Weighty Matters

Before I hit rock bottom with my compulsive overeating/binge eating and started going to Overeaters Anonymous, I carried around as much shame as I did body fat.  There were so many things that I’d done with food or behaviors I’d employed to try to hide my overeating, stuff that I just new nobody normal would even consider.

If someone who was a drug addict or an alcoholic had told me that they’d stolen drugs or that they’d sneaked drinks so nobody saw them drink, I wouldn’t have thought twice.  Those behaviors seemed logical to me for addicts.  But I, like many, many other people, didn’t really believe that food addiction or any eating disorders were also diseases.  I believed that all of the activities that brought me so much shame were the result of my not being able to enforce my own will power.

I lived in terror of someone finding out about my abnormal food behaviors and, even worse, confronting me about them.  The shame was a constant presence that I couldn’t walk away from any more than I could leave behind my own skin.

One of the earliest and best lessons I learned in OA was that I was not the only person in the entire known universe who did the things that I did.  I was not terminally unique.

I can’t begin to adequately describe my relief.  My spirit, so weighed down at that point, lightened immeasurably.  More and more people in the OA meetings shared their stories and they’d done so many of the same things.  Over time, the shame dissipated.   I wasn’t a bad, crazy, awful disgusting person.  I was a human being with a problem, a disorder.

Many, many years later, I still feel that glorious freedom and I remind myself time and time again that I’m not terminally unique and this is a very good thing.

I can see by the stats that there are a lot of people dropping by to read these posts, although the vast majority of you do not leave comments.  That’s absolutely okay.  It’s your choice whether to comment and share your stories.  I respect that and honor your anonymity.  That said, I believe that some of you are also struggling with eating disorders and it’s possible that you’re dealing with shame of your own about behaviors around room.  Maybe you need to hear that you’re not terminally unique, that you aren’t the only one.   I thought I’d share some of my past food behaviors as well as some of the things I’ve never done but that I’ve heard shared by others.  Hopefully, if you’re in a not-so-great space right now, hearing these will help ease some of your shame, too.

Friends, you are not the only person who has ever . . .

Gone through a fast food drive-through and ordered two drinks so the staff would think you were ordering to feed two or three people.

Sneaked food out of someone else’s refrigerator, freezer, drawer, cabinets or candy dish and eaten it when nobody else was looking.

Faked a conversation with someone else while ordered pizza or some other delivered food, again so it looked like you were ordering for multiple people.

Slept-walked to the kitchen in the middle of the night and eaten food, but had no memory of doing so the next morning, even when you saw the empty wrappers and containers.

Eaten a small, “appropriate” amount of food in front of other people in public, and then gorged on more in private.

Thrown food out, determined to not eat any more and then dug it out of the trash and eaten it any way.

You are also not the only person who weighs so much that you’ve . . .

Had a chair collapse or break under you.

Had to get out of a ride at an amusement park because the safety features wouldn’t close around you

Not been able to climb up into a van or truck without help.

Gotten stuck in a bathtub.

Been unable to adequately “clean” yourself and maintain good hygiene.

Not been able to buckle a seat belt in a car.

Gotten momentarily stuck in a turnstile.

Been unable to have a medical test or scan done because you weighed more than the equipment’s capacity

Been told that they had to buy two seats on an airplane

There are probably 100 more examples I could give that I’ve heard or experienced over the years, but this looks to be a pretty good start.  Hope it helps!

It should be really easy to accept a compliment.  Two words suffice, “Thank you”.

Not so easy when you’ve spent most of your life feeling like you don’t deserve compliments about your appearance or feel like the person saying something nice about you to you must be delusional, lying to be nice, or out of their ever-loving mind.

Following through on the idea of unconditionally accepting myself, I’m going to work on graciously and sincerely accepting compliments on my improving appearance.  I need to stop deflecting by saying things like, “I have so far still to go”.  Even if I reply “That’s very kind of you to say”, I can practically hear my unspoken “but you’re wrong” hanging in the air.

All I have to say is “Thank you”.  For an articulate woman, this should not be difficult.  Even if I’m having a bad moment or not quite feeling worthy, I’m still going to stay thanks.  And mean it.

It isn’t that I don’t appreciate the kindness and support shown to me with each and every compliment.  It’s just that I’m still repairing the internal emotional wounds.

I think I made some progress earlier today.  I went to a picnic of members from the Tai Chi society to which I now also belong.  Even though I’m still a beginner and haven’t learned all of the moves and sequences, when the group gathered to do a full set, I took my place with the others who represented a wide range of experience.  The folks who have done this set for years encouraged us to participate and keep going even when the group moved beyond the moves that we know.   I was really pleased that I could follow along pretty well.  At the end of the set, one of the instructors asked if it was my first time.  When I said yes, she then complimented me on how well I’d done.

Oh my goodness.  A compliment about something I did that involved my body and movement!  I started to get all “look down and scuff my foot” about it, but I remembered my earlier resolve and simply said, “Thank you”.

In that moment, it wasn’t as difficult as I feared.  I’m going to build on the experience and practice doing it each time I’m complimented.  I’m going to a convention in a few weeks and will see several people for the first time since before I had surgery.  I know my friends will comment on the weight loss.  My attitude about the comments in a choice.  I’m going to accept the compliments with grace and, by so doing, accept myself with a little more love each time.

Whenever I went on a diet in my life, and there were many, many times that I did, I always craved foods I wasn’t supposed to eat.  I always felt deprived, not of quantity, but of the actual foods.  Nearly all of my life, I wanted to be able to eat any food that appealed to me.  I wanted to eat like a “normal” person.   Of course, I never realized there is no single “normal”.  Everyone is different.  Some of us adore chocolate and other sweets.  Others want to scarf on fried foods all of the time.  There are carb cravers and those who would rather eat fresh fruits and veggies over anything else.

My older brother stopped eating meat some 40 years ago.  He eats dairy, eggs and seafood but not beef, lamb, pork or chicken.   I love all of those things except for seafood.

Yes, there’s the irony.  We who have always struggled with weight are usually advised to eat lean meats, poultry and seafood.  Lots of seafood.  I’ve loathed fish, shellfish, other swimmy things all of my life.  I grew up Catholic and prior to 1968 we weren’t permitted to eat meats on Fridays.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t convince my mother to always let me eat eggs, grilled cheese or macaroni and cheese on Fridays.  Sometimes, I was forced to consume tuna or fish sticks.  I doused the tuna in mustard and poured ketchup on the fish sticks to choke them down.

But I digress.  Back to the diets and cravings.

No matter how good I did on any particular diet, there would come a time when a craving got the best of me and I’d give in.  A candy bar, some cookies, a McDonald’s sausage, egg and cheese biscuit, a milk shake, pizza — I wanted them like I wanted to breathe.  They’d call to me like the sirens in the Odyssey lured sailors.  I always told myself that I could limit myself to just a taste, a sample, a one time thing.  Then, I said, I’d go right back on the successful diet.  Unfortunately, while I might be successful going that route for a little while longer, eventually I’d crash my diet ship on deadly rocks and sink my own best efforts.

One of the biggest surprises for me right now post-surgery is that I don’t experience cravings.  I don’t sit here night after night and consider running up to the convenience store for a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.  I haven’t picked up a bag of miniature chocolates to keep in the house “just in case” the urge for a single piece hits me strong.   Over the weekend I bought a single chocolate chip cookie with my lunch when pre-surgery, I would have purchased three and eaten them all after finishing the sandwich.   This time, I didn’t consume the cookie at one meal.  Hand to God, that one cookie lasted for three different meals!  This is crazy in a great way.

I can’t imagine how much it would suck if I had to live my days constantly craving rich, sugary, carb-laden, or fatty foods.  Even if I craved them, I wouldn’t be able to eat them in big quantities.  I’m so relieved that, for now, I can handle the occasional treat.  I went to dinner with friends last night and ordered a steak and cheese sandwich.  (Grilled skirt steak with cheese, onions and peppers on a pretzel roll, served with a side of seasoned fries.   I picked out a couple of pieces of meat with some of the veggies and cheese and slowly ate the bites.  I had a couple of french fries but didn’t want any more.  I tasted the pretzel roll, but preferred the yummy steak instead.

This is a huge difference.  I’m not only eating according to the guidelines I’ve been given, but I also actually want to eat the good-for-me stuff.  At home when I think about cooking a meal, I rarely think of adding a starch to the dinner.  Last night’s fries were the first potatoes I’d had since before the operation.  Tonight I had meat and veggies and was absolutely satisfied.

I’m amazed.  I’m also grateful.  I hope that this remains the new normal.  Let the cravings stay away.  I want to continue to eat sensibly, including the occasional “treat” food without blowing myself completely off course.  Because this is my choice, I no longer feel deprived and I believe that’s making the difference!