You ate two croissants and you didn’t even want them. But you were anxious and nervous and worried. About everything and nothing. And so to stop your mind, you chewed. You chewed, and mindlessly chewed, until there was nothing left. And then you ate another one, because, well, we’re already here.
Now, you feel sick to your stomach. And mad. You’re not mad about the croissants. You’re mad because the croissants didn’t taste good. You’re mad because you ate them anyway. You weren’t even craving croissants. But there they were piled in the baked goods section begging to solve your problems. And you took the bait. Again.
Now, you hate yourself. Because bad croissants make you hate yourself. Good croissants don’t do that.
-notes from my journal