I ate something bad and now I feel guilty. I have read one million health books. I have gone to a thousand health seminars. I have talked to nutritionists. I know that everything at a fast food restaurant was made to destroy the body. I know the chicken, fish, and beef are all hormone infused and come from over crowded cesspools of torture and insanitation. I know the western diet is just a device for population control. I know the diet is designed to keep pharmaceutical companies in business and booming. Yes, I read the book Skinny Bitch. Yes, yes, and more yes. But, I still did it again.
I still catch a craving that will last until I suffice it. Yes, I went to Chic-fila and had a fried chicken sandwich even after I swore off chicken and inflammatory food. I know the solution to all my problems yet I still indulge. I figured I can get “a little taste” and be okay. Everyone knows that certain foods can be addictive. Once you get “a little state” your brain will only crave it more. I need to retrain my taste buds, which is a chore I am still working on.
I always say I will raise my children differently. I’m not going to even let them taste bad food. I will save them. But, I need to save myself before I save them. Who am I fooling? But, my diet has a lot to do with the way I was raised. My parents are quasi health nuts but still let us eat like the average kid. We had our share of French fries and apple pies. I was a child of the ’80s. I grew up with Ronald McDonald and loved all the Wendy’s “Where’s the Beef?” commercials.
Guilt still finds me and follows me home because I know better. I fell to weakness today but will rise to greatness tomorrow. My behavior stretches far beyond food consumption. My emotional consumption has her moments as well. Every once in awhile if I miss an ex-boyfriend, especially a bad one, I will call just to hear his voice and get my fix and then I’m back on track to continue my life.
