I’m an emotional eater.

That is THE BEST way to describe 90% of my food choices. haha.  Breakfast is typically greek yogurt with some flavored cheerios of sort.  Lunch is a turkey and cheese sando I make at home, with cottage chez sprinkled with garlic powder.  Dinner is either a pb&j sando on the way home or carrots,zucchini ,and humus.  If I stick to the plan I won’t spend money on “outside” food.  It’s only if I’m… sad, angry, depressed, anxious, celebrating, nervous, hiding, happy, giddy, starving, excited, bored, tipsy, drunk, hungover, lethargic, mellow, melancholy, hyper..–or any synonym thereof of any of the listed words..then I will eat something bad for me, or not-good for me, or god forbid TASTY.

If I remain on autopilot, I’m fine, it’s when I’m not on autopilot that I emotionally eat.

I quite fancy my job, and the people I work with.  They are good people, save the few ondescending moments here and there when I have done something wrong.  However, I weigh that against the “what are they REALLY saying though” because sometimes inflection needs to be cast out.  Some people never learned how to lead or manage, and in those positions there is always a learning curve.  I don’t think I’m treated poorly by any means.  I like the place, I like the people, I like the clients.  Can’t really go wrong there.  I go into autopilot when there, with my eating.

I’m in school.  It exhausts me to be in school full time while working full time.  EXHAUSTS me.  I have been the girl at the end of the bar studying, highlighting, coloring, and making flashcards in between Jameson and Gingerale.  I have gotten my ranch/ketchup dip on handouts from classes that I have taken notes on from other classes in different colored ink.  I do not fancy the dogear-method.  I look at my notes and books on the train to-and-from places like…work and school.  Which seems to be all I have time for.  Other than that I’ll read whatever book I want to, whichever I’m in the mood for or in the middle of at any given moment.  I don’t tend to read one book only at a time, I read 2-3 at a time.  Like watching shows on Netlix, Sometimes I’ll watch one show for a few episodes, then I move on. This is not uncommon.  This is also performed on autopilot.

In my “free” time, albeit few and far between I like to go to a few places.  I like to go to Book Off, a used book store.  Well, not just used books, used video games, DVD’s BluRays, and electronics.  I like to mosey thru there and look at everything.  I like to waste time in there.  I apparently like to waste my free time…

In my “free” time I like to go to Jersey and see my nephews and their parents.  I like to sit on my bed and watch Netflix shows and Amazon Prime and Crackle.  I like to watch the movies I’ve purchased at Book Off. I like to just be alone, in my free time–sometimes.

Sometimes I like to go to the theatre and see a show.  Not the movie theatre, although that too.  I mean live shows.  Broadway and Off-Broadway, etc.  It is a bittersweet flavor, when I go.

I used to be an actor.  I used to be one of those people that auditioned with monologues, and 16 bars of music and a dance routine, or commercial sides, or movie or TV sides.  I used to do it all.  Well, I used to try to do it all.  And I loved it, truly.  I enjoyed the auditioning process, I enjoyed the rehearsal process.  I loved the rush of performing.  I like figuring out how to get to my mark naturally when filming.  I liked getting the opportunity to try a line ten different ways.  I liked performing live, or for the camera.  During this time in my life, I was never on autopilot.  During this time I was present and flustered and excited or upset or nervous or calm or meditative or bouncing.  I spend a lot of time in my brain thinking of the best way to do something, over thinking would disallow an honest reaction, but that meant I wasn’t…actually..present.  During this time in my life, I made conscious eating choices.  I either got in “health mode” making sure everything I ate was good for me.  Fueled me, because I was always on the go and it was all what I wanted.  OR I was so whacked out with adrenaline and nerves and time constraints that I ate anything that was available to me.

And we all know what kind of food is quickly available to us… The easy sugar and salty treats with no nutritional value. the mystery meat products and fries.  Granola bars, fruit snacks, popcorn, candy, chips, coffee, cocktails…

Then I don’t know how it happened, but I’ve gained all this weight…??? I was so active with my singing and dancing and driving to auditions, and sitting and waiting, and all the crap I was eating.  Now I’m sad–so what am I going to eat???

Exactly.

emotional eater.

So I think of what I have to do to make it all stop.  Stop the ever-present, stop the over-thinking, and under-eating of good food.  I have to find a way to stop the rollercoaster of being happy I got an audition, and the sadness that I didnt’ get booked.

I just had to stop it all.

and it makes me sad to do it.  And it makes me sad to think about it.  And it makes me sad to talk about it. And it makes me miss it So I pack my lunch…and dinner…and get to work or to school.

Because it’s safe.

then in my free time I’ll go to a play and enjoy and remember.  I”ll laugh and cry, for various reasons.

“It’s a monologue, not a noose” That’s the line that stuck out the last time I went to see a play.  A place called “What Was Lost” and one of the characters is Tennessee Williams and he’s talking to the actor portraying the mom in his play The Glass Menagerie, and he yells to her “IT’S A MONOLOGUE, NOT A NOOSE.” and it’s brilliant, and it lands and it has excellent effect and affect.

And i freeze.

isn’t it…though?  Acting? Performing? Doing your best to “get it right” and get it right over and over and over.  It can drive you insane.  Because we are SO invested.  We want to honor the lines and character by speaking their truth and we work so hard, and we starve ourselves to FEEL, and stuff ourselves to FEEL, and we try different tactics to get the reaction we want.  We establish our intention and we do anything and everything we can to GET IT.  At least, that’s what the goal is.  That’s what’s invested in the lines and the story telling.  That’s what invested in the monologue.  And we do it to our own deaths.  We do it in hopes we have connected to closely and have done the hard work so diligently, that we disappear and all that exists at that moment is the character, in the story.

And it’s terrifying.

And it’s beautiful.

And it’s makes me yearn to work at it again.  So that I can say a line like that and mean it and feel it and own it.  So that a line like that can be said to me and i can feel it land or hit me in the chest like a bullet affecting me to no end.

But I sabotage myself.

Autopilot is safe.

Safe, and boring…

I’d like to take a look at that rope.  Not to die–but to live.