​I have an eating problem.  No, I'm not anorexic or bulimic, but I really enjoy food.  They say you're supposed to eat to live.  Well, I live to eat.  
Years ago, I spent my winter break in Florida with my mom's side of the family.  They are Jewish, but it was Christmas, so we ate Christmas dinner.  The roasted turkey breast, sweet potatoes, cabbage and baked ziti were delicious and I throughly indulged as is my forte.  I had placed the comfortably full feeling plates ago.  On a scale form 1-10, I was nearing a 9.5.  I felt sick, but it was simply too good to stop.  I remember reaching for another small slice of turkey, figuring it couldn't fill me up that much more (it was so small).  From across the table, my nana yelled, "Step away from the food, Taylor."  She was right, and I did. 
I've now realized that the only way to decline another bite of anything note worthy is to verbally tell myself to stop.  At the dinner table: "You're full; I promise".  At the buffet, "Do you really need another biscuit?"  In the kitchen, after everyone else has gone to sleep, "What the hell, Taylor? Stop!" 

It's beginning to work.