Whataburger was calling to me last night. I could hear it's small, tempting voice, like a devil on my shoulder. "Who would know?" Some nice, warm, salty french fries along with college basketball talk radio on my Sirius is always a comfort after a long day.
But I knew what would happen. The scene has been repeated numerous times before. I'll head to a fast food establishment late at night, and sit in my car idling, just out of range of the speaker at the menu board. I argue with myself.
"I know I'll be miserable as soon as I wolf down this food tonight. Then I have to try to go to sleep with a stomach full of grease and carbs," the me who is speaking from the future argues.
"Yes, but right now, the craving I have and the drive to eat is just as miserable, if not more so, than the aftereffects," the present me, sitting there in the drive-thru lane, argues back.
This goes on for a while and finally I get angry more than frustrated and drive away. (Or maybe a car pulls in behind me and I have to order or leave. You've got to be careful, though, especially in drive-thru lanes that are blocked in. If there is a car or two in front of you, and you change your mind, you need to back up. But if someone pulls in behind, then you're stuck and you either have to give up and order something, OR, just wait in line and breath deeply before you can escape sans food.)
Driving away, though, is not always a solution. I've been known to drive around and then pull into the same drive thru later, and pull away again. Usually I don't do so a third time, in case the eatery has security cameras, I don't want them to think I'm TOO weird. I find another restaurant and pull into their lane, still wondering if I'll have the strength to just go home and not take a hit of my drug of choice. It is pure hell and there is nothing enjoyable in the process. Even when I do finally order something and eat it, I'm miserable.
The only time my drug works is if I am feeling manic and screaming into the void. A good bacon cheeseburger and french fries can calm down my soul. During particularly bad times, when I take those first couple of bites of fast food, I feel the anger and craziness leave my body. It is an actual physical feeling, as if someone connected an electrical wire to me and drained off the manic power. But I must find another alternative. Sometimes sitting in the bath tub, with a hot shower pounding over me and all the lights off, I can get the same peace.
P.S. people seem to be split on whether to count Subway as a fast food, but the slight majority seems to say 'Subway doesn't count.'
You can do it Brook. Keep up the good work. It will stink for a little but you will be able to concur it. You actually will begin to like to eat at home.
ReplyDeleteBrook,
ReplyDeleteI have your solution. Walk in to the restaurant. You can get out of line even if someone gets behind you, you get the tiniest bit of exercise to burn off those carbs and grease, and finally, you give the poor springs in your car seat a much needed break.