I think I may have a split personality. I think the rift between the two identities is growing in such a way that they will be irreconcilable soon. I need help, I think, to bridge the gap, bring the identities together so that I can survive as a single person.
Allow me to elaborate:
I, being of a singular, largely healthy brain, have recently begun to detect discrepancies in my memory, in my logic, in my actions. During the day, I find myself very conscious of my decisions. I eat moderately, I squeeze myself into non-elastic bound pants, I drink water over high calorie sodas. I have eschewed alcohol for all intents and purposes during the bright, sunlit hours of summer. I want very much to weigh less and be healthier. I have taken up modified pilates and yoga to help strengthen my ailing back. I have the desire, yea, the deep desire to be a strong, slim person.
However, as night falls, something truly terrible happens. There is a darkness that creeps through my brain and corrupts it. Completely.
In the evenings, in front of the television or even while reading my escapist fiction, something grumbles from within. It is....my stomach.
My stomach compels me to do things my daytime self would never do. My stomach compels me to eat hideously fattening foods. Many of them. Freed by the non-confining elastic of my pajamas, my evil nighttime identity consumes everything. Yearns for chocolate chips or french fries or potato chips. Must have junk food. Eats voraciously, disregards all consequence for the poor soul who rises in the daylight surrounded by the crumbs of the previous eve's food orgy.
My evil nighttime self cares not for the agony of the day time creature when she rises and steps on the scale, the scale whose numbers climb in a seemingly endless increase of numbers towards what? Whale? Rhino?
How will this stop? How can I dig down to find the willpower to contain that nightmare creature, that shadow self of day?
What do I do?
In the evening, alone or with my hubby, a beer seems so refreshing. A licorice straw so innocent. A scoop of ice cream so guiltless. He snacks without consequence. He is in control. I cave in to the dark side.
How does the discipline of the day go so readily by the wayside? How do the cravings that were easily stamped out in the bright day overtake me in the dark? Why can't I keep my freaking mouth shut and stop putting food in it?
WWWWWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYYYYY!??!?!?!
I need Mary Reilly. Mary Reilly to stand in front of the pantry and hold me true to my daytime self. A lock named Mary Reilly on the cupboards, the fridge, the liquor cabinet. Those bastions of calories. Those places where the dark forces grow and tempt me. I don't need a lovestruck assistant, rather the opposite. I need a stern-faced meanie who will protect me from myself. I need to stop eating so much.
I will continue this dangerous tango until some one can help me. This fatal dance may well end with me as a hippo in a tutu if my daytime persona cannot regain some control over the situation. Please, I beg of you, dear reader, help me, Mrs. Hyde, destroy.....ummmm doughnuts.
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