It's nothing about the food choices. It's love and acceptance. Whatever you eat is ok. It doesn't need to have any impact on your self-worth.
It's releasing the struggle. The constant painful daily struggle is what's hurting you, not sandwiches and cereal, but the idea that you shouldn't have them, don't deserve them, are a failure because you eat them, need to get rid of them, etc.
What if they were ok? What if anything in any amount you choose to eat is ok? Salad, chocolate, cookies, collard greens...all good, and nothing to do with your mood, self-esteem, or lovability. That's kind of where I had to end up in order to actually be happy and not just complying with or rebelling against restrictions.
If I were stuck inside alone on a dreary gray day and wanted to eat comfort food in front of the television, I would do it (and I generally DO do it). If I don't see it as a problem, there's no problem. There's no reason to hate myself, or binge, or purge, or regret, or vow to do better. I just fix my plate and plant myself on the couch, eat what I want, take a nap, get online, whatever...the day continues right along. There's no huge moral dilemma. There's not even a physical dilemma. I'm a fit person. A peanut butter sandwich or four doesn't make me unfit or unworthy. There's nothing I need to *do* about it. I know that at other times I'll eat lighter or less because I like that too.
It's the fight that causes the pain, the idea that you shouldn't do...whatever, or that you're a failure or a bad person because of it. And they're all fairly mundane choices - to eat when you're home alone and bored, to feel full, to have a sandwich instead of a salad. It's perfectly ok to do any of those and not judge yourself for it. Most of us do all of them. A lot. So, why hold yourself to such strict and painful standards?