I think I'm in love

Okay, that's a bit... strange. It's with my therapist. I really enjoy her even though I've only been to her a few times.  I went again last night, and she's really helping me wiht insight about myself.

First and foremost, she gave me some homework to do in a previous session.  It consisted of a lot of questions I needed to answer which are all food related (though some don't pertain to me as they are more binge-purge topics), some of them being open ended:  "I love food because...," "Food is the enemy because...," "After I eat I feel..."  There were also exercises where I was to draw (or post a photo, much easier) of what I think I look like and what I want to look like.  Anyway, I know it's to give her some idea of where I'm coming from.

So I'm there with her yesterday and we're going over some of the things I put down, and I told her how I had a mini binge this past Sunday.  I say "mini" because it is in NO way like what I used to do, but still... I was opening the fridge and pantry looking for something to snack on for no reason other than I had that "fluttery" feeling I get when I'm stressed.

And I'm stressed.

Hubby's job contract ends on the 25th of this month.  He hasn't been the epitome of a job-hunter, and I've been back-and-forth between riding his ass and just sitting here stewing over things:  His lack of drive, his refusal to keep up with his profession by getting periodic training, and the knowledge of what he tends to do when faced with job loss because I went through this with him once before.  I actually told him last week that if he does this to us again, I won't stay with him.

So yeah, stress.

She told me things that are as basic to us as breathing, but sometimes you just gotta hear it.  She asked me what I was feeling when I went for the chips.  I said stress (obviously).  She then asked me what I wanted to do at the moment I went for the chips, and I said scream in a pillow because I'm getting so mad and scared.

"Then do it."

"But he's there!"

"Okay, so?  DO IT.  Go upstairs, shut the door, turn on the radio, and scream in a pillow.  Beat it if you have to, but quit shoving your emotions down with food!"

"The control freak in me just can't handle not knowing what's going to happen."

"Okay, but what can you DO about it?"

"Nothing, that's the problem!  And I can't deal."

"Again, WHAT CAN YOU DO ABOUT IT?"

*sigh*  "I knew you were going to say things like this to me, and damn it, it doesn't help."

"Okay, but the reality is, there's really nothing you can DO about it.  The ONLY thing you can do is love YOU and take care of YOU.  The next time you feel this, I want you to think:  'What am I feeling?  What do I REALLY want?'  Slow yourself down and don't just be reactionary.  Go for a walk.  Sit out in the sun.  Take a bath.  Do something that feeds you without FEEDING yourself.  What I want is for you to break the habit of immediately turning to your 'drug' or 'cigarette' when you're stressed and talk yourself through it.  If you end up eating the chips anyway, then you do... but at least you did it consciously."

Omg, I love her.

I know all of this.  Who doesn't??  But still... she pushes me.  I hate hearing that I have no control over certain things in my life, but the one thing I DO have control over right now is what I put in my mouth.  THAT is the reality.

I NEED to exercise.  When I get down, I don't do it.  I know that if I did, it would release endorphines that would likely make me feel more like I can handle all of this.  And it would quell the voice in my head that is calling me a loser and an idiot for NOT doing that for myself.

All I hope is that he finds a job SOON so we don't lose our insurance.  When we do, I lose her.