Trigger warning: This post contains content that may be triggering for individuals who struggle with binge eating.
I see people post things on Facebook about having to hide the Halloween candy because yikes, It's too tempting! And, Oh my God! They ate four whole pieces and feel like a pig!
And I laugh. Because I can relate.
And I laugh. Because four pieces of Halloween candy is like the appetizer to the appetizer of my yearly candy binge.
Yup -- here we go again. For someone who has issues with food, the span between Halloween and Christmas is awesome and brutal for obvious reasons, but for an all-or-nothing type of gal like me, Halloween candy is the worst.
And the best.
And the worst.
As I type this, I'm thinking "all-or-nothing type of gal" is a kinder, gentler way to say binge eater.
So settle in for a bumpy, bingey, sweaty ride.
There was an amazing Halloween party at my mom's work last Friday. Every year, all the employees dress up, there is a flash mob dance number (if you haven't seen a bunch of receptionists and office workers dance to "Thriller," I highly recommend it) and of course, there is trick-or-treating.
So, here's what came home with me and my boys and is on my kitchen table RIGHT NOW:
Two GIANT buckets of the good stuff, no crap candy here, not a Necco Wafer or roll of Smarties in sight. And it's not even actually Halloween yet.
Of course I've eaten a bunch of it. Of course I'm trying to be all sneaky about it. And of course I'm fooling nobody, especially myself.
I mean the first Reese's Peanut Butter cup is delicious, but the ninth one is pretty revolting.
It's such a vicious cycle, it's such a drug. The high, the gut-ache, the hangover the next morning, the guilt, guilt, guilt.
Just when I think I have it under control come October, I find myself wondering how I'm still here, in this same spot in my head. And same spot in my gut. And in my thighs.
It's not the end of the world and I'm totally fine and I'm a lucky person and I know that. In the big picture I don't have any problems. My only problem today is that my skirt is tight and I'm bloated, big whoop.
But I'm tired of being a broken record that skips in the same spot every year. And not a good record like, "Let it Bleed," or "Tattoo You."
I find that I'm more like some bad album by Creed. Or maybe the "Forrest Gump" soundtrack.
Today... life is like a box of chocolate. And a pumpkin head full of Reese's, Kit Kats, Twix and caramel-filled eyeballs.