I'm on a diet.
Shopping has always been my drug of choice. When I was bored, I'd shop. When I was sad, I'd shop. When I was happy, I'd shop. If I wanted to feel good, I'd shop. I'd shop for clothes, nick knacks, pretty much anything that caught my fancy. In a lot of ways, shopping for me is what food is to an emotional eater. It was my favorite fallback activity, my favorite escape.
Now I have to shop a lot less, and it isn't easy. I still want to binge. I want to binge on end-of-summer sales, local boutiques, and fancy restaurants. I would have wasted my entire conference per diem by now and not thought anything of it, even though the conference hasn't even started yet. And I definitely wouldn't be crashing on my brother's hard leather couch while here in Anaheim. I would have been enjoying a hotel room right now instead of sitting in his bachelor-pad studio apartment that smells faintly of cigarette smoke and beer, with posters of bikini-clad women on the walls.
But sometimes, we have to make these sacrifices. Sometimes, losing is winning. Everyday, I am less and less interested in new fall fashions or jewelry or purses, what have you. I already have what I need for now. I don't need to patch up my boo-boos with new shoes or a new shade of lipstick because they won't make me happier. I don't need to celebrate my 10-miler with a brand new running skirt because it won't make me any faster than I am when I wear the old ones.
It's hard sometimes, yes. But I don't need to consume anymore because I'm full.