Weighty Matters

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No Can’t Do

Sometimes I think I’ll never lose weight again.

Sometimes I worry that I’ll regain all of my weight.

Then I give myself a mental head smack.  I tell myself to knock off the negative thinking.

Oy the things we say to ourselves.  The endless ways in which we strive to kick ourselves when we’re down.  You’d think that we’d do whatever we could to avoid inflicting additional pain when we already feel bad but,  instead, we pick up these things, wield them like clubs, and beat ourselves up with them some more.

Nasty bit of business, that cycle.

Negative thinking leads to negative action or reaction, like eating inappropriately or languishing in bed until it’s too late to take a longer walk before work.  The good news is that positive thinking supports positive action.  Positive action bolsters positive thinking.  That’s the cycle that I need.  It’s the one that keeps me on the healthy road.

Today I slept in a little but, since it was Sunday morning, it didn’t matter how long I stayed in bed.  I still had time to take the dogs for a longer walk.  That’s how we started the day.  I felt much better mentally for having met an exercise need.  It’s a building block and I need more of that, consistently.

The truth is that there is no “Can’t do” in my life.   When my disease says I can’t, I need to counter.  It’s a never ending lesson and I absolutely need constant reminders.

Eat well.  Exercise.  Take care of my spirit.  Eat well.  Exercise.  Take care of my spirit.  Eat well.  Exercise.  Take care of my spirit.

Can do.

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Ten Day Break? Wow.

I’m stunned that it’s been ten days since I wrote a post.  Time flies when one is incredibly busy at work, has numerous after-work commitments, and generally gets home too tired to think straight, yet alone coherently write.

Mea culpa.  My apologies!

In addition to the reasons listed above, I’ll also cop to a subconscious need to avoid admitting some things.  I believe so strongly in keeping it real on this blog that when something came up that I wasn’t ready to talk about, I stayed away.  I also hate feeling like I’m whining about the same old same old.  I haven’t been feeling good about my progress.  A lot of diseased thinking has taken hold of my brain.  So, it all added up to me not feeling good about me.  However, I didn’t want to come on and say that, partly because of that “no whining” preference and partly from denial.

My behavior feels like the internet blog equivalent of avoiding class reunions or other gatherings because I didn’t want old friends to see me looking like a cow.

Pffffffffffffffft.  (The typed equivalent of blowing a raspberry at myself.)  Honestly, that’s junk thinking on all counts.  I work on my issues here.  I process crap through writing.  So, not blogging here means I wasn’t dealing.  Not dealing means not being honest with myself.

Still and all, I might have been away for 10 days, but I certainly have been thinking about my disease and food issues.  A lot.  Some might say I’m thinking too much about them and doing too little.  I don’t disagree.  I’ve felt like I’m not in control of my food choices.  I hate it when I feel like I can’t control my eating.  I hate it even more when I know that stressful situations are triggering the eating.  It’s my coping mechanism.  Harmful as compulsive eating is to me, it’s still a tool that I use to cope when my emotions are rocketing around.

This old behavior makes me think that I haven’t learned a damn thing in almost three years since my weight loss surgery.  Then I start feeling like a failure, which is total, steaming  bull crap.

That’s the problem with stinking thinking.  We start to believe, or act as if we believe, the crappy things we say to and about ourselves.  I know perfectly well that I’m not a failure and I’ve learned a helluva lot about my disease, my issues, etc.  Like Hope and others said, even if I never lose another pound, I’ve still succeeded.  That might be is true, but it takes a while to absorb that into my psyche and truly believe.

The last few days have been better.  Less stress, less compulsive eating.  Not always eating as healthy as usual, but I’m improving.  I got physically lazy too, particularly with the time change.  The last few days I’ve pushed myself to walk even when the weather is less than conducive for the activity.

While my control might be shaky, I don’t feel helpless, or hopeless.  This is a bump in the recovery road.  The highway to health didn’t suffer a washout.  I’m not lost.  Today was better.  God willing, tomorrow will be a good, new beginning too.

 

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In the Middle Seat

I almost titled this post “To Boldly Go Where I’ve Never Gone Before”.  Well, at least where I haven’t gone very often and not in a long, long, lonnnnggggg time.

Last Thursday, I left on a business trip to California for a conference.  On the way home, for some reason the travel agent had not been able to select a seat for me even though I was confirmed on the flight.  I tried several times to select a seat before the day of the flight and each time the system refused.

This caused no small amount of anxiety all because I stressed on the great what if.  What if the only seats available weren’t aisle or window seats?  What if, (insert choked, fretful, gasp) the only seat available was In. The. Middle??  (Cue the doomsday organ chords.)

I was the first person in line at the gate when the attendant arrived to assign seats.  It didn’t help the anxiety when she announced on the microphone that they “might” have an oversold situation and were looking for three volunteers willing to give up their seats for a free flight and other perks.  Actually, the thought of not getting on the flight at all suddenly struck me as ever so much more worrisome since I would then miss the connecting flight, subsequently miss the shuttle van home, and be stuck in Miami for Lord knows how long.

However, even though I was reassured when she confirmed me for a seat, I couldn’t stop the queasy dread when I saw that the situation I so feared had come true.

I was seated in the middle of a row.

All of the dread was a throwback to my days of Super Obesity when I could barely fit in any airline seat but could at least manage to just barely squeeze myself in between the arm rests and use a seat belt extender to buckle up.  Even one one end or the other, I made sure to lean as far as I could away from the person in the middle so that I wouldn’t crowd them more than absolutely necessary.  I always hated it when I’d see the expression on their faces when they realized that they were stuck sitting next to the really heavy woman.  Needless to say, I always avoided middle seats – for my own sake as well as any other travelers.

I’m truly surprised that no flight attendant ever flagged me and said that I’d have to buy a second seat to accommodate my bulk.

Anyway, even though I know I fit in normal seats, I couldn’t shake the sick feeling while I boarded the flight and slowly made my way to my appointed row.  I gingerly slid into the row and oh-so-carefully took my seat.

Without any problem.  I sat down in the seat and realized that not only did I fit, I had a little room to spare on either side.  The arm rests weren’t cutting into me, nor were they trying to automatically flip up, pushed there by any overly thick part of my body.

I fit.  Comfortably.  Comfortably for me and for the people seated on either side.  I was so relieved that I closed my eyes, sent up a quick gratitude prayer, and breathed out the air I’d sort of been holding along with my apprehension.  I relaxed and enjoyed a very pleasant conversation with my row companion to the right.  It felt good.  It felt, Lord help me, normal.

Another hurdle jumped.  Another NSV realized.  Booyah!

****************

As part of my long weekend away, I went on a Whale Watching trip in Southern California.  Here are a some of the photos because, no matter what the topic, there’s always a place for cute animal pictures.

Dolphin-2

 

Leaping Dolphins

Humpback Flukes 1

Northern Fur Seal

SL on Buoy-1

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I’m All About that Bass

I turned on the CMA Awards show tonight.  Miranda Lambert and Meghan Trainor teamed up on Trainor’s hit song All About That Bass.

I’ve sort of heard the song a few times.  I think some pros danced to a few bars of it on Dancing with the Stars one night.  It might have been playing in the background in a store or two when I was shopping.  Honestly, all I knew was the one line, “I’m all about that bass.  ‘Bout that bass.”

I didn’t even know the “no treble” part that comes right after.

Until tonight.  I listened to the song as the women performed and instantly fell in love with it because of the lyrics.  It’s all about self-acceptance and acknowledging your body and your beauty – regardless of the fact that you aren’t a size two.

Just check out these lines:

I know you think you’re fat 

But I’m here to tell ya

 Every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top 

Love it, love it, love it!  I think that this is currently my favorite song.  Any time I’m tempted to get down on myself or berate myself for “still” being fat — which is something I can easily do after a rough day — I’m going to sing this song to myself.

If you aren’t familiar with the song, here are all of the lyrics.  It’s a very catchy tune, too.  You can check it out on YouTube or iTunes.  I hope it’s a big hit with women of all ages because we sure can all use the positive reinforcement for our self-images.

“All About That Bass”

Because you know

I’m all about that bass
‘Bout that bass, no treble
I’m all about that bass
‘Bout that bass, no treble
I’m all about that bass
‘Bout that bass, no treble
I’m all about that bass
‘Bout that bass

Yeah, it’s pretty clear, I ain’t no size two
But I can shake it, shake it
Like I’m supposed to do
‘Cause I got that boom boom that all the boys chase
And all the right junk in all the right places

I see the magazine workin’ that Photoshop
We know that shit ain’t real
C’mon now, make it stop
If you got beauty, beauty, just raise ‘em up
‘Cause every inch of you is perfect
From the bottom to the top

Yeah, my mama she told me don’t worry about your size
She says, “Boys like a little more booty to hold at night.”
You know I won’t be no stick figure silicone Barbie doll
So if that’s what you’re into then go ahead and move along

Because you know I’m
All about that bass
‘Bout that bass, no treble
I’m all about that bass
‘Bout that bass, no treble
I’m all about that bass
‘Bout that bass, no treble
I’m all about that bass
‘Bout that bass
Hey!

I’m bringing booty back
Go ahead and tell them skinny bitches that
No I’m just playing. I know you think you’re fat
But I’m here to tell ya
Every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top

Yeah my mama she told me don’t worry about your size
She says, “Boys like a little more booty to hold at night.”
You know I won’t be no stick figure silicone Barbie doll
So if that’s what you’re into then go ahead and move along

Because you know I’m
All about that bass
‘Bout that bass, no treble
I’m all about that bass
‘Bout that bass, no treble
I’m all about that bass
‘Bout that bass, no treble
I’m all about that bass
‘Bout that bass

Because you know I’m
All about that bass
‘Bout that bass, no treble
I’m all about that bass
‘Bout that bass, no treble
I’m all about that bass
‘Bout that bass, no treble
I’m all about that bass
‘Bout that bass

Because you know I’m
All about that bass
‘Bout that bass, no treble
I’m all about that bass
‘Bout that bass, no treble
I’m all about that bass
‘Bout that bass, no treble
I’m all about that bass
‘Bout that bass
‘Bout that bass, ’bout that bass
Hey, hey, ooh
You know you like this bass

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How Do Some People Do It?

You know those people who say they can eat one cookie, break off one piece of a chocolate bar and leave the rest for the next day and the next?

How do they do it?

I’m feeling a little whiny tonight.  I’m not and never have been one of those people for whom a simple, small taste was enough.  I always want more.  Even though I can’t physically eat the way that I once did, my brain often wants to.  That’s the strength of compulsion.

I want it to be easier, hence tonight’s mood.  My inner-Mary is complaining like a young teen, screaming, “It’s not fair-er-er-er!”

You know what?  It isn’t fair, but it is what is.  All of the whining in the world doesn’t change the situation, nor does it lead to reality.

This is yet another example of the credo that acceptance is the answer to all problems.  Time for me to stop complaining, work on my acceptance, and move on.  One day at a time.  I don’t have to like the situation, but I do need to accept it and act accordingly.

That is all.

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Triggers

I don’t think only people with eating disorders have triggers that push us to eat or do some other behavior, even when we might not consciously want to do so.  Product manufacturers or sellers have banked on that, and endeavored to capitalize on it since advertising was first created.   However, I think people without addictions or other types of disorders are better able to withstand the triggers when they occur.  They might even spot them happening when with compulsive eaters, the foods already in our mouths, down the gullet and on its way to being digested before we stop to think.

There are lots of different types of triggers that start the chain effect of eating. Some are sensory.  You’re walking along in the mall and the aroma of chocolate chip cookies, warm from the oven, wafts to you from that storefront you’re approaching.  Ohhh, they smell scrumptious and your sensory recall brings back the crunch and flavor of them melting in your mouth with chocolate-y deliciousness.  Don’t you instantly crave one or, if you’re a binge eater, a dozen?

You walk by a co-worker eating lunch, see what they’re eating and it looks soooo much better than the meal you packed hours before when you left the house for work.

Hunger is another sensory trigger.  Naturally, there’s real hunger that occurs when you haven’t eaten for awhile.  Unfortunately, there’s also mental hunger when your head tells you that you’re starving even though your body really doesn’t need food at that moment.

I learned something about situation or association triggers when I went through a smoking cessation program many years ago.  (Actually, 28 years ago last Monday was when I quit smoking.  Booyah!)  The instructor warned us that we  had many situations where we were accustomed to lighting up even if we didn’t crave a cigarette right at that time.  Once he made us aware of such things, I could immediately identify them in my own life.  Whenever I got in my car, I lit a cig.  When I sat down at my desk – yes, back then we could smoke at work – was another trigger.  If I went to a club I was used to holding a drink in one hand and a cigarette in another.  Lighting up after meals – another trigger.   Those situational events were almost harder to break than the very real, physical craving.  You see, they also taught us that there’s a definitive timeline to a nicotine urge.  It builds for up to ten minutes but when it peaks, it goes away, whether or not you have a cigarette.

I’ve never been able to find out if the same holds true for a hunger craving.

Certain food triggers are a given for me.  If I’m somewhere and food is displayed out on tables – like at a party, or if someone brings in a pile of candy to work or leaves snack foods up for grabs in the kitchen — I want it.  If I have certain foods in the house – they’re often on my mind.  Just the fact that they are in close, available, proximity can serve as a trigger.

Plus, if they’re easily accessible and I fall prey to an emotional trigger, then the foods also become the bullets.  Stress, anger, loneliness, external events that upset or sadden me can allll trigger the urge to eat.  Granted, I could binge on celery if that was the only thing in the house to eat.  While the behavior itself isn’t healthy, at least the food would be better for me than candy.

That thing about keeping trigger foods in the house and believing that I am strong enough in program to withstand going on a binge-fest on them?  It’s a myth of my own making.   I’m fooling myself if I think that’s possible.  To be honest, I’m a little sad and a little pissed off to admit this.   I’d really hoped that I’d become one of those people who can make a single candy bar last a week.  Program teaches us that acceptance is the answer to all of our problems.  This is a reality I need to accept.  I need to not have those trigger foods in the house.

I don’t know why this simple truth annoys me so much.  When my mother was alive, we completely understood that she needed to keep a dry house.  Come to think of it, she resisted the notion, too.  She always wanted there to be beer or wine in case we wanted it to drink — despite the fact that we told her time and again that we didn’t want to drink in her house.  We didn’t even care enough about it to order a drink if we were all out to dinner.  It was her thing to insist.  I guess nobody likes to admit that we have so little control over our own diseases and addictions that booze or drugs or food have power over us.

Intellectually, I get it.  Emotionally, I hate it.  Spiritually, I work toward accepting that if I want to avoid wounding myself and setting back my recovery, I need to be more aware of my trigger foods and keep them as far out of range as possible.

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An Off Switch

A long time ago, I talked about sometime feeling as if my motivation had an on/off switch when I used to diet.  Unfortunately, it was always like someone or something else flicked that switch to the Off position and, just like that, my motivation disappeared.  It was never easy to turn it back on again.

In terms of my eating disorder, I used to long for a different switch, one that could instantly turn off the compulsion, the eating urges, but before I reached for food.  Honestly, when the disease is raging, there is virtually no impulse control.  A package will be open and food already in my mouth or in my stomach before any thoughts of, “No.  Stop.  Don’t eat that” swim anywhere near my conscious mind.  It sucks when the awareness kicks in after the food is swallowed and I think, “I shouldn’t have eaten that.”  Still, that’s the nature of the disease.

I also used to wish that someone would invent a sensor or a chip that emitted a jolt, a sound, a buzz, anything really, to snap me out of the compulsion if I was even tempted to eat on impulse.  It would have to work something like one of those invisible fences people install around their properties to keep their dogs at home.  Now there’s an image — me walking around, wearing a collar with a gizmo that jolted me whenever I got in range of inappropriate food.  I’m not sure how I would designate food as inappropriate.  I can’t exactly install invisible fencing around the rest of the world, or at least the rest of my world.

Such are the useless musings of a compulsive overeater.  In reality, awareness and the ability to put on the brakes on my own compulsive disease aren’t things that can be triggered by switches or microchips.  Awareness is a learned skill.  It goes back to mindfulness with a healthy shot of strong program.  It involves developing a healthy obsession, not with food, but with that eating behavior.  Working a program, putting time and energy – mental energy – into it are all necessary actions.  I can’t phone in the effort.  There’s no remote control.  I have to always do the work.  In program terms, it means being willing to go to any lengths to achieve recovery.

I can be my own off switch.

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Sorry for my Absence

Hi, All,

I was away for a four day weekend and life was crammed busy right before the trip.  I’ve gotten more reluctant to post about when I’m going away because internet stuff and safety have grown increasingly crazy.  If I’d had more time, I’d have pre-written some posts, but I didn’t.  So, my apologies.

It was a terrific trip away.  I went up home to New Jersey for my cousin’s daughter’s wedding.  As is my normal m.o. when I fly up for visits, I try to arrange things so that I get to see as many people as possible.  This trip was no different in that regard.  It was a little different because I had the opportunity to see people who haven’t seen me in a long time.  There were cousins who haven’t seen me in person since before my weight loss surgery.  There were friends who I haven’t seen in 15, 30, even 40 years.  I should qualify that statement — some of these people haven’t seen me in person.  We do connect on Facebook.

As you know I’ve been struggling emotionally and spiritually with my recovery.  This trip helped me with those things.  Yes, I soaked up the amazement over the change in my appearance and the compliments that followed, but it really wasn’t about my ego.  It helped me reconnect with just how far I’ve come in my journey, what I’ve accomplished, and the day to day recovery.  I need these reminders sometimes.  They’re good for my heart and spirit.

I also enjoyed some conversation with my sister-in-law.   When I’m struggling with the eating disorder, I need to hold onto the important fact that even if I have not reached my goal weight and I’m sort of in a holding stage right now, I have not regained the weight that I lost.  Sure, I’ve probably said it before, but that is a major difference in my life.  Whenever I’ve lost weight in the past, I have always, always regained it — and usually with more pounds added on.

So, here I am, holding all of the positives that were showered on me and integrating them into my spirit.  I need to remind myself of this essential part of my recovery.  Time and time and time again.

The disease is an every day reality.  The recovery reminders need to be every day too.

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Defining Abstinence

I was talking to a friend the other day about working on my abstinence.  She asked me to explain.  Have you ever noticed how sometimes your nose is so close against the window of your own issue that you forget the rest of the world isn’t pressed against the glass too?

I thought it might make a good topic to discuss.  The more I work on my own abstinence, the better off I’ll be.

When I first went to a therapist who explained that I had an eating disorder, I was also lucky to have picked one who was in OA herself.  Not only did I begin to be exposed to different ideas about the way I used food, but I started to learn a new vocabulary and new understanding to go with words I knew in different contexts.

Like abstinence for starters.  I knew that for an alcoholic or drug addict, abstinence meant they abstained from drinking alcohol or using drugs.  It’s different for overeaters.  We can’t abstain from consuming food of some sort.  So, abstinence for me means refraining from the behavior of compulsive eating, not avoiding the substance.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve wondered whether it would be easier for me if I actually could go through life no eating at all.  Would the black and white choice of Don’t eat/eat be less of a challenge than having to control when/how/what I eat all of the time.  In a few decades I’ve never determined an answer.  It’s the never ending pondering.

When the therapist first worked with me on attaining abstinence, I was in the grips of a horrible, long-term bout of binge eating.  I’d consume huge quantities of food every day – mostly in the evenings.  I didn’t have a clue how to stop or how to define what abstinence meant for me.

We started with broad strokes that purposely did not require me to limit my quantity per se.  Here’s how it worked.  The goal was for me to experience not giving into the compulsion to eat something just because it was there, or I wanted it, or because I wanted it and it was there.  My first abstinence plan was to wake up and determine what and how much I would eat that day — organized into six meals.  In order for me to claim abstinence that day, I could not eat anything other than I’d planned or eat at any other time than a pre-set meal.

So, if I woke up in the morning and planned that dinner would be an entire pizza, then I was within my abstinence guidelines.  If, however, I planned to eat three pieces of pizza at dinner and then had a fourth – then I was not abstinent.  If I ate two pieces at dinner but then grabbed another piece later that evening, I wasn’t being abstinent.

Sounds a little nutty, doesn’t it?  It was drastic, but it worked.  I learned a lot by employing that method.  After a while, I was able to structure my abstinence to something closer to reasonable nutritional guidelines, but harnessing the disease eating behavior was the most important thing for me in the beginning.

I know what my abstinence needs to be – for today.  A small “meal” every couple of hours, for six times a day.  Do not deviate and pick up extra food at an unplanned time.  Eat in the balanced proportions of my 21 Day Fix.

I’ve talked about my issues with available Halloween candy.  It’s a trigger food for sure.  So today when I set up my abstinence plan, I committed to not grabbing a piece of candy out of the plastic pumpkin currently hanging out in the office kitchen prior to lunchtime.  I have myself permission to have a piece with my lunch but none before 12 noon.  For me, abstinence does not mean never eating chocolate or another sweet treat.  If I want that piece of chocolate, I can have it – as long, and this is the key part, I’ve planned when and how much of it I’m going to eat.  The fact that I held to that plan was a victory for me.  I feel really good about it.

Every time I choose my abstinence and resist the urge to eat compulsively, it’s a win.  Wins are positive things.  Positive actions are foundations on which to build.

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About Compulsion

com·pul·sion
kəmˈpəlSHən/
noun
 1.
  1. the action or state of forcing or being forced to do something; constraint.
    “the payment was made under compulsion
    synonyms: obligation, constraint, coercion, duress, pressure, intimidation

    “he is under no compulsion to go”
  2. 2.
    an irresistible urge to behave in a certain way, especially against one’s conscious wishes.
    “he felt a compulsion to babble on about what had happened”
    synonyms: urge, impulse, need, desire, drive; More

     

    Since I deal (or not sometimes) with compulsive eating behavior as part of my binge-eating disorder, I thought it might be a good topic to discuss.  I know how the behavior manifests, but figured it would be good to see how compulsion is actually defined and then assess how it resonates to me.

    So, definition number one doesn’t match.  Nobody forces me to overeat, eat when I’m not hungry, eat and keep eating, etc.

    Definition number two?  Yes, that’s the one. If there’s a way to highlight words in WordPress, I can’t figure it out, but if I could, I owuld highlight “irresistible” and “against one’s conscious wishes”.  Yes, I really do feel sometimes as if the urge to eat is irresistible, even unstoppable, and it occurs regardless of my conscious desire to stay on my plan.

    Compulsion is a horrible feeling.  Imagine if you couldn’t control your hand and had to watch while it picked up a kitchen knife and stabbed you in your own thigh.  Yes, that’s a really dramatic image, but it serves a point.  When compulsion overcomes my conscious wish and give in to the irresistible urge to eat, I hurt myself — physically, emotionally and spiritually.

    I wish the weight loss surgery had also removed the compulsion, but it didn’t, so I still struggle with it every day.  However, the surgery set me on the road to a good long period of recovery and weight loss.  I’m stronger now than I’ve ever been, so while I have my off periods, I believe in myself.  I’m definitely not going to gain back my weight.  Ultimately, I have come to believe that with the help of a Higher Power, a program, and all of the tools at ready, I am stronger than the compulsion.

    One of the big tools is to set myself up for success instead of creating situations where failure is more likely.  For example, being in the vicinity of bags of candy for Halloween — that’s a big time, doomed-to-fail scenario.  I am absolutely capable of compulsively eating piece, after piece, after mini-piece of candy until I’m sick to my stomach.  Setting myself up for success means not buying the bags and having them in the house.

    You see, once I start, it honestly does feel sometimes like I can’t stop myself.   The time to bring all of the weapons forward to beat back the compulsion is before I take the first piece.  The call to action needs to happen while I still have conscious thought — and when I’m still conscious and aware that the compulsion is bubbling up.

    I’d like to substitute healthier, more positive behaviors for the destructive compulsive ones.  That’s been an ongoing effort.  Exercising consistently.  Practicing good, positive thinking.  Reshaping those old truths.  Exploring the flavors of healthy food and experimenting with new-to-me foods and cooking techniques.  These are all positives.  They take practice.  Continual practice.

    Also on the positive side is recognizing that I have an addictive personality.  If it wasn’t food that became my drug of choice, I know I’d be addicted to drugs or alcohol.  There was a time when I was hooked on cigarettes and also a regular pot smoker.  In the early 80s when I lost more than 100 pounds on an extremely restrictive, medically supervised, diet, I did not yet know that I had an eating disorder, so I wasn’t in any kind of treatment to help me understand and deal with the other aspects of the disorder.  I was only eating nine ounces of protein a day and I wasn’t drinking alcohol when I went out to the clubs three or four nights a week with my friends.  So, I still needed something to make up for the lack of food as a coping mechanism.   I started getting high almost every night.

    Although I spent a lot of years partying in rock clubs with my friends, I didn’t drink to drunkenness every  night and I wasn’t much for drinking at night when I was at home.  I think observing and dealing with my mother’s alcoholism probably contributed to me not making that my addiction.

    I gave up pot a long time ago and have no desire to pick it up again, even on rare, recreational occasions.  I was never into coke or other illegal drugs.  I also tend to avoid prescription pain killers unless absolutely necessary — as in the pain level I’m feeling is at least an 8 on a scale of 1-10 with 10 being unimaginable pain.  Even after surgery when I was recovering at home, I only took a couple of doses of the pain medicine the doctor prescribed.  Today the orthopedic doctor offered to write me a scrip for a stronger medication than over-the-counter pain relievers.  I politely declined.  I’d rather not have it in the house and run the risk of swapping one addiction or compulsion for another.

    Compulsion is ugly, challenging, frustrating and, sometimes, disheartening.  When all is said and done, however,  I refuse to be its victim.  I’m going to borrow from one of my favorite television shows, Scandal, and imagine myself as a gladiator.  I may not win every battle, but I do not run from the war.

     

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