Halloween Horrors

As I reach for another one of those sweet, Peanut-buttery candies coated in a rich, yet-smooth chocolate on the outside, I say "just one more." I am not so ignorant to believe I need it, for I know better than that. I do not even want it, what I feel is desire. A passion, unfulfilled as soon as the mind is reminded of the pleasure one chocolate candy can bring. I know how these things taste. I know their game. I know they are not going to go anywhere, yet I fear their leaving me. I fear the bag running out and I not having my fill. I believe that with just one more of these smooth, delicacies, I can finally reach a total euphoria and walk away without any sacrifice.

The wrappers glow in the dark now. So much for out of sight, out of mind. 

"Just one more." My rational mind already has the hand moving toward the bowl. I will allow the candy and put off the guilt because utter satisfaction might be reached this time.

As I grab the ridged, shiny paper, ensuring not to squeeze the candy, memories of past instances and nostalgia shine brightly in my mind. I can feel the dopamine surge. I can understand everything a drug addict goes through, feels, thinks, all of it put on a back-burner, knowingly simmering as I cook the main dish. "Just one More."

Unwrapping the candy, starting at the top, there is a mangled little flap that lays atop the rest, a starting point to opening the candy. I found the little piece and squeeze my over-sized fingers together to grasp the paper enough to not let go, but again, being aware of a potential smash on a room-temperature chocolate. When I pull back the little flap, the top opens favoring the piece I am holding on to. I have exposed the top of the candy and the black inside liner, an image that satisfies for the split second it takes to make another move. As the top is open and my pulled piece up higher than the rest, I move my finger to the other side, where the paper is slightly elevated from the candy, just enough to catch my attention. Once I pull this flap up, the entire top is exposed. I move my hand to the other side, the piece to the right of the last one, a piece elevated slightly before touch, the one to be pulled down to the side.

Just one?

My thumb, pointer and middle finger all hold the cup with the now-exposed side showing black paper. I next proceed to treat the cup like a banana, twirling inside my three main fingers and unwrapping as I go. Eventually I take the wrapper off and the candy is now almost completely naked. The chocolate is exposed, the imperfections of a side or top that melted to the wrapper apparent as well. I treat the black part of the wrapping much like the end part of the last wrapper. I spin the candy in my finger, unwrapping as I go. This time I see the chocolate, the exposed peanut butter to flawed parts, and have no more paper to hold on to. I grab from the top, underneath the candy, inside the wrapper, and pull the candy out.

As I am now holding the bare chocolate, with its flawed edges, preparing almost automatically to place it in my mouth, directly on the tongue, I am relieved that one more barrier is removed from my "just one more."

The three fingers holding the candy are all back in motion, placing the piece inside the mouth, on the tongue, only to smash against the roof, shift to the right side, and then begin chewing. Subconsciously, I smear the combination of chocolate and peanut butter all over the tongue, roof of mouth, and even as I prepare a swallow of the now, melted mixture, I consider another one, almost instantaneously. No longer was "just one more" enough, but a reminder of what "just one more" will do for me, again.

I swallow, and again, and allow the lingering on the base of the tongue to clear, only to once again feel the void. The emptiness that was there before. The emptiness isn't new, I am simply being reminded of it. I am no longer able to hide my feelings under a sheet of chocolate and peanut butter, but must expose them to the light. I know, in my logical mind that another would produce the same effect. I know my hollowness would be exposed sometime and with more attempts to cover would include a stomach ache and more regret than if I take control now.

Halloween got me like...

I have not yet lost control, for that happens when I try to eat a wrapper or try to get 2-3 in my mouth at a time, or when I start to argue the purpose of the papers on each one. No, I am not there. I am not well either. I have a problem and this is the turning point where I have the choice to practice balance and control, or remind myself of the putrid child who could not say no. The overweight loser who would eat until sick and then feel bad for himself because of it. No, this is not who I am anymore, and to be honest, as good as the candy was, these thoughts afterwords, the worsening of symptoms, the regret that always comes up, isn't even worth it.

Somehow though, logic, the dominating factor of right and wrong, is in a battle with indulgence, emotions that want to be snubbed, dopamine and opiate receptors that want to be stimulated. It is like imagining God, the utmost high, and his fallen angel, whom he made and some refer to as "the devil," in a battle with somehow equal chance of winning. It is a ridiculous thought to consider, yet one of right and wrong, good and bad, or rationale versus pleasure that exists in these fine moments. Unfortunately, the colors, sights, sounds, desire for nostalgia that is not quite complete without sweets to fulfill all make for an environment to support indulgence. The Heisenberg of our story, the anti-hero, is actually being chosen to win. Much like the world justifies a criminal because his initial cause was just, this "time of year," continues to support the wrongdoing of overeating. My rationale's argument reminds me that the environment is there for the indulgence, the party, yet when it is all over, that last bite is swallowed, then the environment is no longer effective at making me feel better. The decorations, lights, feelings, all shallow now, all ringing empty for the satisfaction I had at the mere potential before. Now, I tasted, I indulged, I overdid it. All reinforcing my previously combat beliefs and a rational mind that said it was best to stay away and enjoy the simpler things.

I have always known better, it just took time to see deeper inside, than focus on the immediate pleasures. I want to be a man of quality and take the time to see the good in people. This candy, this time of year, none of this is "bad." For me however, the way my mind works, I have to stay conscious as to what works best at satisfaction, contentment. Large ups and downs are not effective and yet here I stand thinking about another one.