Today some other frustrations got the better of me. I don't drink, so instead of hitting up a bar and drowning my sorrows in liquor, I resolutely turned my brother's PT Cruiser in the direction of the Wal(STAR)Mart. I decided to buy whatever I was craving, good or bad. I don't starve myself, but I usually try to eat healthy foods. But today, if I wanted to eat an entire bag of Doritos, so be it.
The little blue basket swung merrily from my arm as I stumped through the candy, bread, and cookie aisles (usually carefully avoided territory). I ended up with a box of Little Debbies (Swiss cake rolls), a package of Double Stuff Oreos (my first in MONTHS), a small box of Junior Mints, and at the last minute, a Kit Kat.
The cashier looked at me with a little bit of pity, a little bit of disgust . She asked with a very condescending smirk, "Did you find everything alright?"
I grinned, completely unembarrassed. "Yup!"
And so I set off for home. I put this song on repeat and cranked up the volume. (By the way, if you're wondering what it's like to live with an anxiety disorder, it's like that song.) I sang at the top of my lungs, way past the top of my range, all the while popping Junior Mints. I got home, warmed up some pre-made Pasta-Roni, and plopped down in front of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince with a mug of milk, my chocolate, and a journal to fill with ACTF memories.
At the end of the night I had devoured 7/8 of a box of Junior Mints, one whole Kit Kat, and a double package of Little Debbies. You know what the best thing is? I don't feel guilty about it at all. I don't care. Calories, shmalories. It's my life, it's my body, I usually take really good care of it, and one night of indulgence doesn't spell the end of the world. I needed to just do what I wanted to do for a couple of hours. So I did it. And I think I'm the better for it.
I don't plan on pigging out every time I'm in emotional crisis (and indeed, I usually avoid emotional eating). So.
Really delicious treaty-treat snack foods.
Alone time (bot not lonely time).
Overall, not such a bad evening.
As a PS-type side note, I decided not to attend Pulse, which is a bit of a breakthrough. Ann, if you read this, I decided the obligation I felt to the School of the Arts was ridiculous. I don't need to see the show, and not seeing it doesn't make me a bad person. I don't have to make myself sit through it if I don't want to. So.
Jrunk food. Heh? Heeeeh?
I'm not funny.