So exactly when is “pulling a geographic” NOT “pulling a geographic”?

As much as I love my 12-step program, and the 12-step program from which it’s sprung, I must express a rant about what I see as an excessive use of the term, “pulling a geographic.”  It’s something you hear a great deal when people talk about their struggles with addiction.  For those who may not be familiar with the phrase, it refers to when a person makes a move to a new location, often an entirely different region of the country, in an effort to escape their addiction or unwanted behavior.  Obviously, the idea is to make a “fresh start” in a new place, quite possibly a better place (i.e. in terms of climate, visual appeal, etc.), where maybe no one there knows the person and everything is different.  Often, the thinking is that “things” or the previous residence, the people in that person’s life, etc. are the cause of the unwanted behavior, so by shedding those burdens, everything will fall into place, and the person can put that part of his or her life behind him or her.  And of course, as the story goes, inevitably it doesn’t take long for the very problem the person is trying to escape to come back, often even worse than before.  For those lucky enough to finally get real recovery, this outcome at least becomes a worthwhile lesson, to help the person realize that the problem is not going to be solved through external means.

Now without question, there are instances — many of them — in which the impetus to move was indeed impulsive, or at least came from flawed, naive, wishful (you name it) thinking.  But surely there are also numerous examples in which the move actually proved helpful?  Sure, there may have been the slap-in-the-face realization that recovery would not be such a quick or easy fix, but isn’t it possible that the new environs, if it was more appealing than where they lived before, still set a better stage for recovery?  If I’m a nature and outdoors lover, and I’m living in a location in which there aren’t many lovely places (or interest by most who live there) to experience outdoor recreation, and I move to a place that is bustling with stunning scenery and a culture that embraces the active outdoor lifestyle, aren’t I more likely to recover even as I realize the move alone won’t “fix” me?

I bring this up because the rampant use of the term has created its own insanity in my head.  I have lived in the same area all my life, and I must tell you, that while it has many things going for it, outdoor recreation and good climate are definitely not among them.  Being that my husband and I love the outdoors, love to ski, hike, love the ocean (and water in general), love the mountains, love eating healthfully, love the fit lifestyle…..it’s a stress, living in this area, when there have been so many others we have visited that resonate tremendously with us.  And while economically it’s not practical for us to move right now, the discussion of moving to new surroundings is one that comes up often, even as we accept that it may or not be able to happen.

The problem is, DARN IT, these days I find myself constantly hearing this inner, cynical voice say, “Wouldn’t you just be pulling a geographic?”  It plants a seed of doubt that we would get from the move what we’re seeking, so (again that inner cynic says) “Why not just stay here and content yourself with it?  You have a comfortable life, your house payments not so bad, etc.  Why put yourself into the distress of moving when so many are suffering the consequences of that very decision even as we speak?”

Understand, I have never been so recovered.  Although I believe this will be an ongoing journey that lasts my whole life (and I’m excited about that, like a never-ending adventure), I honestly believe I have never before been in such a solid state of mind, a state of balance, whatever that means.  If ever there was a time that a rational decision to move (or not) could be made, it’s now.  I mean, to put it another way, when is it NOT “pulling a geographic”?  When, in your recovery, do you hit that point in which you’re simply choosing to move, and yes, because you believe your life will be better as a result?  Technically, isn’t that the basic definition of pulling a geographic?  In that sense, outside of those who get a job transfer or are in the military, aren’t we all, in a sense, “pulling a geographic” when we move?

Food for thought.  While I don’t want to think naively about what a move will or will not do for us, I also don’t want the concern of moving “for the wrong reason” to perpetually keep me in this state of “waiting.”  I fear I’ll blink and my life will be at its end and I will regret not changing my horizon at least once, if only out of curiosity for what it would be like.  I realize the opportunity to move may not even appear, and if so, this concern is moot.  And I realize that I may come to a different sentiment; somehow change and appreciate our area more than what I think we would “get” for making a move.  I just want to make sure I’m not shutting out possibilities of change and growth, simply out of this phantom concern for “pulling a geographic”!

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The use (or not) of the term “abstinence”

So I’m continuing an experiment, one that I’d begun a number of weeks back.  Made some changes in my lifestyle, my eating, etc.  It’s been a great journey so far, one that I will continue to recommit to, one that has brought forth some incredible results even as there have also been some challenges and bumps along the way.  Lots of emotions coming up, and the sobering realization that while certain changes do become easier over time, certain vulnerabilites will probably always be part of my makeup.  I actually feel a certain comfort in acknowledging that — it allows me to let go of this fantasy of effortless balance, and to know that a huge part of my long-term success lies in learning how to deal with those times of struggle, rather than think the goal is to eliminate those feelings.

In any event, the success of the last month or so has only further illuminated a stance I have been increasingly veering toward.  That stance is on the subject of abstinence, or at least, the word “abstinence,” with regard to overcoming compulsive overeating.  My involvement with a 12-step program of the past year, while amazing, transformative, life-changing in so many ways….has also challenged me, prompted much inner conflict in deciphering how I define and measure recovery for myself.  Not suprisingly — I say this because it seems this is a hot-button subject for many people, much of this inner conflict has to do with the use of the term “abstinence.”  So often I hear speakers talking about it, often expounding at least enough so as to share how they define their own abstinence.  Even knowing this is a program that is as individual as a snowflake, it’s tough to not hear some of this criteria, be it “I don’t eat sugar” or “I eat three meals a day, nothing in between, no exceptions” or even “I don’t binge…ever” and somehow ponder such a statement against my own eating plan.  Inevitably, questions arise.  Should I be adopting this for myself?  Is it truly possible this person can possibly have eaten exactly this way 100% of the time for the last 18 years?  If I saw what this person looks like (I often listen to speakers via podcast) or if I could follow this person in his or her day-to-day life, would I truly want the kind of abstinence they profess to have?  Am I hearing their words but interpreting them to a paradigm of living that is neither necessary nor achieveable for myself and my goals, and maybe not even accurate to their story, either?

I understand the potential need for such a term.  I do. Especially given that 12-step programs, for the most part, spring forth from the original wellspring of Alcoholics Anonymous.  With AA being modeled on the concept of total abstinence from alcohol, and that there is no “moderate drinking” in AA, it’s understandable that other 12-step programs would seek a way to determine the parallel of that model for themselves.  And I realize that in order to recover from destructive behavior, one way or another, a person needs some kind of definable boundaries to know whether or not he or she is meeting that objective.

The problem I have had all along….and I’m sad to say, still haven’t been able to reconcile….is that I just don’t see how I can possibly boil it down to such simple, cut-and-dried terms on the subject of food and eating.  For starters, life is not so simple.  If I say I won’t eat sugar, all that does is shift my mind to obsessing about what that means.  Does that mean absolutely nothing with sugar in it?  Does that mean nothing with high-fructose corn syrup?  Or is it only certain “sugar items” such as cake?  Or what about the “No bingeing” as my abstinence?  I find that problematic, because to me, any excessively large meal is technically (in my eyes) a binge.  I define a binge as anytime I eat extra food, or amounts that I could not sustain and still maintain my weight.  So to say I won’t binge basically (again, for me) means I will never overeat, and I just don’t think that’s realistic.

But perhaps most important of all is that I think the notion of abstinence takes my mind away from the real goal, the true end result, and that’s a balanced life, a reasonably balanced mind, and a body that’s within my optimal weight range.  I could follow a self-imposed abstinence to the letter and still completely come up short in any or all three of those items.  More over, while I am more than ready, willing and able to go through extra lengths to ensure I’m able to adhere to my food plan and exercise schedule, including those times we’re traveling or socializing, in recent years it’s become apparent that even if 99% of the time I am able to stick to the plan, there are those 1% instances in which it’s just not possible to put my foot down in accordance with this self-imposed boundary.  For example, we were recently invited at the last second to a dear friend’s house for dinner, and said friend is an empassioned cook.  Yes, yes, I’m a veteran of, “Oh, can I bring a salad for all to enjoy?”  But you know what, sometimes no matter how much you try to be gracious, to make such a suggestion would be rude.  It would.  Or maybe it wouldn’t be rude, but my insistence on eating my vinegared lettuce while everyone else is dining on a meal the host painstakingly prepared over two days’ time…..does change the dynamic.  People won’t relate as much to me, fair or not.  To say nothing for the fact that, frankly, I don’t want to call attention to myself and my eating in that way.  Because inevitably, people look at the person shunning the decadent stuff and immediately glance at the person’s weight, as if to assess the efficacy of such a rigid eating structure.  I don’t need that kind of pressure or scrutiny!  But the bottom line is, at least for certain very close-knit friends, I’m just not interested in alienating myself just so that I can pat myself on the back for finding an “abstinent” solution.

Understand, I am NOT challenging anyone else’s use of abstinence as a tool.  If using the term and defining it very specifically for yourself works, please do so.  I’m simply coming to accept that this is one aspect of my program in which I personally will have to depart in philosophy and approach, at least for now.

For me, I don’t want a “perfect report card.”  To me, the “perfect report card” is nothing but a booby prize if my weight didn’t stay where I’m comfortable with it and all I did was take the part of my brain that could have been used for something far more constructive to humanity, and obsess over orienting my eating to keep that absolute perfection going.  And I can’t reconcile the notion of committing to “abstinence,” if at some future point, that definition can be revisited and changed.  What’s the point?  I’d personally feel disingenuous to say I’ve had X years of abstinence, if to break it down you then discover that there’s been no constant in that abstinence.  To me, it renders the term meaningless.

Instead, I’m finding better success in staying connected to my big picture goal, and letting that be my guiding beacon as to how my eating is duly oriented.  I’m preferring to develop the maturity that allows the possibility of having to make an exception every once in a while, without it derailing me.  I find that it all comes down to remaining wholly honest with myself.  Is what I’m currently doing compatable with keeping my recovery moving forward?  Have I gained weight?  Am I becoming sloppy in my eating?  These are the hard questions I need to stay on top of.

Now, does this mean I don’t have a food plan, and a very clearly defined one at that?  Absolutely not!  I weigh, I measure, I count calories, I have a list of foods that are the building blocks of my menus, and that list gets updated more or less on a weekly basis.  Some weeks certain items get removed, others get put on it.  And there are foods I do avoid.  Lots, in fact.  I try to stick with the vast majority of my current foods being my “safe” foods.  I’m staying on top of my weight, my energy levels, my cravings, etc., and I’m finding this infinitely more constructive than obsessing over whether I could pinpoint an official abstinence criteria based on my following this format.

Is it possible that this is, indeed, a form of abstinence, and my steering clear of the actual word is just an exercise in symantics?  Could be.  Just last night, I had a few treats that are outside of my normal food plan (as in, they’re not normally part of my regular “clean eating” days, but they’re on the periphery of my current list).  When I shopped at the store for them, I was tempted to buy something else — a food that I had recently put on my “not eating this for now” list.  But part of the way I work my recovery is that I try not to make any impulsive decisions, and in order to allow a certain food to be eaten, I have to have predetermined whether or not it’s part of my current repertoire.  So….I stuck to my current criteria and held onto my current bottom line.  One could argue that this IS a form of abstinence.  The distinction I would make is that these micro-adjustments, for as deliberate and carefully pondered as they are, occur quite frequently, too frequently for me to feel comfortable umbrella-ing them all under one, unbroken “abstinence.”  It just makes more sense to aim for the best case scenario each day, but in the final analysis, keep the ultimate focus on having good weeks, good months, and staying gruelingly honest with myself at all times.  THAT, for me, is the definition of sustainable recovery for myself.

Just something I needed to write out and acknowledge.  It’s official, the “a” word is not likely to be a part of my recovery vocabulary, and so far that’s working out just fine.

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