I Will Eat Myself Thinner!

This is what I’ve noticed about trying to lose weight.  

I eat more.  Here’s how it goes:

I eat a brownie. I’m mad at myself for eating the brownie. Then I think, “Well, I’ve already blown it, might as well just torpedo the whole day.”  

Four brownies later I’m contrite and ready to walk-the-walk. Now I will eat celery to make up for the brownies. So, I eat celery. I should add some peanut butter for protein because protein staves off hunger pangs. But how many points are in peanut butter? One tablespoon is three points.

WTF? A tablespoon?

I just ate three tablespoons of peanut butter.  

I’ve eaten enough peanut butter to get six North American Brown Bears through winter hibernation. I’ve eaten enough peanut butter to fuel Michael Phelps to his 17th Olympic Medal.  I’ve blown the day.

Might as well finish off the Halloween candy.

Yes, I know it’s two-and-a-half months old and probably has enough formaldehyde to preserve a whole mischief of mice, but screw it!  …

… now I have to drink to forget.

Yes, I know Bailey’s Irish cream is the tipple of teenagers because it tastes like chocolate milk with a kick, but it’s the perfect thing to wash down that Abba Kazabba bar.

My teeth feel sticky.

I floss, brush. It’s like I never ate anything at all. My mouth feels so … virginal.

I must start over

  • I’ll roast a chicken for dinner.
  • I’ll steam broccoli and carrots.
  • I’ll sprinkle it all with flax seeds for colonic health.
  • I’ll squeeze a few fish oil tablets over the top.
  • I’ll puree some celeriac sans the f-ing peanut butter.  
  • I’ll serve my family this nutritious feast.

I’m saintly now. Madonna. The mother of Jesus, not the one who made a coffee table book called, “Sex.”  

The little children will come unto me for their nourishment. Why won’t the little children eat the broccoli? Why do they whine for something more palatable … like a corn dog? Why don’t they appreciate my ministrations, flagellations, self-immolations on their behalf? 

Where are those fucking brownies?

(Me and Roman Coppola in a still from the never-released “Smash, Crash and Burn” circa 1989 when I had the metabolism of a hummingbird. Oh, who am I kidding? This has nothing to do with the post. I just look so cute!)

I still haven’t found Geneen Roth’s “Women, Food and God.”  

I am ordering it online as we speak. But, I am not spending frivolously because I have a Barnes-and-Noble gift card!

I know this: All the sins are emotional.

  • Boredom.  
  • Sadness.  
  • Loneliness.
  • Need for comfort.
  • Jealousy.
  • Yearning.  

I know I can’t “vanquish” them. I have to accept them. They make me human.  

After accepting them, I have to love myself through them, not just once, but every day. Easier said than done I know, but I’m on it. I am on the case!

10 thoughts on “I Will Eat Myself Thinner!”

  1. Food and emotion…it’s nuts isn’t it? My thing is peanuts. I’ll sit and pull out the peanuts just because I need something salty and crunchy with no thought to hunger. Loved the pic. Think I had same hairdo and skirt. (Well, it was my roommate’s skirt. Same thing.)

    1. Shannon Colleary

      Hi Jamie — There’s this great line from Andi MacDowell in “Sex, Lies and Videoptape,” where she basically says when she’s happy she gets fat. I was so skinny when I was with cheating men. I think, perhaps, I’d rather be more Rubinesque.

  2. You DO look cute in that picture! More than cute. You look hotttsicle. Also, I want your toned, strong thighs. Hi, super creepy.


  3. HA! You’ve crawled into my days that start with good intention and end with delicious guilt. As for Bailey’s, I was more of a cheap Boones Farm girl trying to keep my big hair from taking over.

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