Fed to Death

I’m a confessed screen junkie. A writer welded to glowing pixels. And yet — here I am, trying to fast.

I skip breakfast. I skip lunch. Most days, I don’t eat until the sun’s going down. And still, I fail. Not a total collapse, but enough to see where my willpower leaks.

Because the truth is, the battle isn’t with food. It’s with boredom. It’s with that twitchy part of me that wants something — anything — when the words don’t come, when the silence gets heavy, when I feel “just a little” thirsty. That’s when I wander. Off the page. Out the door. Down fluorescent aisles I promised myself I’d avoid.

And there it is. The trap. Cheap food. Easy food. Engineered food. All of it whispering: “You’ve done enough. You deserve this. Just a little won’t hurt.”

In Fed to Death, I wrote that comfort — this soft, sugary, always-within-reach comfort — is killing us. Not just our bodies, but our minds, our focus, our sacred edge. Civilizations crumble when they stop resisting the urge to overfeed — and here I am, standing under grocery-store lights, proving my own point. 

This isn’t just a confession about eating when I said I wouldn’t. It’s evidence. Evidence of how deep the hooks go. Of how modern life trains us to chase relief instead of purpose. Of how easy it is to lose the plot.

So here’s what I’m sitting with:

The razor-thin line between need and craving — and how quickly I cross it without noticing.
The idea that fasting isn’t just about food. It’s about refusing to let consumption run my life.
The shame, the boredom, the gnawing emptiness — and what they might actually be trying to say if I’d stop stuffing them down.
This is where I’m at: hungry, distracted, human. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe the confession itself is the doorway — a crack in the armor that lets the harder truth in.

Stick around. I’m not done with this fight. And if you’re tangled up in the same mess, maybe we can try — together — to find a way out.

Check it out: (https://www.amazon.ca/Fed-Death-Comfort-Civilizations-Sacred-ebook/dp/B0FKQ8BW9K/ref=sr_1_46?crid=2QHTA5NJOCJG4&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.XJHssDL3I1LMVeSUH4ttYpFveVc5u6gorg4qguIp2RyHq8gxHO-UUUgFJB_lpV_MfY-hYVgZ3Flv4TxdcmiRlehywWs2W73wpuFCQrDhLDfau2yqhnol0FKGvYdhB0b5BunBJz_NawvrX1B1NyeHH7QOg-06Eyy3xq01QIbxCkhTYFy7dLidpEQWDARv9jPuBOH7yGaBWF-JgvKJcANKb9JmIcwLAO7UqE4nZe_bDdoL_JwZskfg1_QXmiPo6u8pKbbUcZZrsvXlStAm4fbWtMS6LixXV33oYUtSRkfOzxo.5oKCfz7ivEKY0S7eijnA1huqkHQeLQcODJv7qFJ12RI&dib_tag=se&keywords=laing+z.+matthews&qid=1758949732&sprefix=%2Caps%2C130&sr=8-46)