I have been a member of a self-help program for compulsive eaters/sugar addicts for more than 6 years. I have achieved weight goals, been an active and useful member and have actively helped others in the program who wanted my support. For the last year, I have been working with a nutritionist and therapist – for different reasons – but the paths have intersected. The experiment I speak of further along in this post was a practice in intuitive eating, which is what my nutritionist/dietician advocates. It feels like deeper work than I’ve been able to do around food and my relationship with it before now. I’ve relied on God and my spiritual work throughout. It hasn’t felt wrong or dishonest – but it has been very, very hard.
I have spent the last 5 months in constant motion, preparing to move, moving, unpacking and putting on the finishing touches before our home/wedding celebration the third week of July (last week). Then we left town for a week. (idiot)
While we were away, I ate whatever I wanted. All the time wondering how in the hell does this end without a PLAN, DIET or PROGRAM.
“This tastes good;
This tastes better;
I’m too full;
I’m too fat; I relapsed; There’s no such thing;
The program worked – but that’s not healing;
I fucked up;
I abandoned myself;
They don’t know what it means to be an addict;
I trust them;
I understood this once;
I’m hopeless;
I’m changing;
This is a transition, not the end of healthy;
I hate my body,
I hate my childhood;
I hate what I can’t control.”
Then we came home.
It was a glorious celebration of friendship, family and romance! When I saw the video of us cutting (and eating) cake I was amazed at how normal I looked. Not thin – but certainly not obese. Just like a normal 56 year old woman (actually, better than 56, if I do say so myself). Enjoyed every minute of our party – and tried to spend some time with most of the guests.
Then quiet and coming to terms with what comes next in this experiment.
I laid in bed last night and this morning, obsessing about how I could turn this around…thinking about being a compulsive eater. This morning at 6:10 am I realized, I’m not a compulsive eater anymore. I wasn’t eating for comfort or out of pain or to make right something that was wrong. I was eating what I wanted to eat when I wanted to eat it. That is different. That is very, very different. I wasn’t hiding food and binging in the dark; waiting for others to leave so I could have ______. It was hard for me to eat what I wanted in front of others. We cut the cake when a member of the self-help group was in the crowd – and it was hard for me to just be me. I’m not revolting against program – I am learning and growing. Now, of course, I have to figure out the intuitive eating thing – but at least I am here; imperfectly, but finally, here.
Deep Breath – and…Begin
