Cold Wars

Sunday night? It was not a good night. Not at all.

All that love and pride that my husband and I seemed to have for each other last week was no where to be found.

There was a cold war going down in the O’Rourke household.

After trying to fall asleep next to someone whom I hadn’t talked to in a few hours, I pulled myself out of bed and stomped out of the bedroom…

…right into the kitchen. While one hand reached for a spoon, the other was prying the lid off the chocolate peanut butter cup ice cream container. I didn’t measure out the ice cream into a distinct, Weight Watchers approved portion. I just sat on my butt in front of the computer and ate right from the container.

My husband would have been horrified.

I couldn’t have cared less.

The first bite tasted great. I had a big chunk of chocolatey peanut buttery goodness which I savoured. My favourite flavours melted in my mouth and a chill ran down into my belly.

After a few many more bites, I realized that the ice cream was just making things colder. And fatter. And unhappier.

I am a big time emotional eater. I know that it is something I will probably always struggle with. When everything else is going wrong, food is a consistent comfort. I know that I am going to love my ice cream. I know that chocolate is going to taste delicious. When I feel as though my life is out of control, my food offers the stability I crave.

So I eat.

And yet am never fully satiated.

My delicious Sunday night ice cream did nothing for me. It was the first time in these past four weeks that I have cheated. I felt gross. I felt discouraged. I felt unhealthy. And when I was really truthful with myself, I realized that I didn’t even enjoy the ice cream.

Needless to say, my frozen dessert did nothing to smooth over the frozen hearts in my household.

Food is never going to solve my problems, no matter how much I want them to. It may be a delicious diversion, but never the simple solution that I crave.

Shamefully I put the ice cream back in the freezer and dropped my spoon in the sink. I realized that as I am spending so much time and energy on my physical health, I will never be able to maintain it unless I also focus on the health of other aspects of my life.

Ice cream is no longer cutting it.

Ice cream won’t warm up the cold wars.

I have to do that myself.

Source: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MommysMiracle/~3/h5H9QJ9T9dc/cold-wars.html