I thought this was it, I thought I was caught. In a way, I wish I was caught, I wish I was finally found out so maybe I could break free of this, but no, that didn’t happen.
Off from work and just returning from the grocery store I strategically planned what I was going to chew when I got home. I brought in my groceries and set myself up. All the bags were on the counter except for my pick, i dropped that one on the kitchen table and ripped open the cookies without even taking them out of the bag, I grabbed a red solo cup out of the cupboard and shoved as many cookies as I could fit into my mouth. Ashamed to say, I was happy doing this, I put away some groceries and then returned to the table to stuff my face after spitting out my chewed food into my cup. Suddenly, without warning, (IDK if I was so wrapped up in my insulin spike I didn’t hear the car in the driveway) the back door flies open and my husband excitedly “surprises” me on his lunch break. I’m literally standing right there when the door opens, right there, chipmunk cheeks full of cookies, red solo cup and spit in hand. My eyes fly open wide, I looked like a kid caught breaking the rules. First thing I do is squeeze the solo cup closed so hopefully he can’t see what’s in it, I swallow hard and I’m panicking inside thinking “how many cookies did I just eat” I stuff them in as much as I can so it could be 3, it could be 5 and shit how many calories is that. What a stupid thought truly bc my body is so insulin sensitive from this habit that I actually gain more weight after I chew than if I had just splurged a little. “what are ya doing babe?” My husband asks playfully, “did I catch you?” ‘Uhhhhh” I start to answer, I thought this was it, how could he not see what was happening, but before I even had to make up a story he just said jokingly, “you having a few cookies?” and starts rummaging through the cupboards “have anything good for lunch, I don’t have a lot of time” I shove my cup into one of the grocery bags and stuff it in the garbage and it’s like it never happened.
30 minutes pass quickly and with a kiss my husband is out the door. The chewing hangover is starting to set in. It’s gotten worse over the years, the bloat, the headache, the sore jaw from chewing so much, and with it, the guilt, the regret knowing I’ll look soft and chubby for the next day or two from the cookies I didn’t even eat. The only good part about the hangover is it’s gotten so bad it keeps me from chewing again for at least a day or two.
My final thought is this, did he really not know? Did he really not think twice that the cookies I just bought an hour ago were now half empty even though I’m supposedly trying to “lose weight” and “be good”, or is it that people without food “issues” would never even think or pay attention to that. Either way, I’m still in the closet.