Psychologists never cease to amaze me with their new creative diagnosis. They can come up with some good titles and labels for just about everything. For example, for a child that can’t seem to sit down or focus long enough to do anything. “They” might call it ADHD. What did “big momma” call it? You need your behind whipped. Or, a guy might think that she loves him one day, but the next day, he’s the devil. What might “they” call it? Bipolar. What do some of us call it? Mad & bitter woman syndrome.

Now granted, some of this medical research has some validity to it….somehow or another. But when I really think long and hard about it, medical consultations and copayments can be smoke and mirrors trying to conceal excuses and false labels. One label I’ve come to dislike is “emotional eating.”

Many of you that know me, know that I try to do a pretty good job of staying fit and keeping my sanity along the way. But there are days (many of them), like today, that I just want to eat all kinds of cake, candy, ice cream, and cookies with no strategic plan on how big the portions are or how many calories I’m consuming.

Do you have those days when you just don’t give a hoot and all you want to do is eat? Yup, me too and “they” call it emotional eating. I only lose my mind like that when I’m feeling down and out. People look at me like I have a third eye when I say that to them. Because for some strange reason, my life is suppose to be nearly perfect in the eyes of others. But let me honestly tell you that my life is far from perfect, and I struggle daily with health goals and objectives just like you. I also like to eat crap when those goals and objectives don’t seem to want to align themselves according to the world of Dana Simone.

Fortunately, something told me tonight that I am not an emotional eater and that I didn’t have the right to embrace that medical label for my on again, off again eating habits. I was faced with my sub conscience that blatantly told me that the term emotional eating, in my case, is merely an excuse to spontaneously plan a pity party and only invite guests like chocolate cake, superman ice cream, and Reese Cups.

Seriously?! Is that what it’s come down to? A pity party. Jeez! Let’s explore this a little and maybe even help each other out. I figure if we can back into when & why, we can tap into the root cause and maybe eliminate this behavior altogether.

So, tell me. What are those moments that weaken you to make poor food choices? Don’t leave me hanging on this subject. Or I might be forced to grab some bon bons…