After 21 years of miserable existence, I have finally admitted to myself. I have a problem. A terrifyingly addicting problem: I am an eataholic.
They say the first step to a cure is admitting you have a disease.
Unfortunately, my disease is necessary to my continued existence. You see, eating, unlike drugs, sex, alcohol, or gaming, is a necessary part of life. And since I have no intention of dying (of starvation no less), I am in quite a pickle. Mmm...pickles...
The problem isn't so much eating...as it is over-eating. On an average daily basis I would approximate that I eat maybe 3 meals worth of food in one sitting. And I can't help myself. Once I put something into my mouth, my brain no longer controls my body. My stomach does. No, not even my stomach. My stomach often cries out in pain as I continue to gorge on delicious treats. It's my mouth. Damn my mouth to the nine circles of hell!
But in all seriousness, my desire to eat truly dictates my life. Even when I tell myself that I'm going to control the size of my meals for the day, I end up failing miserably. The first servings only whet my appetite - appetizers for a grand feast that my brain doesn't want to consume. My god even right now I'm very tempted to stop typing this post to find a tasty snack to munch on. The SHAME.
...I need help.
...help me. Please?