Am I Allowed to Be Sad?

 I am writing these blog entries to work through things that I feel I might have buried for years.  I think these incremental burials played havoc on my body and rather than acknowledging that what I was feeling was a sort of stress, I was taken to doctors.  My migraine headaches started when I my period did.  My back trouble didn't bother me until much later. I developed Irritable Bowel Syndrome when I was in high school.  My poor eating habits took root in my body after my parents married.  My memory is very clear on three things:  my dad (Bud) had 3 large boxes of fortune cookies that he had for work.  All the fortunes were the same: "Schlage will bring you good lock." They were kept in the pantry --- perhaps my first foray in "closet eating".  I also remember coming home and making buttery pasta.  I don't recall there being any healthy snacks in the house that interested me.  I am thinking maybe some gross granola bars, like nature valley.  I do remember enjoying Yoplait yogurt but it was the pasta that I craved.  Also, I would save up my money and ride my bicycle to Mr. M food store.  It was a convenience store in our neighborhood in The Meadows.  I would grab my babysitting money and head that way and buy candy, all that I could.  I would eat quite a bit before getting home and hide the rest.  All three were absolutely awful choices for what to eat but I was living in a home with 2 parents working, not paying an incredible amount of attention to me, and not being given a whole lot of options.  Mom at this point was addicted to Coca-Cola; it was her morning coffee.  I come to realize much later into my adult life, that I rarely feel satisfied when I eat.  With brothers and later sons, I thought it was my job to keep up.  At one point in time a friend of mine gave me a sidelong glance and a comment that still stays with me.  She had noted that I had a hard time stopping eating something that I thought tasted good.  It was years later that I realized food (especially sugar) was to me what moving was to Mom.  I was trying to fill a vacuous hole and honestly, it is still a problem.  The primary difference is now is that I am aware.  My sugar addiction over all these years has lead to inflammation and issues from that----migraines, back pain, urinary tract infections, etc.  This is why I am doing the work.  But am I allowed to be sad and angry?  I, truthfully, don't want to do this work if the only thing I get out of it is anger or sadness.  

Interestingly, since starting this writing journey a few days ago, I have been sad. It is a very strong and sudden pull.  I will be okay, like a mellow 3 and dip down to a 1 in a matter of seconds.  It is really strange how quickly it will come.  So I think about the things I am writing and what is making me sad and acknowledge it.  I think I am allowed to be sad, I just don't want it to overtake me.  I think this is telling me I need to keep writing to write my way through my feelings.  

I had remembered back in the early 2000s I was struggling with depression and my Mom told me that I should go to a counselor.  I remember telling her, "Are you sure you want me to do that?  Because if I do, this is all your fault."  She didn't say anything in return.  So for now, at least, I am okay with being sad.