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Obsession with Food: Part 1

The Obsession with Food series has come as a result of involuntarily sitting still. Of being wrestled by the purge my soul craved. As I transfer restlessness, emptiness and hopelessness onto paper-this is what has materialized. Because I’ve yet to complete it, I have no idea how many parts this will take. I am grateful for the cleansing and for the lives that are touched. I know that though this comes through me - it is also a soothing balm to others which I believe was the Creator’s intended design. I feel blessed to simultaneously be of service and a recipient of this healing.

I remember the exact moment that the sudden impulse to sneak chocolates under my pillow lodged itself in my mind. 

I was on my way to my bedroom. I don’t recall what I was doing moments prior, nor can I consciously remember my thoughts after.

I was 8.

The thought of intentionally waiting to eat my sweets alone, in the dark had a cocooning appeal that beckoned and soothed me.

I’ve been lured by the wrong thing before - but that’s a story for another time...it would undoubtedly not be the last.

As I later chewed on my secret, staring and slipping into an abyss of darkness - I felt the simulation of safety. Something I was not aware that I desperately needed.

It was no small wonder that this acute need for comfort arose at this time in my young life; I’d just been placed into foster care.

A devastating event that paralyzed me with overwhelming fear.

In my heart’s mind this shift was the final proof that I was unloved - evidenced by what appeared to be abandonment.

And try as I might this was a mental purgatorial state in which I remained for decades. And though a physical adult for many years - I was emotionally stunted at age 8.

Up until that moment I’d experienced the following:

  • An emotionally absent, authoritative mother
  • A physically absent father
  • A sexually abusive stepfather
  • A domineering grandfather
  • A passive aggressive grandmother
  • Family members who remained tight lipped neither intervening nor advocating on my behalf
  • Separation from my family
  • A group home
  • And foster care

I was traumatized.

My young mind was not designed to bear this weight alone.

And what was first created as an escape portal, later became the vise that nearly strangled me to my own death.

My obsessive thoughts, impulsive solutions and groundless conclusions.

Target #1 - My body image in conjunction with food.