An Essay by Tiffany Rose-Masella
When you ask someone what their favorite food is, you can see there eyes light up as they discuss their love affair with a certain edible object on their mind. One that brings them so much immense pleasure that you can see their expression show off their adoration for the grub of their choice. However, whenever someone would ask me what my favorite food was, I’d sink. Down into the deep, dark, mushy scary pit of my empty stomach, I would see fits of my manic behavior flash before my eyes. The behavior no one would see, except my own ashamed eyes as they watched my hands guide food, after gloriously awful food into my mouth, until I felt sick to my stomach.
The day in the life of a “binger” is so unimaginable to some people that it makes you want to crawl under the ground and set your roots down for centuries! Our society worships eating these decadent foods and eating them simply because you like them, and eating them until you can’t fit into the jeans you wore just yesterday. This is why so many people do not understand or take binging as a serious matter.. Except the difference between them and me is that eventually their brain can tell them to stop eating... but my brain is silent as i shovel food down my throat so I can feel something! Feel the comfort of the warm food hitting my throat and drifting down into me and filling me up.
But then the food hits your stomach.
You either want to stuff your face some more or throw everything up until your stomach is rumbling and you somehow feel proud that your stomach is rumbling because you only get satisfaction from the emptiness you feel in your belly or the comfort you get from eating. It’s so bipolar, but it’s how I am. I am wired this way - millions of people are wired this way.
I hate food.
I love food.
I obsess over food... and it fucking sucks!