Posts tagged ecstacy

comfort.

Everyone has their own very special comfort foods. I have a lot of them. Depends on what kind of comfort I’m looking for. Miss my mom? Something savory and creamy, like fettuccine alfredo. PMS? Peanut butter cups. General depression/angst/cloudy day? Ice cream.  I’ve had to work on reconfiguring my comfort food needs, because a lot of what I consider to be comfort food is now mostly off-limits these days. I have been eating much more in the way of salty snacks lately. This is probably sub-optimal, but it’s probably also better for me than eating lots of sugary snacks, so I’m going to let it slide.

I was talking to Sean during dinner tonight about food (no, really!), and how Christopher was eating pretty much everything we put in front of him (cheese, bananas, pasta, salmon, roasted red peppers, eggs), and how I was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to grow up being a picky eater (knock wood). I was a picky eater as a child, and I know it was probably difficult for my mom to deal with. Heck, I was a picky eater well into adulthood. I still am, but it’s not nearly as severe. I’ll try almost anything, as long as it doesn’t have strawberries in it. Almost.

Sean observed that a lot of my reluctance to try new foods comes across as fear to him. I thought for a moment, and realized that he was right. There is fear there. See, because I am such an emotional eater, just about every food I eat is comfort food, to some extent. If I try a new food, I might not like it, and if I don’t like it, I don’t get any comfort out of it. He’s learned to introduce new stuff to me slowly, and almost always when I’m in a relatively good mood to begin with. As long as I feel safe, and as long as there is something familiar that I can eat as a back-up, I’m comfortable trying new things.

I was talking to another friend earlier today. She has similar food issues with regards to emotional eating and boredom eating. She and her husband were enjoying an Ecstacy trip together, and she said something that really struck me: “I’m filled with joy, and I’m not eating anything!” Made me realize that I really need to get to work on figuring out where else (other than food) I can find reliable joy. As long as I’m on Zoloft, Ecstacy’s not really an option (not to mention, it’s a pretty damn temporary fix).

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chocolate.

I love chocolate. I seriously, massively, LOVE chocolate. I want to marry chocolate and have little chocolate babies. I want to elope in the middle of the night with chocolate and move to Chocolatistan and spend my days and nights lounging with chocolate by the side of a chocolate pool on the chocolate terrace while a chocolate cabana boy (or girl, I’m not picky) fans me and feeds me delectable bits of pure chocolate bliss.

That said, it has been over a month since I have eaten the tiniest shred of chocolate. That’s right, a whole goddamn month. I say goddamn because I am in a relatively pissy mood. At least, I was, earlier today. I am a PMS-monster, a raging beast full of wildly fluctuating hormones and very little rationality. RAWR. Get out of my way.

Sean and I were over at Henrik and Johanna’s house tonight for dinner and socializing and toddler-playing-together. I was cranky. Crabby. Crotchety. Henrik asked what was wrong, and I told him I was having very bad PMS RAWR GRR and he said the most intelligent and perceptive thing ever: “Do you want some chocolate?”

I was actually taken aback, because I hadn’t thought of that as an option. I guess the self-brainwashing that I’ve been doing is working. I accepted a small square of some lovely dark 70% and was blown away by the taste and feel of it in my mouth. I still felt cranky, a bit. But I was starting to feel a little bit better. The four of us stood around for a few minutes discussing really wonderful chocolate (and sampled another bar that Henrik had), and then said our goodbyes and headed out.

As Sean and I were driving home, we talked. I realized as we were talking that I did not want to binge. Here I was, right in the middle of some of the worst PMS crank that I’ve had in ages, and I didn’t want to stuff my face. This kind of freaked me out. If I didn’t want to binge, what did I want to do? I don’t know. But it didn’t have anything to do with donuts or Tim Tams.

About halfway home, I felt a kind of quickening in my blood, almost like my heart racing, but not exactly that. My pulse was only slightly elevated. I realized that I was actually experiencing and noticing the physical effects of the theobromine in the chocolate I’d eaten. It was amazing. I hadn’t had any chocolate in so long that I’d completely lost my tolerance for it, and the effect from two small squares of premium dark chocolate was so utterly blatant and noticable.

As I sit here 45 minutes or so later, the physical effects have subsided, but I am having a nice, soft mental and emotional glow. Not unlike the feeling (albeit on a much smaller scale) I remember from taking Ecstacy, actually. Come to think of it, the onrush, the initial physical effects — that could also be compared to the initial physical onset of the Ecstacy high.

I don’t think I’ve ever really experienced chocolate as a psychoactive substance, before. It’s astounding. I feel pretty damn wonderful right now.

The trick at this point is to avoid chocolate until this time next month.

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