They had become like me. Eating to satisfy an emotional need. I wasn't depressed
; just stressed
. No time, no energy. Always angry. Always on edge. Food took the edge off… But only temporarily.
Then I took the photo. Looking at it, I realised that I needed to be a better father. I was acting and dressing tough to cover my insecurities. Me, the big patriarch was at the complete mercy of food.
I would take a bullet for any of my kids, no question. But I couldn’t put down a chocolate bar for them.
I had become food's bitch. But I denied it vehemently. "I am a man,” I’d argue with myself. “I can't be an emotional eater! Men don't do that! If anything I eat more junk when I'm happy."