Yesterday, I had an epiphany. It was a beautiful, sunny early evening, 7:45pm to be exact, and there was not a cloud in the sky. It was light, bright and one of those evenings that makes you feel like you can do anything. I'm still getting used to the light evenings - it's always a suprise to me when the clocks go forward. And as I walked out of my apartment, I had a choice. The proverbial crossroads if you will. If I went left, I would end up at the gym. It was a light evening, no reason not to walk the 8 minute (yes I have timed it that precisely) walk along the road to the gym. If I went right, I would end up at ....the chippy.
I went right.
Even as I made the decision, it was as if my body was on autopilot, propelling me towards a land of saturated fat and carbs. Who am I kidding? I was NEVER going to the gym, it had been my intention all along to gorge myself on chips. I partly justified it with the fact that I am slightly hungover from watching a hugely vital football game last night, but even as I waited for Soo (yes, we are on first name terms...what does that tell ya?) to wrap those golden, fluffy chips (dripping in fat and covered in salt) in the paper, my mind screamed 'Just walk out'. I fantasised about saying 'You know what, I don't need to eat these' and leaving the chippy, a free woman and an all-round better person.
Again, I ignored my inner voice and went home clutching a warm package of gluttony.
And I ate them. Every single last one of them. At some points I barely tasted them, it was more about the sensation of getting them down my neck. Even as I ate, I knew that when I woke up the following morning I would feel full, bloated, fat and ugly. And yet even THAT wasn't enough to satiate me. To stop me.
Why am I like this?