Shame on Me

I feel ashamed when I eat.

Even after years of counseling for binge eating.

The shame isn't just when I binge. It's every time I eat. It doens't matter if it's a hard boiled egg or a bag of cookies. The only difference is the amount of shame I feel.

I don’t remember a time when I didn’t feel that way, and it wasn’t until the shame lessemed that I even realized it was always there.

And the shame isn't just limited to eating. A year ago I was driving to work, late. And I was trying to think of an acceptable cover story, something that would be ironclad but also mundane. I kept berating myself for letting it get so late, (10 minutes) and remembering all the times I'd ever been late to anything. But it's not as if I come in late all the time. In fact, I'm pretty punctual. So I pulled up to a light and wondered, what if I didn't lie, what if I just told them the truth or a version of the truth? Shame welled up at the thought of saying I was late because I had to re-wrap my foot correctly because of my plantar fascititis.

My cheeks even flamed red at the thought of admitting I had a physical problem (weakness) and took time to attend to it (selfishness).

I got pissed off.

Why does my life and all my stuff have to be a secret? Kevin is very secretive and he feels so much shame at having needs and wants and desires. And I always get on him for it, but really, I'm no better. I'm worse. Why did it feel like sharing my problem was like stripping open my soul for judgement and criticism?

And that's how I feel around food. I don't like to be the only one eating. I don't like to eat portions that would fill me. I'm ashamed to be so venal and so raw. I'm ashamed at how much food plays a role in my life but when I hear other people they sound as obsessed as me- only happily so. So why should I always feel so ashamed? Why should my appetite be a secret?