Okay, so I will never downplay how horrible substance addiction is. Alcohol and drugs are a hard way to live. No question. But those aren't my addictions, and I won't talk about them.
My name is Nikki and I'm addicted to food.
I have been since I was a kid. And if I'm playing armchair psychiatrist, probably from the moment I came home from the hospital after being hit by the car and mom made me some delicious, rib-sticky, homemade goodness. After a month of being in the hospital and eating nothing but what they literally bribed and tortured me into eating, and being hurt, coming home to my family and eating that delicious food, it was perfection. And I think that's where the connection was made. Delicious food = happy endorphins.
And, as far as an addiction goes, mine is socially acceptable (in that there aren't AA meetings for people who always choose the fries over the salad, and it's easier for a fat chick like me to get a job than a heroin addict), and the thing I'm addicted to is EVERYWHERE. And the more delicious/worse for you it is, the more prolific and affordable it is.
But I don't want this to be a diatribe about the spotlight our society puts on looks, size, or health. I just wanted to remind you that when you're sitting down to dinner with your family and friends, with all that amazing and lovingly prepared food sitting front of you, the warmth and love you feel isn't coming from the food, it's coming from knowing that you're loved.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone.
