That'll do pig, that'll do.

It's three days since Christmas, and I'm calling time on my gorging. I've been eating non-stop since Christmas Eve - every waking minute has revolved around food; what I'm eating, when it will be socially acceptable to eat again, and what I'll eat when that time finally comes.

I really let myself go over the holidays. Yeah, I know, everybody does - but trust me, I'm worse than you.

I'm like a ravenous beast unleashed.

Throughout the year, I survive on water, fruit, vegetables and healthy crap, but Christmas time comes around and it's no holds barred. Whatever I can get my hands on man, I will eat it. I will eat it all day long.

Cheesecake for breakfast. Cookies for second breakfast. Cake for morning tea. Potato chips for brunch. Three kinds of meat for lunch. Cheesecake chaser. Chocolates for afternoon tea. Champagne for dinner. Ham for dessert.

If there are leftovers to be had, they won't be leftover for long.

And to make matters worse - it's never just a nibble. I eat until I look like an over-stuffed sausage. Wait, did somebody say sausage? Where's the sausage?

So I eat a tonne of junk at Christmas time, but I've gotta admit, even when I'm eating healthy food the rest of the time, I still eat waaay more than I need to.

Urgh. Line in the sand.

This Christmas, I literally made myself sick with the sheer amount of food I consumed. I blame Nana and her cakes entirely. I went too far as usual, but this time, the 'eyes bigger than stomach' thing is finito. It's got to stop.

This change in heart (or appetite) may or may not have been brought on by a well-timed article I read in the paper yesterday about a new drug in development that mimics the effect of self-restraint. The restraint of which I am completely devoid part way through a meal. Or a cake. Or a bag of chips.

While I can't say that my slight overeating issue justifies medication, the supporting evidence mentioned in the article provided a nice little kick up the ass of my appetite.

"Experiments have shown that curbing the amount of food rats eat can extend their lives by 25 to 40 percent," was one tasty little factual nugget.

And as we all know the Japanese have got the healthy eating = long life connection down, but apparently, calorie control is actually a cultural habit, where they will only eat until they are 80 percent full. It's got a name and everything: 'hara hachi bu'. You can whip that one out if your mum ever hits you up about not cleaning your dinner plate.

My usual food consumption would rate at about 110% of my capacity (completely unscientific guesstimation), and to be fair, it can get a little uncomfortable. It's unnecessary. And if we look at the big picture according to the newspaper, well, it's just plain unhealthy.

Sold. I'm so all over this. Dinner tonight; I ate slowly, stayed aware of how full I felt, and stopped before I finished my plate. The dog was stoked.

And I felt better. Not like I usually do, all over-full.

This could be good.

So, I'm just going to nip off and get a cookie, because, obviously, baby steps, but tomorrow, I'll be all "don't get in my belly actually, you can just go ahead and stay in the fridge there you minxy little slice of cheesecake".

I suspect this could do wonders for my abdominal situation (otherwise known as 'The Situation' among my friends (well, nobody else calls it that - I call it that though)) also. I'll keep you posted.