Thoughts on Comfort Eating

Life is a bit of an assault on the senses for us at the moment.  Our house sale is rattling on nicely, but is at that stage where it could all go pear-shaped any minute.  I’ve got a job interview coming up and at the moment I’m working in probably the least mellow working environment there is – I sit in a big room with lots of other people, we all wear headsets and talk a lot.  Yeah.  That kind of job.  Needless to say, I’ve been comfort eating.  Until recently it’s been little bits here and there building up into one huge guilt-inducing binge.  It has, of course, caused my weight to fluctuate an awful lot and hasn’t done me any good at all.  Which then, of course, brought me down and led to even more comfort eating.

Yesterday I decided to beat this – not by being strong and having a nice salad with a low fat yogurt for pudding, but by seriously comfort eating.  Michael and I bought pizza, garlic bread, wine and ice-cream, dedicated the evening to a certain crappy housing association for screwing us about and having a severe lack of cross-department communication, fired up Episode 3 of Ashes to Ashes and indulged our way through a fine old evening.  And yes, I did eat the entire tub of triple chocolate fudge brownie ice cream and enjoyed every last bite.  I went to bed, happy, slightly tipsy and comforted, and although it’s weigh-in day today, I don’t feel remotely guilty.

So there’s my insight for today.  If you’re going to comfort eat, do it properly, enjoy yourself, and most importantly, don’t feel guilty about it.

Right, off to magic headset land for another day as a mystic phone pixie.