No Use Crying Over... Egg Rolls?

Last night I cried.
I cried over an egg roll.
Yes, an egg roll... The deep fried pastry stuffed with veggies and pork and dunked in soy sauce.
I don't even like egg rolls that much.
But there I was in the kitchen, tears coming out of my eyeballs.

I am just being honest here, people.

Why in the Moses would I cry over a stupid piece of food?
It wasn't about the egg roll itself... I promise...

I am tired of being addicted to food.

I am tired of passing restaurants on the road and thinking about all the delicousness inside.
I am tired of going into a restaurant, really wanting to make the right decisions in my heart of hearts, but not being able to say no to cheese sticks and Mt. Dew.
I am tired of watching the scale go up and having to buy bigger pants and somehow justifying it in my own mind reaching a new level of denial.
I am tired of it all.

And I am scared.
I am scared that something as ridiculous as food could be so controlling, so consuming.
I am scared that I spent so long not knowing I was addicted.
I am scared that it is something I will never not face.
I am scared that I will never be able to overcome this.
I am scared that I have tried so many times before and failed.
I am scared this time won't be any different.

And so, when I was offered an egg roll, and I knew I had already hit my calories for the day and it wasn't healthy but I wanted it anyways, it was like I had been slapped in the face with all my frustration and fear all at once. Who knows why it was an egg roll that would do that.

But my husband took my hand and he gave me a hug and told me that this time was different. He reassured me that we have more motivation, we are in it together, and we had accountability now.

Addiction sucks. It isn't like heroin, so hear me when I say that. But I have finally come to the understanding that its there and I have to deal with it and I can conquer it.

This time is different. This time I am doing it.