For years, I've heard that "feel the feelings" phrase and I kind of thought I was doing it. But it wasn't until this week, that I finally got it.
I got very painful news at work, something that affected all my plans and my future. No, not fired or laid off, but that level of impact. When I got home, I let myself feel whatever I wanted: angry, frustrated, broken, embarassed, hurt, guilty, depressed. I probably went through every emotion possible in 48 hours, including laying away at night arguing to invisible coworkers or berating myself for not being perfect, then forgiving myself for not being perfect.
And you know what? For the first time EVER, I didn't eat my way through a life crisis. I literally was not hungry Thursday night or Friday night. The thought of food was not appealing. At all. I had to force myself to eat enough for MFP to let me finish my log (it's 1000 calories minimum, which I had never known, so that tells you how much I love to eat).
In letting myself feel everything and not judge those feelings or try to shut them off, I didn't need to find comfort in the food. That package of cookies sat on the counter. The frozen pizza stayed in the freezer. The car keys stayed in the purse, because I didn't need to make the binge run down to the grocery store.
I found comfort in myself, in letting myself feel all the pain and anger and sadness. And I found comfort in friends, one here, one on twitter, who said just the right things to make me start to see things in a different way (Thanks, Cheryl, you were the MFP one!)
This morning, I woke up and something clicked. I said out loud: It's just a f*cking job. It's not my life.
And then I realized I was ready for breakfast.