I have some trouble with emotional eating. In the past, anger has sent me straight into that death spiral known as the carb binge. It can be so intense that in my craving, I can actually sense a phantom taste of the carbs that I crave dancing on my tongue as the saliva starts the flow in anticipation of the feast. Literally. I can literally taste the bread, the french fries, the Classic Coke. In the the past, the next inevitable step would be to gorge until I’d reached maximum satiety with a heaping steaming helping of self-loathing.

Well, tonight I am as angry as I have been in recent memory. I can taste my desire – at this moment, they are kettle style potato chips, all salt and lovely oil-saturated matrix of potato starches – and I am resisting it, but it still leaves me with the anger to manage, since I have no means of sublimating it away from my psyche. Continue reading Anger