We live in a culture where the relationship between food and emotion and context is inefficient. We ate because we were bored because we were very sad because we were very happy. When we want to celebrate, we go out to eat. When we are sad for the romantic breakup, we drown our feelings in the ice cream. When someone is sick or someone dies, food becomes a way of expressing sadness and support - lots of casseroles, cakes and salads.
I am not saying that it is not good. While food has inherent limitations in meeting our emotional needs, emotional connection to food is part of establishing a normal and healthy relationship with food. Food can and should bring us happiness and comfort. Imagine that some foods and aromas will get you excited: when you smell the smell of cinnamon and vanilla, you will feel the feeling of "home"; the meat pie and mashed potato dinner can provide a sense of security; when your When your sister makes your grandmother's famous broccoli casserole on Thanksgiving, you will have a desire. On a rainy Sunday, a cup of hot cocoa is a great companion for reading newspapers, and the celebration of the cake adds meaning to the birthday.
But too many of us are beginning to see food as a blanket of our emotions, and when we turn to food to provide the love and comfort we desire, they will be insensitive. Food is reward, friend, love and support. We eat not because we are hungry, but because we feel sad, guilty, bored, depressed, lonely or angry. In doing so, we ignore the internal hard-line hunger and fullness signals. And because food can't really solve our emotions, we eat, eat, eat, but never feel satisfied.
Unfortunately, most of us are in trouble at this time. We recognize the short-term comfort or pleasure we get from food and have no other skills to take care of ourselves, we rely on it to get instant feelings - better repairs. Then we fall into a spiraling decline: in the long run, eating better doesn't help us feel better; instead, it increases our guilt and anger towards our eating habits and their impact on our weight. In fact, research shows that although you can immediately get emotional comfort through your diet, the related guilt will overwhelm any emotional support you gain.
Few people understand that food does not solve the problem. It can comfort us in the short term, or distract us, but in the long run, it will only make our problems worse and make us unable to make substantial changes, resulting in greater satisfaction. And a healthier life.
This means that if you feel forced to eat because of emotional reasons, then you have no dietary problems. Do not. You have a care problem. You have not taken care of yourself. I know this is true because I used to be an emotional diners. I ate because there was something I wanted, but it was not food. I ate me because I felt lonely, and I experienced a difficult time, and, unlike people, I am always there.
But then my obsession with weight surfaced. Suddenly, the food never did. Rather than long-term comfort, I will get a short-term solution, then a more intense and longer complaint guess. The more weight I get, the more evidence I see failure. I think the more failures I have, the more I eat. Etc., etc.
Where does this idea come from? From the way we grow up.
I remember that my son was born shortly after. When he was hungry, he sacrificed. He stayed until he was full, then fell asleep and satisfied. Only when his stomach is empty again - usually within a few hours - will he cry again for food. He has perfect contact with the signs of hunger/satisfaction.
But things changed as they grew older and turned to solid food. It is not how he approaches food, but how we [my mother, one person] try to see food. I remember once Isaac was one year old and my mother was feeding his nervous carrots. He happily ate a few spoonfuls and then stopped opening his mouth. The message is clear: "No more!"
But my mother ignored the news. "Come on, Isaac," she whispered. "There are still a few mouthfuls." She tempted her spoon in front of her mouth. When that didn't work, she pushed it to her lips. Still no luck. So she became more creative. "The plane entered the hangar," she said, moving the fork close to his mouth, trying to use his fascination with the plane. "Open the hangar, Isaac."
He did not. Isaac is full and no longer interested in food. He is a smart child and knows what he needs. My mother basically told him that he is not a trustworthy judge - she, not him, knows how to manage his food intake. It was then that I understood that everything started with me!
But I don't blame my mother. My mother did not do this on purpose; she just unconsciously spread the deep-rooted dietary attribution in our culture. If Isaac [and I] didn't get them from her, we would definitely get them from elsewhere.
Our culture teaches us that having proper food time and place is often irrelevant to our sense of hunger and satiety. Think about the information we got: "I am troubled by cooking, you don't even eat?" "You can't be hungry. You just have dinner!" "Now is not the time to eat." "Clean up your plate, the children are India is hungry." "You have an A? Let's bake some cookies to celebrate." "Poorly, have you fallen off your bike? Will some ice cream make it better?"
These external clues determine most of our lives. As a result, we stopped listening to our inner cues about hunger and plumpness. Instead, we eat because we think we should; feel the feelings we don't want; commemorate the important moments in our lives; fill the gaps, we can't even clarify.
After years of turning to food for non-material reasons, our ability to sense internal signals has diminished, just like the leg muscles of bedridden people. Then, when we find that we gain weight, we try to stop our own will to reduce the impact on appetite.
Scientists have a term. "Restricted diners" are people who adjust their diet through external clues, usually to control their weight. Conversely, "unfettered diners" still rely on in vivo tips to determine when and how much to eat.
Extensive research has shown that consumers are less sensitive to hunger and satiety than those who are unfettered.25 In other words, more food is needed to make them feel hungry than unrestricted diners. More food makes them feel full. .
Orignal From: I was injured before I ate - the truth behind the emotional diet
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