Still looking at the big "Why"

A few days ago I was talking about why I overeat, why I let myself get so big, why food has this hold on me.  I have been thinking a lot about it.  I can't really blame it on genetics.  My parents weren't fat, my brothers are all normal weight.  We don't really know much of anything about my father's side of the family.  He was an abused child and he ran away from his home in Pennsylvania when he was just 12 years old and never went back and as far as I know never had any kind of contact with his father again.  His mom had died giving birth to him.  My father was an alcoholic since the day I was born. His drinking made for instability, fear, and sorrow. As changeable as he could be and as much as he was hurting us all by drinking himself into oblivion, I loved him so very much. When I was thirteen years old, he died of alcohol related problems, cirrhosis of the liver and other complications.  He was only 47 years old! I tell you all of this because I think it is why I used food as love for most of my life. I loved food and food loved me. Amid all the chaos and insecurity, I could control the food I ate. When I felt nervous, food was reassuring. When I was anxious food was soothing. When I was sad, food lifted me up. When no one was home, food was my babysitter. For every emotion I could turn to food.  I am just realizing this and remembering some things surrounding food when I was a kid.  I didn't have a weight problem til maybe 10 or so years after my dad died but the food issues started then.  I will continue to explore this.

Short one today, folks :)