For some reason, Tuesdays seem to be my lowest weight day of the week. I'm not sure why. Eating at work is routine for me, everything is planned out and sitting in the fridge or in a can in my drawer. I'm a creature of habit. Oatmeal for breakfast, grapefruit for snack, a protein dense lunch, usually a fruit snack before I head home. 5 days a week. I'm good with that thought. I get variety at night and on weekends. And work is the most mine laden place for me to be. I'm in a cubicle by myself. There are several delis and convenience stores in walking distance, an it's typically been the scene of my binging. (is that spelled right??)
In the last 2 months, I've done pretty well at avoiding the binging by sticking to my routine. I have fallen back into it a little for my afternoon snack in that instead of fruit, I will go buy a bag of veggie chips to munch on. But it's not a good idea for
Me. It too closely resembles bad habits. And my brain just "goes there".
Remember how you love this?
Remember how good it feels to just crunch and crunch and crunch?
Remember that salty taste on your lips?
That's so gooooood....
But those thoughts, that munching habit, that mindless eating is what GOT me where I am now.
Mindless. Key word. As children, our bodies regulated what we ate, more or less. As we grew, or as I grew, something changed. Food ceased being nutrition. It became reward: if you behave, we will get ice cream! It became comfort: Your poor knee, have a cookie! We learned that food = emotions And as I reached my teen years, it became an addiction.
I'm not sure when it happened. Looking back, I can't pinpoint an event, an emotion, a catalyst for this change. I can remember the actions.
Stealing Twinkie from my grandma’s freezer. Using all my babysitting money to buy food - but never eating it in front of people, I hid it. In high school I started making frosting. Whole bowls. Powdered sugar, milk, butter, vanilla, and mix until creamy. Never even bothering to measure anything, taking the bowl with me to my room and consuming it. Hiding the bowl. Thinking nobody knew.
The actions I remember. It's the elusive WHY that bothers me.
I've watched shows on TV about addiction and the actions are the same. The drug of choice is different. The method of ingestion is different. But I find myself dancing along the familiar feelings. The frantic gotta have it. The relief when it's in your hands - just getting it is part of the process. That feeling of anticipation...probably THE strongest feeling of the process. Then the eating. That seems minor in comparison to what led up to it. Like the emphasis is more on the chase and capture than the substance.
When I was eating, it was like an off switch for my brain. I threw every molecule into eating. There is no stress, no pressure, not joy, love, or hate. I am devoid of emotion. The lights in my brain are off, the voices are silent, Elvis has left the building.
Until the food is gone.
And all the noise is back. And it has brought friends with megaphones.
Even as I'm writing this, I'm reliving the process. And the thought of the post eating feelings makes my chest tighten up and my eyes water. It's SO overwhelming. Like I imagine drowning in the ocean would feel. Dark yet loud. There's the physical pain of overeating. And the Guilt. The Self Loathing. Failure again.
I look at other addicts and I separate myself from my own addiction and I ask "why??". Why would you DO that? Can't you see what it's doing to your body, your family, your life???! I practically scream it at them. I don't know how they can't see the effect it has. I don't understand how they can't see worthy they are!! I practically yell at the screen to just put the needle/pipe/bottle down. It seems so easy - just walk away!!
And it starts to dawn on me. That IS me. And if people could see my addiction as easily, they would try and take the fork out of my hand. Gently and with love. Love I don't have for myself.
God, this is hard.
I need help. More accurately, I need to use all the help tht is available to me. I've been putting of starting my 12 steps. I've told my husband about this blog and some of my struggles but I hide a lot. Or maybe I don't. I put up a good front. Not just to the people around me, but to myself.
It's time to get honest. It's time to pull up my big girl panties and get to work.
Tonight I WILL start with step one.
TTFN,
LauraLynne