32 Fritos is one serving. One serving equals 160 calories. That equates to 4 points on Weight Watchers. I ate them. I ate all 32, and probably a few more if I am being hones! Then I crumbled the bag up and threw them in the trash. I pushed them down to the bottom of the bag. I took the bag out and I tied it shut. I then threw the bag in the garbage can in the garage. I ran upstairs and grabbed another garbage bag that I was using upstairs and threw that in the can in the garage on top of the one I just threw in. Why? So it would be harder to retrieve those Fritos later.
I really did not want to go dumpster diving in my garbage can. But I might. Those Fritos were comfort. They didn’t fill me up, they didn’t do a thing for me accept make my mouth busy, and fill my head with crunch so I couldn’t hear anything else (my own thoughts especially!)And that is exactly what they did, stopped me from hearing my own thoughts. The thoughts focused on fear, on isolation, on needing comfort.
Okay, I reverted to finding comfort in food. For a moment, it felt good. They crunched. They were salty. They had flavor (and they consist of only 3 ingredients so…). It didn’t last, but for a few minutes I found comfort. I was reminded why I used food for so much of my life. I used it to find comfort, to find love even though so often afterwards I felt guilty about the food. I felt disgusted by what I just ate. I then got angry with myself for allowing that to happen. It was a vicious cycle of feelings needing to be either numbed or fed and food was the panacea for both.
I rid myself of that idea and habit quite a while ago. I did’t use food the same way. I was much more conscious of what I was eating and why. What happened that this behavior reared it’s ugly head? I know, the pandemic happened. I’m safely in my home with nothing to do all day but find comfort. Some comfort is found in my work. Some in my practices such as meditation, working out, yoga, reading, journaling. Some in my connection to friends and family. Some in food. I thought I was managing it well though, food was something that I could control. Buy only what I need, cook healthy. I was doing most of that until the Fritos jumped into my cart! Then all bets were off.
The Fritos represented something for me. They represented what used to be. They represented a quick fix to the feelings I am suppressing. They showed me that I am suppressing fear. I am suppressing lack. I know those aren’t constructive feelings, they create the hoarding that is happening. I know that I would rather approach life from a place of love and abundance, but right now, fear and lack are front and center. The Fritos helped me to really see that I was not allowing myself to feel the fears that are real and inside of me. Fears about who close to me will be ill, is dealing with things I cannot help with. Will I lose anyone close through this? My fears are also about being alone through all of this. And Lack! I really don’t lack for anything except human interaction, human touch. I lacked it before and now it is exemplified! And lack of real connection. I don’t have the real connection with anyone that I once had with an old relationship. Missing all connection has really showed me how much I really miss a deep intimate connection. It has also showed me that some connections are better disconnected. Not everything should be saved. Not every relationship is necessary in every stage of life.
32 Fritos. Those 32 Fritos showed me a lot. They are in the garbage and there they will stay. Their lesson will go on through my life. Understanding what they represented and dealing with those might keep me from eating something else that really doesn’t nourish me. Then again, they did taste good!
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