Oddly Sexual
The other day, I was at a newsstand, buying a few magazines. After I picked up my copy of the newest Oprah Magazine, I walked up to the counter to pay and there was a large display of Snickers bars on the counter.
I looked at the display, and all I could think about was buying 5 or 6 and eating them in quick succession. I started obsessing about the creamy chocolate and smooth caramel and crunchy peanuts; I had a vision of myself laying on a big white bed in a long white dress stuffing my face with Snickers bars. It bordered on an erotic fantasy.
I quickly realized that even if I did buy 5 or 6 or 10 bars and ate them in quick succession, there would be no white bed or silky dress or euphoria. There would be me, cramped in a corner, eating until I couldn’t anymore and then riding out a stomach ache of epic proportions. There would probably be tears, and there would definitely be regret.
Not my finest quality, true. My “secret” food and eating behaviors are less “secret” and more “totally unsurprising because I will tell you if I’ve known you more than 10 seconds.” I am not a private person, by any stretch, but my motivations are often are buried beneath the act itself, and my immediate jump to speak on the superficial acts betrays my fear of the deeper emotional causes. The reckless abandonment and the free spirit that I so desperately crave in my life often manifests itself in food. I want to be carefree and free of constant regulation, and to do get that I often go to unhealthy extremes in eating, exercise, and physical appearance in general.
Look at me using my therapy in real life.
In the 2 second space between seeing the Snickers display at the newsstand and placing my items in front of the clerk, all of this rather depressing information flashed though my mind. I stood there, drooling at the candy isle and I heard Alex say behind me, “Babe, do you want the candy bar?”
“Um… errr… well…” HELL THE FUCK YES I DO!
“Yeah, we’ll take the Snickers. Do you want 2?”
“No. One is fine. Thank you.” ONE TIMES TEN MAYBE.
So I took my candy and put it in my purse. I carried it around with me for the next couple of days, waiting for the perfect moment to eat it, to enjoy it as much as I possibly can. And then, I was sitting on the couch with Alex, totally content. Calm. Serene. And I looked in my purse and pulled out the Snickers bar. Without looking at the nutritional information, without lamenting about the hours at the gym this was going to cost me, without regret or mania or tears, I ate it. The creamy chocolate, the smooth caramel and crunchy peanuts pleased me without a heavy heart, and after I finished I didn’t want another one. I smiled and continued on with my day, pleased with myself and my brief and oddly sexual Snickers bar experience.
