Crackers, I Tell You, It's Crackers!
Wednesday, May 01, 2013
I've been struggling to Spark over the past two weeks or so. I'm in a vicious cycle--I am not eating well so I avoid Spark; avoiding Spark People reinforces the impulses to eat poorly.
I have been caught up in the insanity of poor choices. I need to rectify things at once. Here's my story: by day, I'm a decent citizen. I walk in the morning and in the afternoon I almost always work out --aerobics, strength training, cardio, etc. at the gym. We prepare and eat decent and varied dinners. Sometimes the two extremely thin men I live with---Mr. Greasy Joan who does not understand how it's humanly possible to weigh more than 150 pounds and Greasy Joan Minor, my string-bean of a tall middle-aged son, cook. They have health in mind and it's typically vegetarian, wholesome fare with just the right amount of nutrients and sufficient calories. (Did you ever wonder who wears "men's small" sizes? That's my son!)
Nothing is wrong with this picture.
But about two hours after dinner I have been going berserk. I eat mindlessly in the kitchen. I don't have traditional "junk food" but we do have a lot of peanut butter and crackers. I get lazy at night and I never slice a piece of bread so I turn to crackers. And more crackers. Like a shark in a sea infested with crackers I cruise around the kitchen cramming these crackers into my maw.
And in about 30 minutes I can easily consume 500 to 700 calories of peanut butter and crackers.
I have banished foods that traditionally caused me night-time trouble. But I cannot banish peanut butter and crackers which the slender men in my life are heavily dependent on. They know how to eat them. One or two here or there when they are hungry. For me the carbs go straight to my brain and demand more more more.
That's my story. I'm crackers over crackers. I struggled long and hard to get into "one-derland". And just today I am a couple of ounces above it.
They are kind to me and they suffer me gladly, but my husband and son have given up having sweets in the house for my sake. They have given up having salty snacks in the house for my sake. A few weeks ago Mr Greasy Joan remarked that he missed having pretzels around. And I felt wretched. He can have a pretzel; but I will just finish the box mindlessly. I cannot ask them to give up crackers.
I hope that the public humiliation of announcing that I am helpless over crackers will spur me on to do something about it. Maybe I should write a daily blog chronicling my abusive co-dependent relationship with the crackers.
Tonight I will see if eating 100 extra calories at dinner makes any significant difference.