Blog, Deep Archives

Food Hangover – A crazy weekend bender doesn’t always mean booze.

This weekend, I went on a bender.

My roommates were out of town, packing up the last of their belongings still left behind in their old apartment, and they won’t be home until later today. This left me, for the first time in a long while, to fend for myself. I wish I could say I had risen to the occasion and prepared for myself some delicious and nutritious meals that fit perfectly into the lifestyle I’ve been working so hard to commit to.

I didn’t.

I went out Friday, immediately after work and got a bucket of chicken, a full on 10 piece, and I went home, and ate, alone, in almost entirely one sitting. Funny thing about doing something like this, is the justification you force into your own mind. ‘I worked extra hard this week, I can afford to cheat a little.’ It’s a slippery slope, though, for a person who is basically addicted to fried chicken. All evening Friday, I felt like horrible crap. I had pushed myself all week, and probably over did my workouts, and then I literally gorged myself with chicken… delicious, delectable fried chicken. In the course of one evening, I consumed what is basically an entire day’s worth of calories for me, and would be 1.5 times the calories of a person that didn’t weigh as much as a giant panda.

That wasn’t the end of my fatty filled weekend.

After spending all night Friday night eating chicken and watching Studio 60 on Netflix, I arose Saturday to experience what I can only describe as the horrifying combination of strained muscles, greased bowels, and the sicken shame that only comes from consuming 125% of a dead bird. The healthy choice of course would have been to stretch my aching muscles, and go for a walk or do some tai chi. To work out the toxins and excess in my body with some low impact but high sweat. Instead, some insane part of my head convinced the rest of my brain that the better solution would be to play World of Warcraft without eating until I could no longer ignore the hunger pains, and then order a pizza, and 15 chicken strips… and 3 2-liter bottles of Coke Zero, because, you know, it’s zero calories.

For posterity, that would be about 1.35 times as many calories as my RMI, in one meal. I say one meal, because that’s how I forced myself to eat it, like if someone saw me munching an entire large pizza, it would suddenly intensify the shame from the fact that I did it in the first place.

Wow, that really does sound like the mindset of a person with an addiction.

They say that addiction is a biological marker found in your genes that is triggered, and once activated, a true addict will never be able to fully recover. They also say that if you have the predisposed gene, that the addiction manifests as progressive behavior in the face of consequences that range from work, health, financial, legal or even personal relationships. When I look at myself in the mirror, and realize that at age 27, I weigh in at 350lbs, with a 50″ waist, I know that I am killing myself when I eat the way I do. I talk on the phone with my father about how he has a hard time walking, because the gout has gotten that bad, but he can’t treat it because it would interfere with his diabetes. He tells me, in his jovial, casual way, that he’s changing what he eats because he got a blood clot that has caused him to have a large blind spot in his left eye. He was even very nonchalant about the stress tests and medication he was on because any moment now his heart could mutate into a giant condor and rip from his chest like a fresh burster in alien. In the way I learned from him, I make a joke about replacing his defective parts with new robot parts. Inside, I’m terrified, because I know deep down, I am a thousand times worse than he is.

I know that I’m not alone. I know that I’m not the only person in the world with an unhealthy relationship with food. I’m struggling to keep myself from relapsing into a heart attack, but it isn’t easy. So, here I am, Monday morning. I feel like I’ve been through hell and back all weekend long. I actually feel worse this morning than the worst alcohol induced hangover I’ve ever had, and I know deep down inside its because I don’t have a problem with alcohol. I’ve never given in to it and let it fully control me against my will.

I wish I could say the same thing for food. You trade one addiction for another, they say, addicts are addicts. You can never stop being an addict. I should probably go to a meeting.

“Hi, My name is Matt, and I’m addicted to Fried Chicken.” It would be funny if it wasn’t true.

Today, today, I start again. Today is day one of sobriety.

Published by M.A. Brotherton

M.A. Brotherton is a writer, blogger, artist, and fat-kid from the suburbs of Kansas City, Missouri. He’s tasted a little bit of everything the Midwest has to offer, ranging from meth-tweaking rednecks in massive underground cave complexes to those legendary amber waves of grain. When he’s not writing, he spends most of his time screwing around on the internet.

8 thoughts on “Food Hangover – A crazy weekend bender doesn’t always mean booze.”

  1. Brandee says:

    The only thing I can say to you, my friend, is that everybody slips up. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Today is a new day, and you do the best that you can. We’re our own worst critics, and we certainly are the worst cheerleaders when it comes to ourselves. (Jeez…sounding decidedly Dr. Phil-ish or something here.)

    So, here’s me, stepping up as your cheerleader (even though I despised cheerleaders in high school) and telling you to hang in there. You can do better today. I’ll drag my butt to the gym tonight, and eat a salad for lunch in support.

    Go, Matt, GO! Sis boom bah, and all that jazz!

    Brandee

    1. M.A. Brotherton says:

      Thanks. It really helps to know there are people out there puling for you. 🙂

  2. Melailya says:

    HI, MY NAME IS BECKY, AND IM ADDICTED TO BREAD CO AND MCDOUBLES. ||hug||

    1. M.A. Brotherton says:

      Becky, you are a peach.

  3. Tracy Ann Mangold says:

    Oh Matt. We have all been there. We will all do this at some point. The beauty of it is that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it.

    We are here for you. We don’t judge. We HEAR you. Good lord-I’m not so much a sweet junkie but GOD HELP me if I had an unlimited supply of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.

    You have to just take care of you The point is to do our best – one step at a time. Get up, brush ourselves off and keep on going.

    You can do it. Like Brandee said. Stop being SO hard on yourself. <>

  4. Jen says:

    First: Yeah Studio 60! I have a secret crush on Aaron Sorkin.
    Next: Would it make you feel better if I told you that roughly three hours after your binge, I cooked and then ate an entire box of Velveeta Macaroni and Cheese? And that I justified it by telling myself that I’d done circuits all week at the gym, so “Why not?!” (that’s a true story)
    3. Next time, if you need a fix, go through the drive through and get only ONE drumstick. Then drive away.
    4. Keep on going. You’re not the only one with an unhealthy relationship to food. It sucks.

    1. M.A. Brotherton says:

      Aaron Sorkin is my Hero. I miss Sport’s Night, but its actually Bradly Whitford that usually pulls me into a new show.

      I might actually try the one drumstick thing. I’ll consider it the methadone to my fried chicken heroine.

  5. Mari says:

    Yikes. I always think addiction is sensual pleasure gone wrong… when something leaves the realm of pleasure to become pain. I like Jen’s idea of going through for one at a time. More than one thing I’d like to try that with. *hugs* Matt, bender or not, you’re still the Matt we come here to read… and you’re okay!

Comments are closed.