.  The stable is still a bit unstable and I just haven't had the time to really reflect on myself or visit my friend's blogs.  Mrs. C is finishing up her treatments and the results have been stunning.  She was offically let go yesterday, but she actually applied for a job at the same place of employment that starts mid to end of Novemember....so here's hoping.  In the meantime, I hope to get to some other's blogs and catch up.

Now for what's really been on my mind.  


All day today a phrase has been stuck in my head: "The Clydesdale Jogger loves himself too much to eat that chocolate chip cookie." Yes, there are times I think in third person.

I'm not sure where the phrase came from, but I'm glad it has popped up.  For one thing, my mother in law is staying with us while Mrs. C is recovering and she makes excellent baked goods.  For another, it has been flexible enough to hold on to and get through the impulsive cravings that I have.  While the phrase remains chocolate chip cookies, it came up when I considered the bowl of candy corn on N's desk, or the chocolate in the reference department, or stopping by McDonald's for a nasty cheezburger (because who would know?  I can throw the evidence away in the dumpster alley before I go in to administration for a meeting). But, dammit, Clydesdale Jogger loves himself too much to eat these things. 

Hopefully this device will help at least in the short run.  What sort of devices have you all found useful?