The Things We Feed

By Scott’s Brewed Thoughts

We all have something.

Something that pulls at us a little harder than it should. Something that says, “One more won’t hurt.” Something that starts as comfort and slowly becomes control.

For me?
It’s food.

And listen… when I go all in, I GO ALL IN.

I’m not the guy eating three wings and calling it a night. No, no. I’m the guy sitting there looking like I’m training for the National Buffalo Sauce Olympics. Pizza? I don’t stop at “a couple slices.” I start calculating how many pieces are left versus how much shame I can emotionally handle tomorrow morning.

And heaven forbid someone says, “You can take the leftovers home.”
Friend… there will be no leftovers.

But lately I’ve had to ask myself something difficult:

Am I doing more damage than I realize?

Because addiction has this sneaky way of convincing us that it only affects us. We think:
“It’s my body.”
“It’s my stress.”
“It’s my coping mechanism.”

But over time, things start adding up.

For me, it added up to over 100 extra pounds.
More strain on my lungs.
Getting winded easier.
Seeing my wife quietly worry about my breathing more than I even noticed myself.

And that part hits different.

Because the people who love us often carry the weight of our addictions long before we admit we have one.

Now before anyone starts clutching their kale salads thinking I’m only talking about food—this goes way beyond pizza and wings.

We all battle something.

Smoking.
Drinking.
Drugs.
Shopping.
Gambling.
Working too much.
Escaping reality online.
Even things society laughs off or normalizes.

And yes, even marijuana. I know it has become so accepted that many people don’t even think of it as a drug anymore. But here’s the thing: if anything starts controlling your peace, your finances, your health, or your relationships… it deserves a closer look.

Because addiction isn’t always about what the thing is.
It’s about what the thing is doing to your life.

Even hobbies can become unhealthy.

If you love working on cars, awesome. Build that dream machine. But if you’ve got $14 in your bank account and a garage full of chrome parts while your electric bill is doing the electric slide toward shutoff… we may need to pump the brakes a little.

Moderation matters.

That’s the line where passion ends and destruction begins.

And honestly, I’m writing this as much for myself as anyone else.

I’ve got a wedding coming up within the next year, and your boy needs to lose what basically amounts to a small human or an emotionally supportive monkey off my back. I’ve reached that age where pictures don’t just surprise me anymore—they attack me.

You ever see a photo somebody tagged you in and think:
“Who is THAT exhausted walrus holding a taco?”

Then you zoom in hoping it’s a weird camera angle.
It’s not.

And while I can joke about it—and I do because humor helps me cope—the truth underneath it is emotional.

Sometimes we eat because we’re stressed.
Sometimes because we’re lonely.
Sometimes because food became the reward after surviving hard days.

And other addictions work the same way.

A lot of families get torn apart because people are hurting and don’t know how to heal properly. Sometimes the people struggling don’t even know how they got there.

That’s why compassion matters.

If you know someone battling addiction, don’t just judge them from a distance. Encourage them. Pray for them. Help them find support if they’re willing. And when things feel bigger than what we can handle ourselves, sometimes the best thing we can do is look to our Father above for guidance, strength, and peace.

Because some battles require more than willpower.

And maybe that’s the biggest point in all of this:

We truly have no idea what people around us are carrying.

The coworker snapping at people may be drowning internally.
The friend constantly joking may actually be hurting deeply.
The person struggling with addiction may already hate themselves more than anyone else ever could.

So be kind.

Be patient.

Show love when the world gives people reasons to hide.

And if you’re fighting your own battles right now—whether it’s food, alcohol, stress, fear, or something nobody else sees—I hope you know this:

You’re not alone in it.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m over here trying to learn what a “reasonable portion size” is without filing a formal complaint against salad.

Pray for me.