I’ve done hard things in my life. Getting sober was one of them. I had to hit AA meetings every day. It required diving into the 12 steps. I had to face the absolute cesspool of emotions I had drowned in alcohol for years. It was the hardest, most transformative thing I’ve ever done. And yet…I keep eating sleeves of Mega-Stuff Oreos at midnight. It’s like I’m training to go head-to-head with Joey Chestnut.
I’m not kidding. I’ve woken up with the same crushing remorse after an eating binge. It’s exactly how I felt after a night of blackout drinking. I end up staring at an empty bag of maple kettle corn like it’s a crime scene, thinking: What’s wrong with me? Why did I do this? I swore I wouldn’t do this again. The parallels are pretty disturbing. In fact, if you swapped out “Oreos” for “vodka,” you’d think I was describing my drinking days.
And I’ve tried everything. Intermittent fasting? I’m good for a couple of months, and then I suddenly raid the pantry like I’ve been lost at sea for a year. Atkins? Yeah, except when I let my guard down. I wind up eating a week’s worth of gnocchi in one sitting. Small meals throughout the day? Totally, except that thirty small meals in one day is not exactly the point.
It’s frustrating, to say the least. I have pretty rock-solid sobriety. I’ve done the work and continue to do so. I’m no stranger to powerlessness or the insanity of addiction. I can sit in a room full of people drinking and not even blink but put me near a bag of pretzel M&Ms, and I’m fucked. The same thoughts creep in: Why can’t you stop? You’re better than this. Tomorrow, we’ll start fresh. And yet, there I am the next night, licking the Cheetos cheese dust off my fingers like a goblin.
The thing is, I know the problem. I know I’m powerless over food. I see the cycle of insanity clear as day. But why can’t I change it? Is this where I break out the Big Book and start working the steps again? Do I need to find a separate sponsor for my late-night peanut butter fix? Do I have to walk into Overeaters Anonymous and admit that I’m a kettle corn junkie?
The more I think about it, the more I wonder if this isn’t about the food at all. When I stopped drinking, I thought I was just temporarily replacing alcohol with food. But now, 15 years later, I’m realizing there are still some cracks in the foundation, and maybe I’m filling them with Animal Crackers. Immediate gratification is a really tough thing to fight. It’s that same old dance of trying to numb feelings I don’t want to feel, only this time it’s with food instead of alcohol.
So, what’s the answer? I honestly don’t know. Maybe it is OA. Maybe it’s just about getting honest with myself and finding a new way to deal with the holes that still linger. Maybe it’s realizing that this isn’t about perfection—it’s about progress. Just like with sobriety, it’s not about never messing up; it’s about picking yourself up when you do and moving forward.
In the meantime, I guess I’ll keep asking myself the hard questions. Like, why did they have to make Mega Stuf Oreos? And why do they sell kettle corn in bags the size of a pillow?
But seriously, if you’ve been here—if you can identify—let’s talk. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned in recovery, it’s that you don’t have to face the demons alone. Even when the demons look like a trail of cookie crumbs leading straight to a crime scene.
SOBER NOT SUBTLE: Sobriety without the Sugarcoat is a new blog by Contributor Jason Mayo.
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