I've always been an emotional eater. I am a pro at trying to smother any feelings of sadness, anxiety, or anger with food. One time, I actually drank an entire pitcher of daiquiris straight from the blender while polishing off 1/2 a carton of ice cream. (I don't recommend that. I had to crawl up the stairs - literally - not because I was "drunk" but because I was sick as can be. I can't imagine what that did to my blood sugar!)
The past few weeks have been prime emotional eating days, but I am proud to say - I NEVER let them see me sweat! Um . . . I mean . . . I didn't fall of the horse AND I didn't eat the horse! I stuck to my calories! I recorded my food! I drank my water! Instead of feeding those emotions, I turned to an old and faithful emotional tool - Big Mick!!!
Big Mick has been with me since I was a little, little girl. As a baby, mom would hold up different stuffed animals and toys in front of me. I couldn't care less until she held up a stuffed Mickey Mouse. I apparently lit up - smiling ear to ear! Before I could even walk, when the Mickey Mouse Show would come on, I would pull myself up by the TV cart, shake the cart, and squeal with delight. When mom and dad saw the large stuffed Mickey Mouse, they knew I had to have it; and it was love at first site!
Big Mick did everything with me. We ate together, slept together, pottied together (which unfortunately led to his tailectomy), and prayed together. During my bed time prayers, I would pray, "God bless momma, God bless daddy, God bless nan and paw, God bless Big Mick" then I would turn to Big Mick and say, "I God bless you, Big Mick."
This week instead of grabbing a carton of ice cream, I grabbed my old friend. It might seem like a small step, but for me, it was a giant leap!