In comments on the previous post, Forest Jane and I talked about how we can’t bring certain foods into the house because they’ll call to us all of the time and we’ll eat them.
I said that I can’t fool myself any longer and think that I won’t binge, in my own post weight loss surgery type of binge, on certain foods if I have them available in my house. This has stayed with me in my mind since. The process of mulling this over caused some things to bubble up for me, even though the concept of keeping my house free of binge-trigger foods is nothing new. It seriously could be the umpteenth time, or even the umpteenth squared time, that I’ve thought about this in the last 30 or so years.
You’d think I’d have gotten the point by now. I have a little disgust twinge going on, but I’m also trying to remember that it doesn’t matter how often we think about something, or hear a suggestion, or even know intellectually that we should do something a certain way… if we aren’t ready, we aren’t ready, and we won’t make the connection. Even if we make the connection, we can dig in our heels and resist.
Acceptance is the key, but I need willingness to reach that point.
I keep thinking that some day, somehow, I’m going to be able to eat “normally”, be a “normal” person when it comes to food. That’s nothing new. I know that for me, the only thing normal about my eating is that I will always be a food addict/compulsive overeater. There is no cure. I can only learn helpful things, tools, and means for keeping in recovery, even while accepting that I will never fully recover.
Today, this acceptance revealed an additional realization. I’ve had it in my mind that when I get to goal weight, I’ll be fixed. I won’t always have to do this, always be mindful, commit every day to working the program, and remain vigilant. That is the worst kind of denial. I can’t believe that I’ve continued to pretend otherwise for so long.
I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it. There’s no time limit on the disease.
Mentally, I’ve known this for decades. Today it feels like the rest of me is catching on, or at least catching up.
I have a lot of feelings about it. I’m a little glum in my acceptance, but at the same time pragmatic — it is what it is. There’s resentment but I’m also ready to embrace it and keep moving forward. While I haven’t worked through it to find the joy, I am catching a glimmer of grace in make these forward steps.
I’m grateful because, at the end of the day, I know that I can continue to recover.
Weighty Matters 
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