Emotional Eater = Weight Gain

Well. All the weight I lost before my 30th bday, I have now put back on.

I have always been an emotional eater. If I’m sad I eat. If I’m mad, I eat. If I’m happy, tired, sick, giddy, frustrated, stressed, depressed, hung over, lonely, I eat. I surround my life with food.

I go to bed thinking about what I will have for breakfast. I eat breakfast, thinking about what I will have for lunch. Lunch isn’t even all the way gone and I’m thinking about dinner. If I make plans with friends, it involves drinking and food. Dinners out, lunches out – lets meet for a drink, then get hungry and order food. I end up going out to eat a lot with friends and I don’t order something healthy. It’s usually a pasta dish, with alfredo sauce, with extra cheese.

I try not to buy a lot of bad food from the grocery store. I go to the store buy fruits and veggies, but they just sit in my fridge and go bad. I thought I did very well breaking these habits, letting myself have some good stuff every once in a while, but keeping up with the working out and smart food choices.

Then Brendan died.

I didn’t eat for a week or more after he died – drank plenty of beer though. Then emotional eating set in. I would make a meal of some sort of pasta, eat more than I should, then have a bowl or two of cereal, and then some ice cream. Yes, that is a true story. My will power has left the building.

I’m disgusted with myself 90% of the time. I know maintaining a certain weight or look is about moderation and exercise. Both of those things have ceased in my life. The way I talk to myself, is horrible. I would NEVER let anyone else talk to me this way, yet I beat myself up constantly. I haven’t done anything to fix it though.

I need something to shake me out of this funk and get me in the gym again, but only I will be able to do that for myself. I have had plenty of friends try to get my back in the workout groove, but until I get it through my head, I’m going to feel this way and I’m sick of it.

WAKE UP HOLLY!

Enough already.

In my whole 30 years of life I've probably been to.... 5 - 6 funerals. I remember my friends mom funeral 8th grade year, another friends moms funeral sometime in high school and then my friends sisters in 2007ish.... I'm sure there were ones I went to when I was younger like my G-ma and G-pa Moeller - but I don't recall these...

In less then 6 months I have been to 3 funerals. My dearest wonderful friend Brendan's whose death still haunts me every day. I realtor who I didn't know, who was murdered, but a friend needed my support so I went. She was 27, beautiful and from everything I heard a great person. The service for this girl was hard, and I didn't even know her.

Last weekend we went to Texas for my Grandma Fredericks funeral. When I found out she passed, I was at work, I didn't cry. I pushed it out of my head and really didn't tear up again until I saw all my aunts and uncles. I was so sad for them because they lost their mother, I can't imagine.... I have still not cried, tears, red face, but not an all out crying. I keep thinking there is something wrong with me. But again, I haven't really thought about the fact that she is gone.
I won't hear her laugh again. I won't get to have her do the chicken dance at my wedding and my kids (if I have any), will never meet their great-grandma. The eulogy my Uncle David gave was amazing, he got choked up a couple times, but was able to power through it. My Grandma was not perfect, but she was an amazing woman.

I haven't talked to any family members about it really... and I don't know exactly how my mom is feeling - maybe I am selfish.... but seeing my mom hurt, upset or crying is something I just can't handle, because it breaks my heart. Maybe I also am avoiding thinking of it, because I just don't have the strength to deal with the emotions I know will come with that. I still have a hard time dealing with the death of Brendan which was months ago... Crap.

Enough already. I went 30 years with so few bad things happening to me or my family and in 6 months time I've been thrown through the fire too many times.

I will miss my grandma, her Big Red gum and socks on her arms.