My mom couldn't cook. She worked full time plus, had three kids in diffrent activities, (my younger brother and sister were twins), and she just didn't have a knack for it.So we ate McDonalds, frozen waffles, pizza...anything but vegtables. I don't think my body was getting the right amount of vitamans because I would be starving by seven, or mabye there is something wrong with my brain, either way I felt like if I didn't get something I would just die. My dad would hit me if I got a snack after supper so I learned to hide bread under my shirt when noone was looking and sneak into my room. I would get in my room and roll the bread into a ball so if anyone walked in I could hide it in my little fist and noone would see it. As I got older It would be more and more peices. Only at night, but night eating is bad for you no matter what age you are. I started to gain weight, not helping that I was held back in kindergarten and went through puberty in third grade so I was already developing curves and breast while all the rest of my class was still stick like. My dad was mentally abusive, sometimes physically, but not too often.(his dad was horrifically physically abusive) I never expressed what was going on at home to anyone at school and after kids started teasing me all the time for being "fat" and because I was kind of wierd (still am). I never expressed at home to anyone what was going on at school. I just ate.
I developed a REAL bread addiction. If I don't have bread I felt like I had eaten nothing. I am an emotional eater. I have a genetic disposition on my mom's side to be bigger but unlike my mom's weight that goes flatteringly on her butt and breast, mine sticks to my belly and hips. I celebrate by eating, I eat to substitue for crying, and I eat to pass time.
Now I try to drink water and go to the gym... I think this is going to be a long journey for me, but I truely am ready. If this fails I don't know what I am going to do with myself.