My therapist said I had to make better choices. I chose to fire her.
And I chose to go back to gluten. I wasn’t depressed because of gluten, I was depressed because I was heartbroken. Because I was heartbroken I ate too many bad pastries. I like sugar. Sugar makes me feel good. But then sometimes it makes me feel bad. Now I know there’s good sugar and there’s bad sugar, like cholesterol or men.
Now I make choices based on the long-term. I want the good feelings to last longer. The impulse danish or Dunkin’ Donut only feels food for a little while. I timed it once: twelve minutes and then I wanted another one. Twelve minutes later I just felt extra bad – and extra bloated.
I learned how to make my own bread and sugar-free muffins. I bring them to the office on Mondays. Jennifer at work doesn’t believe me when I tell her how I lost the weight. She thinks I’m being a bitch because Colin has fallen in love with my carrot cake muffins. That’s her prerogative, I didn’t start baking to woo Colin. We’re all making our own choices.
8 min on 6.3.14, in Queens
prompted from a cookie wrapper on the F train
0 Comments