Looking for a fix

I think I first heard the word "fix" to mean a shot of heroin when I saw the movie "Panic in Needle Park" when I was maybe 7 or 8. Those were the days when movies were rated M for mature and there was no real age limit. The movie was an eye opener for little Stevie from the suburbs, I can tell you that. But I never put together that these people were fixing their problems with heroin, that the fix was really a "fix." I just thought it was a slang expression, and I never really thought about it.

But now I get the idea.

As a food addicted person, I'm constantly on the prowl for a fix. Fix my mood, fix my energy, fix how I feel, fix my boredom. Enhance, change, cure, modify, alter, soothe, placate, energize, mellow out, reward, punish, distract . . . fix.

I've been a doctor with an ever-complaining, ever-ill patient: myself, writing prescription after prescription for medicine I know won't work.

So yes, I'm definitely a food addict. I have been "using" since I was five years old. I first "OD'd" when I was 7 and stole a $20 out of my dad's wallet to go buy snacks at the 7-11. I bought a sack of goodies, went around to the back of the 7-11, sat down with my back to the wall and proceeded to gorge. I was pretty much in a sugar coma when my dad found me an hour later.

Most of my life I've had a $30/day habit. Another way to look at it is that I had a 5000 calorie/day habit.

When I was very poor and had only a dollar to last an entire weekend, I would go to the market and get 8 boxes of off-brand macaroni and cheese - they were 2 for $.25 - and eat one box per meal. You're supposed to make them with milk and butter, but I would make them with water and the cheapest margarine available. A box for Friday dinner; three boxes on Saturday; three boxes on Sunday; and if I didn't get paid on Monday, a box Monday night when I got home from work. I could've used the dollar to buy something healthy, but I was panicked at the thought that I wouldn't have enough food, enough bulk, enough calories to get through the weekend, so I ate this flavorless, nutritionless crap because it was cheap and filling.

Sometimes the special was frozen pot pies - 6 for a dollar. Inside the dough would be this MSG-riddled mucilagenous glop (gravy!) with one pea, one piece of carrot, and one cube of chicken suspended in it. Good times!

I don't think my addiction is a disease. I've tried since I was in my 20's to accept this idea. I know lots of people in recovery, people I admire and love, who have achieved sustained sobriety by believing in and accepting this premise, and I'm truly glad it works for them. The ability to place the "reason" for addictive behavior outside of the realm of "choice" is invaluable for many people - to get away from self-blame and self-loathing is one of the most important first steps to turning around addictive behavior, and labeling it a disease is one very good way of leaving guilt behind.

But it just isn't true for me.

There, I said it.

I don't have Voracious Ravenicitis, like Samantha Stephens did. I have a five-year-old's insecurities and fears about not being loved and being fat and being gay, and a 40-year history of treating these fears with a readily-available, gooey, greasy, crunchy, delectible, ineffective fix that even a five-year-old can score.

You don't need analyzing
It is not so surprising
That you feel very strange but nice
Your heart goes pitter patter
I know just what's the matter
Because I've been there once or twice
Put your head on my shoulder
You need someone who's older
A rubdown with a velvet glove
There is nothing you can take
To relieve that pleasant ache
You're not sick
You're just in love