Just One More Cookie...

After being sick for two and half weeks (and eating nothing but soup, bland soup at that) I was starving. I wanted real food, solid food, junk food, or more specifically, sweets. I began eating soy ice cream and girl scout cookies religiously. When I exhausted those desserts, the cookies at the den became my life. After every real meal came a cookie. Sometimes that cookie even became my meal.

As the cookies piled in, so did the guilt. Why was I eating so many cookies? Why couldn't I stop? It felt like no matter how hard I tried to not eat that cookie, to not have that dirty Oreo freeze, the more I struggled and gave in. This resulted in eating even more cookies. I became a cookie machine. I ate them so much that my boyfriend began calling me his cookie monster. While a joke, it started to sound like an insult instead of a funny term of endearment.

A small complex started building inside of me and every time I ate a cookie I felt guilty. I would make myself swear I would not eat another meal if I had a cookie. My cookie had to be my meal. My body started to feel disgusting, I became sluggish and lazy. I didn't feel healthy in the slightest. I tried and tried not to eat those cookies, those bad foods, but I could not seem to stop. I had opened the door and it was not ready to be shut just yet. I looked up online ways to stop eating so much, ways to give up junk food for good. Yet again the more I tried not to eat the cookie, the more I wanted it. It has been three weeks since and you know what? I still want that cookie!

--Alyssa Bermudes