I used to think that I wasn’t an emotional eater. I convinced myself that I just really like food (which is true) and that there was nothing more to it. Who cares if I spent hours upon hours fantasizing about the menus at fast food restaurants, it was only because I enjoy eating. I wasn’t using it as a distraction from my worries. Not at all.

Uh, yeah. I’ve come to realize that not only am I an emotional eater but that for years I’ve been in denial about it. This weekend has been an exercise in stress eating. On one hand I’m upset that I dealt with my stress by eating but on the other hand, I’m glad that at least I’m admitting it.

Anyway, my entire weekend was an exercise in stress eating. I snuck out to McDonald’s not once but twice. The first time I had a Big Mac meal for dinner followed by a two scoop sundae from Baskin Robbins. The second time I wasn’t even hungry but I still decided to get 10 McNuggets and a strawberry shake. The stress was brought on by house guests that my parents had over (more specifically, their two year old who never ran out of energy) and dealing with a bit of family drama. It felt like I couldn’t help myself. I knew that I didn’t even really want that food but I still went out and got it. Okay, I wanted the ice cream but it’s not like I was hungry or anything. All I know is that I need to figure out some other way to deal with stress besides running toward fast food with open arms and an open mouth.

Note: Since I was at my parents home I was unable to weigh myself because their scale is broken. I will check in with my weight tomorrow.