Do I obsess about food, or do I eat mindlessly?
Do I eschew control or relish it to the exclusion of making good choices?
What is moderation, really? Boring, pedestrian frailty, or lightning in a jar? Can moderation actually be acute control over my more wayward compulsions or is it merely the negation of life’s peaks and troughs? Prozac to living.
Why do I primly eat like a pious believer during the week and gorge myself like a death row agnostic on weekends?
Can I overlay what I learned at Narcotics Anonymous on this programme and replicate that success? Why not? Why NOT…??
There are so many questions and I not only want all the answers – ALL of them – I want them to be quick fixes with minimal emotional cost. Is this possible? Why not? Why NOT…???!
After tonight’s Overeaters Anonymous meeting, one answer I do have is that I don’t have any of the answers. None at all. Not one that fixes any of this.
And that’s ok. Because what I do know now is that there are answers out there, I just need to know which questions matter, because not all of them do. Many of them just get in the way, or are that conniving inner voice, Slick, undermining all my progress.
Slick, who tells me that moderation is bereft of any validity as something that engages me. It is the single bite of a cake. It is the heavy petting instead of the rough, anonymous sex. It is the driving at 110 instead of 140. It is safe in the way that safe is dull, dreary and unappealing. It is boring and it is mundane and it is a blight and the end of personality. That has become my default understanding of moderation.
Not only do I eat too much, I think too much.
I think I need Overthinkers Anonymous right now.
© Dave Luis 2017. All Rights Reserved.