Tom's Compulsive Eating Battle

It was an accident. I never intended to walk down the cookie aisle. I was really heading over to the vegetable section for lettuce. But there they sat, so innocently: President’s Choice Chocolate Chip Cookies, my favorite! I could feel the twinge of anticipation as I lay them in the shopping cart. Five hours had passed. The anticipation grew to urgency. I grabbed the cookies from the kitchen shelf. I had moved my well-worn chair into place, positioned the tray on the left side of the chair, found the converter, poured the coke over ice into my favorite mug. I flipped on the TV; then with a sigh of great happiness, I sat back to enjoy every bite.

It was a short, empty experienced. I felt cheated. Now I sit with nothing left but cookie crumbs and a chocolate aftertaste. As always, here comes the guilt to ruin the fun. I try to rationalize, but the voice of guilt is relentless. I sit in the dark, wondering if I will ever be able to become that mythical me that I see only in my dreams — thin, young, healthy and free. The problem is, as of late, it is becoming harder to dream. My battle with food addiction was long and painful.

I remember the Battle of the Bulge. The Ponderosa Salad Bar suffered a six-plate defeat. I remember a war with a chocolate Easter bunny. In the middle of the night, I bit its head off. I admit it. I was a food addict. My life was controlled by food. Moderation was never my strong point. When it came to ice cream, one scoop was never enough. I once ate a two-and-a-half gallon tub of maple walnut ice cream. It almost froze my stomach. To make matters worse, it was my roommate’s ice cream! I felt so badly afterwards that I put a 12-foot chain through the handles of the refrigerator and cupboards and told my roommate, “here’s the key to your food.” He wasn’t impressed.

I was not overweight, because I had a fast metabolism, but I desperately wanted to eat nutritiously to help heal the damage from drug abuse. Although I had gotten free from drugs, I felt weak and sick. The only way I felt better was to eat a light diet, but the more I tried not to think about food, the more obsessed I became. I would stop eating cookies for three weeks, eat one cookie, and then relapse with a cookie binge. No cookie was safe from me. In minutes, a bag would be reduced to crumbs. If it wasn’t cookies, it was chocolate. I became a chocoholic with a $28-a-day habit. I could drive only short distances, as I would have to stop every 15 minutes for a chocolate fix. Mornings were hell. There is nothing worse than a cocoa bean hangover. After hating myself for being so weak, I’d make a decision to stop, only to take another beating from Mr. Big.

Reading the Bible, I was amazed at the discipline of the Apostles. They were focused, resolute, persistent and patient. Meanwhile, I couldn’t win a battle with a peanut butter cup. In hand-to-mouth combat, I would come out a loser. I so wanted to be like those men of God!

I needed discipline. So off to the gym I went, dragging a drug-abused body through the paces. Little by little, discipline developed. I could even juice fast and my body was starting to feel much better, but in the area of diet, I was still battling with food.

I felt out of control.

The battle within my soul went on for many years, sometimes achieving victories over my compulsive behavior, only to fall again. And how I fell! Compulsion, obsession and addiction carry a stiff price. But just when all seemed hopeless, understanding came and that lead to the writing of the book Eating In Freedom and the creation of www.compulsive.ws. It is my hope that you too find your freedom.

Tom Coghill