I think this counts as disordered...
Posted: April 25th, 2016, 11:48 am
A habit or an addiction, I suppose. I gather an assortment of dessert foods, preferably chocolate-based, and a Ziploc sandwich bag, and retreat to the quiet comfort of my bedroom. I sit down at my desk and open the bag, placing it on the surface in front of me. Then I fill my mouth with as much of the food as I can. I chew it until it has liquefied, then then spit it into the bag. Careful not to swallow, I stuff more into my mouth. this process continues until the bag is full or I've run out of food. I do not swallow until my spit is clear.
It's only partially about the taste of the food for me. The real pleasure comes from the texture combinations, and trying to create new combinations. My favorite combination right now, for example, is a small chocolate ship cookie from a vending machine bag and a huge bite of a Three Musketeers bar. there is something hugely satisfying about the combination of soft, fluffy chocolate and crunchy cookie that I find intoxicating.
The ritual doesn't end once I've finished the chewing/spitting process. In my mind, I've ingested all of the sugary crap I've actually just spit into the bag, and I'm overwhelmed by feelings of guilt, disgust, and self-loathing. So I run for miles and miles, energy coming from a fuel I've never actually taken in. I know there's nothing within me, but I have to burn the imaginary calories. I berate myself for being so weak.
I'm not sure it's the ritual itself that's bad. I think of it the same way I think about biting my nails or tapping my foot. It's there, but it isn't really hurting me. The problem is that I now have the desire to spit out everything that goes into my mouth. I'm scared of swallowing the food, and it's beginning to take a conscious effort.
It's only partially about the taste of the food for me. The real pleasure comes from the texture combinations, and trying to create new combinations. My favorite combination right now, for example, is a small chocolate ship cookie from a vending machine bag and a huge bite of a Three Musketeers bar. there is something hugely satisfying about the combination of soft, fluffy chocolate and crunchy cookie that I find intoxicating.
The ritual doesn't end once I've finished the chewing/spitting process. In my mind, I've ingested all of the sugary crap I've actually just spit into the bag, and I'm overwhelmed by feelings of guilt, disgust, and self-loathing. So I run for miles and miles, energy coming from a fuel I've never actually taken in. I know there's nothing within me, but I have to burn the imaginary calories. I berate myself for being so weak.
I'm not sure it's the ritual itself that's bad. I think of it the same way I think about biting my nails or tapping my foot. It's there, but it isn't really hurting me. The problem is that I now have the desire to spit out everything that goes into my mouth. I'm scared of swallowing the food, and it's beginning to take a conscious effort.