There’s this train of thought that I have that drives me into the ground emotionally.

I guess I always assumed that everyone has it. But I don’t think that that’s true. I think it’s part of the addiction.

Here’s an example:

Last night I was tired and anxious and I just wanted to sleep but the anxiety had me tense and wound up. I thought to myself…

“… Gee it would be nice if my husband rubbed my back…

… Remember when our son was two and three and four years old and used to ask to have his back patted at bed time…

… Maybe he felt like this and it really helped him and it wasn’t just a stall tactic at bedtime…

… I used to do it for him sometimes…

… But most of the time if I did it I’d only do it for a really short time because I was impatient to get the bedtime routine over with so I could get on with the evening’s chores…

… He’ll be six years old this month…

… He doesn’t ask me to pat his back at bedtime anymore…

… My window of opportunity to be close with him like that is closing…

… That’s already part of the past…

… Why couldn’t I have just been nice to him all those nights and patted his back as long as he wanted me to?…

… I’m not there for my kids they way I should be…

… I’m so selfish, nothing I had to do was that important…

… I’m such a bad mother…

… I’m such a bad person…

… God, I’m awful.”

That happens to me 100 times a day. An innocent thought turns into a fall down a rabbit hole of self-recriminations and self-loathing.

It’s not normal.

I need to do something about this.

There’s too much stuff I need to do something about right now.

Maybe, just maybe if I can fix the food, this will follow.

That seems likely because I seem to remember this lifting after I got “food sober” in May of 2012. It’s hazy to me now. I can’t tap into that feeling, but I remember it being there.

First fix the food.

For now that’s going to be my mantra.

First fix the food.

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