Eating

 

Some people smoke and some people drink, but I eat!

Eating is an insidious form of coping, an odious addiction for dealing with stress in a socially acceptable way.

It is not safe. 

It isn't even always pleasant.

It leaves an after taste of guilt and sometimes even pain.

The older I get, the fewer options I have. My feet, my back muscles, my general feeling of ennui, get in the way of other ways of coping.

When I feel good, I feel very very good, but when I feel bad?

I feel tired and heavy, empty and wanting and I have yet to learn how to properly deal with these manifestations of the spirit.

I rearrange my furniture, shop, walk, or used to, and I eat.

The easiest of these is to eat. The chewing, the tasting, the feeling of fullness until it supersedes the size of my stomach, all fill the holes inside of me for a few moments and then they turn on me and increase my woes.

But I keep trying, hoping to redirect, or conquer this addiction that cannot be totally avoided.