I’ve become a nightime nosher — an evening couch potato, keeping my mom company, watching tv, and sharing snacks. It’s become an out-of-control addiction. I can’t seem to stop the noshing. And my weight shows it.
And that’s not all. When I get online after she goes to bed, I buy things. Mostly clothes. After all, so many of mine seem to be shrinking.
I guess it all smacked me in the head when I started taking out my spring and summer clothes (it was 70 degrees here yesterday). Can’t get the zippers up. Tight around the arms. This is bad. Very bad.
So I get online late at night (of course) and search for appetite suppressants — something to make me not want to eat myself out of my whole wardrobe — to say nothing of my health.
That’s when I discovered there’s an actual name for what I have: It’s called Nightime Eating Syndrome. WTF! I, who for the first 40 years of her life couldn’t put on weight, now has an overeating disorder.
OK, I know. Appetite suppressants won’t solve the problem. I eat because there’s nothing better that I’m free to do at night. I’m addicted and I don’t know how to stop. I already take something for depression, so just fiddling with my seratonin is going to help. Maybe blogging it all will.
And there’s the second addiction: buying stuff. I Google “shoppers anonymous.” So, while I can buy this for my nighttime eating disorder, that would just feed my other addiction. Talk about a rock and a hard place.
Hmm. So, maybe if I get on my laptop while I sit with my mother as she watches television at night, then I can get on some shoppers anonymous and carb addicts sites and get some moral support. Maybe I can start a Nightime Eating Syndrome weblog.
And then I’ll just shift my addictions to whatever I can do on my laptop.
Days are OK. I keep busy. And the garden-planting season is almost here.
But it’s the night. It’s always the night.