Oftentimes, when I eat chocolates, I feel subconsciously that I must be depressed. I love to eat chocolates. Makes me feel better.
When I’m on a binge, I can eat all the chocolates in the world in one sitting.
No need to see a shrink. It’s not even common here to see a psychiatrist when you’re having the fits.
But how do I know if I’m depressed?
I guess the gauge is on my eating habits.
Even if I’m not hungry, I still have this insatiable appetite to eat. Must be gluttony?
The day I committed to fast, I suddenly had the urge to eat chocolates.
Or was it the devil’s way to ruin my planned fasting?
But maybe, I am just depressed. Maybe.
And so I resort to eating chocolates hoping it will lift me up. Life is a box of chocolates, they say. Gotta move on from here.
Next up, I will do the stationary bike for an hour to burn the calories.
And then ultimately, I have to lift up my depression to God.
He is the answer to your problems. Not the chocolates. And it’s not maybe. =)
1 Peter 5:7