Sunday, February 13, 2011

Obsess much?

Last year, one of my unofficial goals (ie, one not set down at the beginning of the year but one that developed) was to "let go of that which no longer served me."

I started using this mantra - ironically enough - for someone I was dating. Well, dating would be a loose term for what we were doing. Very loose. Actually it's probably not even the right word, but I'm going with it. Anyway. That "relationship" was doing me more emotional harm* than good and I needed to let go of it. As the year progressed, the mantra started applying to other things as well.

The idea of letting go of what isn't working for me very much applies to this year's goal of developing healthy relationships. Because, really, what I need to do is let go of the idea that those unhealthy habits are in some way helping me.

Take, for example, the Great Wind Experiment. Which I have concluded without testing everything I wanted to test. Mainly because I ended up trading one kind of obsession (dieting) for another. I know of some of the worst offenders and will just be careful to eat some of the other suspects when I don't have to work. Other than that, I'm just eating what I want. In moderation. Mostly. Still working on the moderation thing, but I've come to the conclusion that sometimes moderation and I just don't get along and the best thing to do is just make as many conscious choices as I can, then accept myself and my behavior and move on.

Obsession and I are old friends and once an idea gets stuck in my head, it will get turned around every which way. Every facet will be explored, every option gone over multiple times, and every eventuality planned for. My brain can be highly logical at the oddest moments (and yes, Alex, I actually heard you snort at this. Like I said, the oddest moments.) There are many situations in which this ability is highly desired. But dinnertime is not one of those situations.

Hello, my name is Kate and I am obsessed with food.

*No, not actual harm. There was no abuse going on or anything. He was just a douche that I convinced myself I liked and as a result put myself through most of my own anguish. Self-martyr, much?

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