Convenience Store Epiphany

So back in April I had a major epiphany that has completely & irrevocably changed my life and, for reasons I don't fully understand, "fixed" my relationship with food. There were two major results of this experience: I am no longer a compulsive eater, and for the first time in my life, I can say without any hesitation, "I know what I want to do with my life." Actually it's more like "I know what I was meant to do with my life," but that sounds a little woo-woo and I'm trying to maintain a grounded, rational discussion here.

Prior to April 15, 2008, my thinking was, "I want to be a writer." After that day my thinking was, "I AM a writer." I was not published on that day, I did not "sell" a screenplay, I was not accepted into the fellowship program I applied to in February; in fact, I received no validation from any outside source that this was the path I should take. It was like a bolt of lightning out of the sky - a sudden and unwavering awareness of who I am.

Sitting in my room that night, I knew a fundamental shift had taken place, I could FEEL it, but I didn't know what it meant or how it was going to manifest itself. Would I stop being a slob now and be able to keep my room clean? Start being responsible with money? Stop procrastinating? For days I tried to pinpoint the effects of my experience; it finally came to me suddenly a week and a half later, in the unlikeliest of places.

For the first time since that fateful night, I found myself in a convenience store. I was going to Burgaw with my friend Bridgette, who runs karaoke out of a bar up there on Wednesday nights. I had to wait over an hour to have dinner but I was hungry right then and if I waited an hour, my hunger would be out of control and so would my eating. So I was going to get a snack at the convenience store where Bridgette was getting gas. I stood about fifty feet from the entrance, psyching myself up for the experience, repeating my healthful eating mantra to myself: I can eat anything I want, I just have to want it. I was about to be surrounded by all the delicious junkfood that I love so much, that I can never trust myself around, that I have so often gorged myself on -- it requires a lot of trust in myself to be able to make healthful choices and historically, trusting myself is not one of my strong suits.

I stepped forward, the automatic doors slid open, I entered, and was immediately overcome by an overwhelming feeling of...NOTHING. Mrs. Freshley's Honeybuns to my left, candy bars to my right, Hostess snack cakes dead ahead, and I felt...NOTHING. A chill radiated through my body as I stood there, stock still, in the middle of the store, looking around in wonderment, a semi-hysterical chuckle bubbling up and out of me. I swear to god, I looked like a CRAZY PERSON.

Prior to that moment if you asked me how convenience stores made me feel, I would've looked at you like you were crazy. Don't get me wrong, I've always had a deep and abiding love for convenience stores, particularly the 24 hour variety and even more so the ones that sell Slurpies, but feelings? Not so much.

Well, standing in that store that day, I became aware of those feelings in their absence: I felt no ecstatic elation at the prospect of so much wonderful goodness to choose from, no anxiety that I wouldn't choose exactly the right items to make me feel the way I wanted to feel, no sinking feeling that I was about to once again lose control and once again disappoint myself and once again prove that I have no willpower.

I roamed the aisles in a daze, afraid to trust this odd new detachment. I forced myself to stand in front of the snack cakes, saying to myself, "OK, you can have ANYTHING YOU WANT -- what's it going to be?" Shock and awe followed when the answer came back: "Not this." WHAT?! I am giving myself permission to eat ANY yummy snack cake I want with no judgment or criticism, and I DON'T WANT ANY?!?! Who AM I???

I wandered around that store for 5 minutes, uninspired by any of the myriad choices, finally settling on a diet Mountain Dew, a pretzel/chocolate granola bar, and peanut M&Ms (my go-to junkfood because it pairs protein with the sugar). I ate the granola bar and half the M&Ms in the car, then put the candy away when I wasn't hungry anymore. I put them in my purse, and then FORGOT ABOUT THEM FOR 3 DAYS. I promise you, that's the first time in Jennie history that THAT'S ever happened.

When we got to the bar I went next door to the Chinese place to order dinner. After choosing my main dish (chicken chow mei fun) I looked at the appetizers, of which I usually get one or two or three, but found myself uninclined to order anything (since WHEN???). Thinking healthfully, I checked out their veggie selection but remained uninspired, so ended up with just the noodles. Another first in Jennie history: ordering a single item off a Chinese menu. And another: when we left, I THREW THE LEFTOVERS AWAY. I didn't do it to "be good" or for any other bullshit will-power related reason, but because there wasn't much left and it would be a hassle to carry it in the car. Normally the anticipation of having more yummy Chinese food for later outweighs any and all practicality but on that night, it didn't matter; at that moment I was no longer hungry, therefore I did not care about food.

And that's how it's been for me ever since. I was really, really scared that it was just a phase, that it would eventually pass, but Chaundra assured me that it was for real, and she was right. For the first time in my entire life, food has lost its power over me. As far as I can tell, repressing my desire to write has been fueling my compulsive eating behaviors and in the instant that I embraced my passion, my compulsion was lifted.

I've got a long way to go on the road to getting my shit together so I hesitate to use definitive terms, but honestly, my food issues -- the main aspect of my life I was seeking to address when entering therapy -- are resolved. Not only that, I've noticed other compulsive tendencies have diminished as well, and for the first time in two years, the burden of my failure to complete grad school weighs less heavily upon me.

Honestly, I thought it would take a lot longer to get here than it did. I mean, I was thinking a year, minimum, and there I was after four months. Now, I can walk into a store, a restaurant, an ice cream shop, and if I'm not hungry, none of that food means anything to me. And it's all because I stopped fighting, stopped hiding, I stopped lying to myself and faced the truth, and now I know who I really am. I feel like I've been let out of jail.