From novelty to “the rest of my life”: Keeping the momentum moving forward

Not a long post today, only that I’m continuing with my abstinence and ecstatic about this, and am finding a new phase is opening up as I continue.  Sure, there was the glee of actually making it through the holidays abstinently, but now it’s “back to business.”  Or rather, it’s “to business,” since I never hit this degree of recovery, for it to be called “business.”  I’m appreciating that the longer I stay abstinent, while at the same time working a vigorous program, the more I’m seeing the life I was preventing unfold.  It’s exciting and scary at the same time (if I had a dime for every time I’ve said that sentence…).  What I’m noticing is, first, some of the “gems” of recovery, ones that I heard about but didn’t fully understand initially, are presenting themselves as experiential realities.  What a miracle.

But what I’m especially noticing is how there seems to be a point in which the thrill and challenge and emotional transition that those initial 6+ months entailed….are fading and giving way to a new phase.  I can see how this can be a point in which people lose their focus, because it’s no longer new, and many of those initial decisions and processes of creating a routine….well those have been made, and the routine(s) are under way.  Sure, there’s an ongoing evolution, but it’s unfolding much more gradually.  The addict in me faces the temptation of wanting to “tweak,” and I’m having to learn the art of letting go, and living by the words, “If you like what you’re getting, keep doing what you’re doing.”  So now the challenge comes in, being in acceptance that I no longer get to spin my wheels around the minutiae of my food plan, what program lies out there that could help me, or why I do what I do.  Which means now my attention must be turned to the person my HP intends for me to be!  It feels gratifying, but there’s still some sense of “loss” involved.

At the same time, I’m appreciating that I’m feeling the flow of GOOD habits becoming a part of my life, which means there’s an ease in going about my day, and knowing what to do next, if only I surrender to it and not take back my will and start second-guessing it all.

You know, you tend to hear one of two stories:  You hear stories of people still caught up in the depths of their eating disorder, or you hear about those who have recovered with some time under their belt.  I feel like I’m in that in-between zone, and it’s interesting to watch this portion of the story unfold.  It’s not as clear-cut, it’s sometimes somewhat mundane at first glance (i.e. no news = good news), and yet it’s really the meat of recovery.  I can stand up and give all sorts of testimonials as to how great life is, and it is, but the real story lies in the day-to-day work, which I sometimes think gets lost in the general telling of what life is like, or how a person got to where they’re currently at.

Anyway, that’s where I’m at now.  I hope this entry can be of help to someone.

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Abstinence during the holidays: The best gift of all

I seem to open every post with this, but I’m cringing at seeing that my last post was before Thanksgiving, and here it is, three days after Christmas!  What’s amazing is how much life, program and recovery have been taking place since that time, despite the absence of checking in.  Knock on wood, life has been good.

This “holiday season” (however you define it) has brought a unique gift this year:  Higher Power-willing, I will have abstained from those “big ticket item” foods that ordinarily are as omipresent in my holidays (and the days in between) as the Vince Guaraldi “Snoopy” music I find irresistable at this time of year.  It wasn’t necessarily my goal, more a matter of, “I’m already steering clear of these things, I wonder what it would be like if I just kept going through the holidays?”  I keep telling myself that I can always revisit this eating plan for next year, but for now, these are my boundaries.  Can I tell you the sheer relief this has brought?  We’ve had some of these foods in the house on a regular basis — my husband is a normie and I would never ask him to deprive himself just because I’m not eating something — yet I’ve been surprisingly free of temptation or craving for them.  Sure, I’ve had days in which I’m extra-hungry or I’m feeling cravings, but only for the items that I’m currently eating, nothing that’s “off the list.”  What a miracle this is!

What’s even more astonishing is that I was able to bake Christmas cookies this year — four varieties in all (I used to bake over a dozen varieties, but decided such would be asking for trouble this year) — and not a problem at all!  I looked at it like I’m just doing a craft, a craft that happens to smell heavenly.  I didn’t even equate the cookies as something that’s edible; just a fun way for me to create something for others to enjoy, while I get to zone out.

Now I will tell you, it would be remiss of me to claim that there’s been positively no negative aspect to this process.  I’ve had many moments in which I’m feeling a sense of mourning, a sadness that I’m not partaking in something that let’s face it, I enjoyed a great deal my whole life.  Yes, that “enjoyment” brought with it a mighty price in the form of pain and destruction, but duh, if there wasn’t an addictive pleasure attached to the experience, I wouldn’t be a compulsive overeater!  But I’ve coped with these moments in several ways.  Sometimes it’s just taking a deep breath and letting myself feel the feeling.  Other times I just tell myself, “You’re not having it right now, but you can always revisit your plan in a couple of weeks.”  Or, I simply stop thinking about it and think about something else.  If it’s a food thought, sometimes just thinking about one of the foods that I CAN eat — and very much ENJOY eating — is all I need to let go of the thought.  I’m beginning to appreciate that no choice in life is necessarily without a mixed bag of positive and negative feelings, that feeling 100% about any decision is rare.  My addict mind doesn’t like this, but I’m learning to live with it. 

Even so, I know better than to let my guard down.  If anything, I seem to be retaining a low-level nervousness that’s keeping me on top of working my program.  I think a little fear is a healthy thing; it helps me remember the pain of where I was, and to keep one of my favorite program quotes in my mind:  “If you like what you’re getting, keep doing what you’re doing.”

I should point out that the real gift in all of this, isn’t just the peace and good health this is bringing to me, it’s the fact that I’ve been able to keep a clear head so that I could be of better service to others during this time.  I can genuinely enjoy the company of my loved ones, and be available to them in return.  I can think of others other than myself, and constantly seek ways to be kind and helpful.  I’m no longer obsessing about my eating, what I will wear, how I look, etc.  The irony is, I’m at the most comfortable weight of my life, but rather than “show it off,” I’ve taken to just wearing pleasant, simple, somewhat “neutral” outfits.  I want people to see me — the real me — and not be distracted by flashy clothes or outlandish jewelry.  I’m no longer out to “wow” people or “impress” them with my body.  My body is not really my business; I do my best to take care of it and I have to respect whatever HP decides is the outcome of that. 

So if you’re struggling, please keep coming back.  When I think of ALLLLL the horrible pain, all the stumbles, the struggles, the relapses, the honest efforts that always seemed to fizzle, I’m stunned that I could somehow have arrived at this point.  But it did happen, and as nervous as I am about making sure I do what is needed to keep going on this path, I’m 100% convinced that the reason this all did happen was because of my program, and my willingness to work it diligently.  There’s hope, hang in there!

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The annoyance of “by the skin of my teeth” and “close shave” successes

It’s been almost two months since my last post.  I’m guessing that lack of posting generally signifies one of two things:  either 1) great success at the moment (no impetus to post) or 2) lots of struggles at the moment (no desire to post).  I suppose there’s also an Option 3) extraordinarily busy (not enough interest to post to overcome time impediments).  Happily, I’m falling into the first category.  It’s almost scary to write this, as I know the dangers that befall a person when success is high — so too is the risk of complacency or freaking out into self-sabotage.  But indeed, I am experiencing a degree of recovery as never before, and God willing, I have every intention to keep that going.  Definitely not without challenges.  It amazes me, how long it can be since I ate certain foods, and I can still have thoughts about them.  But I deal with those thoughts with a perpetual, “Not for now.  But I can revisit my food list later, and maybe add them back then.”  How funny, the mind games we must play!

Of course, recovery encompasses — and is happening because of — so much more than just the food management, per se.  If anything, I can see how so many will say, the food management is almost more the byproduct of other actions and measures, rather than one of the tasks in itself.  I’m not sure that’s entirely true, but I will definitely concur that it’s because of all those “other things” that  I have made the strides that I have, and not because, say, I found the “perfect” food plan or am taking a particular “magic” supplement.

To say I’m grateful doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of my happiness with my recovery.  But there’s a nitpicky annoyance that has been with me all along, at least ever since I first began to pursue recovery from my eating disorder, lo so many years ago.  And that’s my perfectionist mind’s kneejerk rejection of those days in which success/abstinence is kept “by the skin of my teeth.”  Probably anyone who has worked on recovery from either compulsive overeating or some other eating issues knows what I’m talking about.  There are those days, thankfully, in which I am graced with an abstinence and fluidity of conduct that feels very solid, very natural, like a well-oiled machine.  I work my program, do what I need to do, and prepare and enjoy my meals with great ease and satisfaction.  Days like that feel like, “Yes, boy, have I made progress!”  Then there are days like yesterday, and into today.  Drove husband to the airport over the weekend for a business trip.  Woke up yesterday morning to a flat tire.  Stress-stress-stress.  I’ve never had to take my car in for repair; normally my husband gets the honors.  On top of that, it was an exceptionally busy work day.  I also had some very positive, exciting things happen to me, concerning my work and accolades from it.  In other words, a very, very intense and hectic day.  I knew such a day is just ripe for feeling triggered, and in the past it almost certainly would have culminated in a huge binge, to take the edge off my adrenaline.  But I worked the tools of my program more intensively than ever, and managed to emerge from the day unscathed — meals went as planned, my recovery and abstinence intact.  What a wonderful feeling of accomplishment that was.

But I also knew that today would be tough.  I had a much lighter schedule, would be working out of the house much of the day.  Dangerous, because this represents the “day after” a hyper-frenetic day like yesterday.  And living up to its promise, it was a tough day to stay on task.  I believe that the day will finish on a positive note — another abstinent day, and if it does, I expect tomorrow to be much easier, as I will not only be busy (as in, out of the house, away from isolating busy), but by then it will be two days removed from Monday’s unexpected twists and turns, which means probably things will calm down to their normal levels for me — “things” being my emotions, my body’s physiology, my focus, etc.  So I just need to get through dinner without picking up extra food.

So good news, assuming this all goes as planned.

But it annoys me.  It annoys me that today was as hard as it was to get through.  If I had a dime for every time I had a thought that involved the desire to eat “out of today’s box,” I’d be able to retire right now.  God willing if I make it to bed abstinent, it will not be a gracefully abstinent day; I will be abstinent “by the skin of my teeth.”  I don’t like this, even as I realize that this is simply the way life works.  Some days are effortless, some are effortful, some in between.  That’s progress, I suppose.  At one time, I would have had a meltdown for sure, dismissing a day like this as “inauthentic,” as if the fact that it involved shades of white-knuckling, means that it doesn’t “count,” that it’s not “real” recovery but just me proving that I can hold on for dear life under duress.

But I realize, even as I type this, that all that matters is that I remain abstinent.  For today, it doesn’t matter how “close” I came to eating out of order, it doesn’t matter that it wasn’t a smooth sail.  All that matters is that I remain abstinent.  Sure, I can continue to work my program, work the steps, pray to my HP, work the tools, and hope that in so doing, I strengthen my recovery so that days like this aren’t as intensely challenging, or at least that the frequency is reduced, but I have to accept that there may continue to be days that surface such as this, which means in order to stay recovered, I just need the willingness to deal with the discomfort and accept that my abstinence “pearls” will not always be silky smooth or rock-solid, that they will sometimes look quite “messy” or feel rather choppy.  But I have to assume that it’s in dealing with these very days that I will make the greatest growth.  So I must embrace them the way I embrace those lovely, practically-on-autopilot abstinent days.

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There’s something magic in taking action

I’m getting to the point in my recovery in which I’m starting to see what speakers mean when they talk about that “I can’t put my finger on it” factor that causes certain things to “work” in recovery.  I can’t tell you how many times I had heard the various suggestions, whether they be to pray or to spend some time each morning reading some literature or remaining in regular contact with a sponsor or writing down what you plan to eat or….you get the idea….and wondered how could it help?  Or put it this way, how could it help in the way the person described, which is to say, to either stop a trigger in its path or help one to not want to eat compulsively in the first place?  Especially with my eating history:  I certainly have been a veteran of variations of those kinds of actions over the years, and although I will agree that vigilance in certain areas have undoubtedly helped me (if not for my food and exercise journals, daily calorie counting, weighing and measuring my food, I know I would have escalated to much higher, unchecked amounts of food in my regular eating and found myself in an even worse situation than I already was), I can’t say I had experienced the kind of “Eureka, it works!” effect that they were describing.

But being I was experiencing some small success in my program, and given the many different ideas offered up by speakers — including ones that didn’t seem so scary to me and in fact sounded appealing, something in me said hey, why not try it.  What’s the worst that can happen?  You discover no change.

Did I instantly feel a change?  Not really.  But it’s amazing how these things build on themselves.  One small change — for example, a commitment to make the bed every day — led to another, such as making sure I give myself the gift of a soothing shower at least once a day.  Time was set aside to read literature daily, and to allocate the time/option to write, when needed.  I made sure to stay in touch with my sponsor, and to stay in touch with myself, to stay honest about what I’m eating and what’s best left off the menu right now.  I began communicating with my Higher Power, which at first felt a bit esoteric, but eventually I found ways to find an authentic means of interacting with a Higher Power of my understanding.  Brick by brick.

And all I can say is, it does work.  I’m increasingly convinced that one way it works is because it’s not necessarily the action in itself (though sometimes I think it is), but the fact that I’m DOING it shows a willingness for me to change.  I’m taking an action toward behaving differently, rather than just endlessly “hoping” or “willing myself” into a desired behavior.  Could it also be a sense of self esteem?  That is, by taking these actions, I feel better about myself, and the desire to hurt my body with food it doesn’t need is diminished if not even repellent?  Maybe.

But that’s kind of my point:  I think the whole thing is counterintuitive.  You just can’t comprehend in advance how it is that this action, whatever it is, is somehow going to be of help.  Perhaps that’s part of the disease — the inability to appreciate what such actions can do for you.  I don’t know.  All I know is, if I go ahead and take the action anyway, regardless of whether I think it will help or how I think it will help, by golly, it helps!  And it usually appears to have helped for an entirely different reason than I would have assumed.

Here’s an example:  I’m on my way home from my work.  It’s quite late, and I still haven’t had dinner yet.  I love this job, but it stresses me.  By the time the day is done, even if I’ve had a great day, I’m keyed up.  In fact, if anything, the better the day went, the more hyper I am, which means the more I can be triggered into trying to alleviate that excess emotion with food.  I feel my throat tightening, and I’m feeling increasingly convinced that the meal I have planned for myself, that only hours ago was something I was genuinely excited about, is not going to be enough.  I arrive home feeling ravenous — partly genuinely so, as I’m long overdue for a meal (unfortunately, certain of my work days are just set up that day, I can’t change that).  On top of that, it’s not long before bedtime, so I’m also tired.  It’s as though my recovery immune system is weakened, which is like putting the welcome mat out for my eating disorder to strike.

Ah, but I now have a tool that’s served me well.  The shower.  I have already made plans to take a nice, long shower after work.  This will help calm me down, and it’s also a pleasure that soothes me in a way that’s very similar to what food used to do.  After my shower, I’m planning to lie down quietly for 2 minutes or so, eyes closed, to decompress one step further.  THEN I will calmly, slowly, prepare my meal.

In the old days, I guarantee you, those plans would have gone out the door.  I’d have made some excuse to myself as to why it’s not going to work anyway, and besides, it’s already late, I really need to eat, I deserve to eat, blah blah blah.  And gee, suprise surprise, the unpleasant but predictable outcome would have come about, like clockwork.  Another awful night.

But now, even if I have those voices (though they’re much quieter these days) trying to talk me out of those “pointless” strategies, I now know better than to listen.  I ignore the voices, and even as I honestly believe at that moment that it’s not going to “work,” I go through with the plans for my shower, anyway.  That’s my commitment, I tell myself.  My job is to take the action, let HP take over from there, and let go of the outcome.

And I tell you, something happens right about the middle of the shower.  Suddenly, those voices fade.  I don’t usually notice when it’s happening, only when suddenly I realize that several minutes have gone by and the urge is gone!  Suddenly I’m smelling the fragrance of my soap, I’m feeling the warm water cascading over my body, feeling comforted and enveloped in this safe cocoon.  Stepping out of the shower and into my fluffy robe, my mind is quiet, the way one feels when they’re humming to themselves while performing some task.  After lying on my back as scheduled, I take a deep breath and proceed to take my time in my dinner preparation.  This can sometimes be a hard transition, as by now I do have genuine hunger and it can leave me feeling impatient to eat.  But if I keep relaxed and take my time, do a meticulous job in pulling out my utensils and ingredients and turning on something nice as background sound, I soon find myself relaxing back into the “zone.”  99% of the time, the meal proceeds as planned, the rest of the night goes lovingly, and I’m nearly tearful with gratitude as I go to bed and feel my body lulling itself to sleep with a comfortable stomach.

I’m not hear to say that this measure is foolproof, or that this one measure alone is what thwarts the lurking problem.  On the contrary, I know I cannot become so complacent, and I do believe that it’s probably more an accumulation of many more actions than just this one that leads to the outcome I’ve described.  But what I am saying is, I could not have predicted that these kind of actions would help me with my disease, nor can I tell you exactly WHY they help.  Why does the shower seem to do the trick, and not the drive home while listening to a favorite radio show?  Why do I seem to get better recovery when I’m regularly praying to my HP?  Why is staying cognizant of the steps, and continuing to work them a factor in keeping me in my recovery?  It defies my mind’s ability to understand or explain.

So yes, I can only chalk it up to…..there’s some magic going on here.

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Self knowledge avails me…something, actually

One of the lessons I’m learning in my recovery is to understand my brain’s wiring.  This is actually a point on which I disagree with that recovery adage, “Self knowledge avails us nothing.”  I understand what “they” mean — I can certainly point to many failed attempts at my own recovery, in which I did way too much self-analysis yet took curiously little action to put that information to use.  I assume the adage is a warning against thinking that just because you know yourself, just because you’ve gained some insight as to “why” you do things a certain way or that you’re, say, an inherently anxious person….that suddenly you’ll magically stop engaging in your destructive behaviors, based on this knowledgge alone.  That, I get.  But I would amend the adage to say, “Self knowledge ALONE avails us nothing.”  Because isn’t Step 1 the quintessential demonstration of self knowledge?  “We admitted we were <fill in the blank>, that our lives had become unmanageable.”  This identifies the problem, does it not?  So even with the most basic of applications of the 12-step model, you have (in my opinion) self knowledge kicking the whole thing off.

Anyway, my point is actually not to argue that philosophic departure of mine, but rather, to offer up a nugget of self knowledge I’ve acquired, and in fact to comment on the peace of mind it’s bringing to realize this, and to accept it.  And….maybe to raise the question, is this a common trait among addicts?  Or at the very least, a common trait among those with eating disorders?

I’m realizing more and more just how easily my mind gets overwhelmed.  Heck, just going to Word Press’s home page can be overwhelming.  The vast number of blogs out there, for some reason, makes my brain go “tilt”!  In my work, I’m often having to attend to multiple projects at once, ones that evolve and change constantly.  Being one who likes a clear, step-by-step action plan, having to just perform the next indicated action — geeze, sometimes even just CHOOSING the next indicated action — in a work situation for which there often aren’t such clearly delineated blueprints — can paralyze me.  At the same time, it energizes me, it’s part of what I enjoy about my chosen path.  Weird?

It’s one more insight as to why I used to abuse food so.  Because my brain is NOT a comfortable place to be when I’m experiencing those feelings.  I’m learning to just accept that this is the way I am, and to either ignore the minor panic and keep on keeping on (a strategy I have found very helpful), or turn to actions that help me to break up and dispense the panic, give my mind something else to latch onto.  But without my program, without this new outlook and these tools to counter those feelings, I can see why I found it necessary to use food as a means of escaping and “zoning out” when the brain cramped.  But I also wonder, is this a common hallmark of addicts?  Are we more sensitive to sensory input, or information bombardment, or trying to think through all possibilities (and of course, think through a solution to each), and therefore create this madness from which we’re almost compelled to seek some quick-fix respite?  I wonder.

Anyway, that’s the musings of today.

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“Eureka, it works!” Finding new ways to rechannel “binge” energy into other activities instead

If you’re suffering from binge-eating or compulsive overeating, I feel obligated to post this for you, now that I’m genuinely experiencing what I’m about to describe.  I know how MANY times I used to honestly wonder how I could possibly find alternatives to bingeing, when no matter what I tried, it seemed the pressure-cooker would build, until finally I felt like I had no choice, I had to release that pent-up emotional energy somehow!  And truthfully?  I probably would have kept going, albeit with the incremental improvements I was still making in certain aspects of the behavior (sometimes so incremental I think you’d have needed an electron microscope to detect them), had it not been for one nagging development:  it stopped working!!!  No matter what I did, I could not jump back into that “zone” of escape.  DRAT if I remained stubbornly in the same emotional state I was trying to temporarily migrate out of, only now I’m eating all these calories and absolutely miserable knowing the damage this would render only hours later.  The worst of both worlds!

So you could say the final straw was this loss of being able to do the presto-switcho.  Suddenly there was no point.  And of course, I tried this a few times before I had to conclude the frustrating (looking back life-saving) reality:  My. Eating. Addiction. Had. Expired.  Never saw it coming.

In any event, that’s when I began to take seriously the plan of finding out avenues for stress release, and measures that would reduce the build-up of that stress in the first place, and put them to action.  I had no idea if they would work, but I gave them a try with the assumption and hope that they would.  My attitude was, “What could it hurt?  It has to help somehow.”

And now, with a period of time under my belt and a sense of growing perspective, I can honestly say YES, they WORK!  I think much of it comes down to, you have to be honestly ready to want to stop the behavior.  I “wanted” to stop the behavior for many years, but deep down I think what I really wanted was to stop WANTING to do the behavior.  Meaning, I wanted to stop FEELING TRIGGERED.  But of course, that’s wishful thinking.  Extinguishing triggers, at least for me, has been a process, not a “one day I woke up and they were gone!” phenomenon.  So it turns out, what I needed was to reach that willingness to face a life without bingeing or compulsive overeating, and all the fears and panic and grieving that came with it, before I could then even think about truly reconstructing a life without it.

In any event, I don’t want to tangent too far, other than to say, if you’re reading those self-help books or going to a therapist about cognitive-behavioral type strategies, namely those that include finding alternative rewards or stress-releasing activities as a way to displace your bingeing, I’m here to give you hope that it can help you.  Hang in there, it’s better than I ever imagined!

Since example often gives better clarity than the general, let me share some of the activities I’m currently finding particularly soothing — ones that honestly I look forward to way more than the idea of compulsive eating:

• Taking a long, warm, leisurely shower, with fragrant soaps and shampoos, closing my eyes and feeling the water flowing over my body.
• Doing stretches on my back while listening to a favorite podcast.
• Doing yoga in my exercise room, in front of an open window.
• Taking a short walk, not in the “fitness” sense, more in a leisure mindset.
• Making a cup of my favorite tea (by the way, for those times I have eaten too much — yes, they still happen, just nothing like it was — I have found great success in curtailing my eating by taking a “tea break” in the middle of the meal).
• Setting the coffee maker on timer, and putting my favorite inspirational book on the kitchen table the night before, so I have my coffee and morning literature ready to go for when I wake up.
• Doing crossword puzzles and other mind games.
• Wearing my headset when I grocery shop, zoning out to music or a podcast.
• Listening to music or the radio while taking a long, relaxed time to prepare our meals.
• Wearing nice clothes that feel good on me.
• Stopping and taking some deep breaths, looking outside or around wherever I’m at.
• Making the bed and tidying up the house, not in a punishing, “must get this done” way, but in an, “It’s so nice to be in a clean environment” way.

The list goes on, but you get the idea.  These things may do nothing for you, but they’ve proven their value beyond my wildest dreams for me.

Now I realize that eternal vigilance is the game here; I can’t think I’m “done” and can coast from here on out.  For starters, I’m still progressing, and experimenting to determine what’s helpful and what isn’t at the moment.  I have to know this isn’t the end of the story, but I’m actually excited — curious — to see what’s going to happen next!

Bottom line:  it’s wonderful to see that some measures — the very ones that I avoided for years because they struck me as too simple or somehow I just “knew” they would never work (somewhere I’m sure I had tried a few, half-heartedly, no doubt “proving” to myself of their futility) — REALLY DO WORK if you work them!

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The frightening caloric total, how did my body ever handle it?

Just out of curiosity, as I wrote in my journal today, I fished my memory to the best of my abilities and wrote in gory detail a list of the foods I’d typically consume when choosing to succumb to what I used to call a “Junk Food Binge.”  That was my code for anything goes, no food is off the potential list, no attempt to observe or even define certain boundaries (funny how when removing any boundaries always seems to lead to junk food and not, say, “the all-melon binge” or the “any flavor of kefir I want binge”).  I’ve always been aware of the staggering calories I must have consumed, as I still count calories to this day as part of my food plan.  In fact, counting calories is so second-nature to me, by now it’s actually more comforting TO count calories than to try to eat without having that automatic awareness be part of my selection.  Yet, it seems part of my bingeing was rooted in the need to say to heck with rules, and I kept myself mostly ignorant on how much I was actually consuming during these episodes.  “More than 3000” is about as far as I wanted to think about it.  Until today.  Yow.

I’m seriously frightened by what the sum total must have been at my worst.  My poor body, when I think of the load I caused to so many of my organs and systems, it breaks my heart and makes me sick.  At the same time, I don’t know how my body managed to handle it without the degree of weight gain you would have expected.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m very active, have always been involved wth athletics and have always been vigilant about jumping back into serious clean eating following a binge.  Even so, surely these measures alone could not have negated the mass ingestion, at least that’s how it seems in hindsight.  I mean, my weight is pretty much the same as it was back in those days, and I can promise you, my net totals over a typical week or a typical month are nowhere near as high.  I exercise pretty much the same, so no change there.  How do I explain the disparity?

I can only speculate, and even then there’s really no point, just an interesting thing to ponder.  Does the body actually hit a point in which it simply can’t absorb more than “X” calories over a given period of time, so once I crossed “X” I couldn’t absorb any more?  Was I simply given the grace of a normal-weight body until I was ready to take action for my recovery?  Was I in fact still exercising more, and doing more restricting on my regular food days than I’m remembering?

Yet another reason why I’m so grateful to be at the point I’m at in my recovery.  I can only pray that I always remember how horrible, awful, panicked, miserable, depressed I was during that time.  How many times did I write the words, “So SCARED!” in my food journal.  How many times did I lay in bed, so sick to my stomach after ravaging it all night with sugar, fat and carbs, that the sound of my poor stomach wimpering (at least, that’s what it sounded like to me) made me cry?

Of course, on a lighter note, it’s still depressing, seeing how quickly those calories can STILL add up.  Anyone check the label on a can of nuts or a bag of trail mix?  Ouch!  Not fair.

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The Endless “Tweaking” of the Food List

One of the more sobering revelations of recovery for me is that it’s never truly static.  There’s a part of my mind that loves the idea of, “This is THE Solution, From Here on Out.”  In that regard, on some level I find the recovery from alcohol a bit enviable; if you’re of the total abstinence camp, then that’s it, you’re done (as far as pinpointing what it is you need to avoid).  It’s not like, “Gee, for now I’ll just have 4 ounces of beer after dinner, and maybe next month I’ll switch that to a glass of Riesling every Friday night.”  But with eating, there’s just no cut-and-dried, permanent definition of what I can and cannot eat — at least for me (ditto for behaviors, but that’s a tangent for another post).  Furthermore, the criteria on which these “cans” and “cannots” are determined are different for each person.  My definition of recovery includes keeping my body within a certain weight range, which means I may have to deal with more cravings or imposed choices with my eating than someone whose goal is to be more at peace with her food, and is more surrendered to letting the weight “chips” fall where they may based on that criteria.  I think that’s part of what makes listening to others’ stories confusing at times.  Someone who appears to be more “settled” in her eating habits, who doesn’t seem to fluctuate in what her food plan entails, may in fact feel perfectly comfortable at a weight range that wouldn’t work for me, and this allows her to perhaps be more relaxed about how much she’s eating, what she’s eating, etc.  It’s been my experience that the more precise one’s weight goals, the more meticulous one’s food planning needs to be, and the more likely that there will be times that satiety will have to be partly sacrificed for the overarching goal.  It’s just the realities of weight management, especially for a person who’s natural appetite is still quite high.

Anyway, with the above in mind, one way I strive to stay on top of my recovery and eating is to remain hyper-vigilant of constantly reviewing what’s currently working and what is not.  For me, this is more or less a daily process.  At the very least, I’m logging my food, the calories, etc., and in so doing, momentarily reflecting on my overall sense of how the day went, how it felt.  But I’m also frequently pulling out my personal food list, scanning it (partly for menu planning — i.e. “Oh yeah, that’s right!  I can have grilled zucchini!  Oh maybe I’ll make some with dinner…”), reflecting on how satisfied I am with my meals and their impact on my fitness, satiety, health and body shape, and determining whether some tweaking is in order.  There are foods that work brilliantly for me for a long time, then all of a sudden start to cause problems, at which point I’ll often remove them from the list temporarily.  Then there are those foods I have avoided for a long time, but that I’m momentarily pondering.  I may put those tentatively on the list, and see if this time around I may have better success in incorporating them into my plan.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this, other than to acknowledge that, while this can feel tedious at times — I think my inner “recovery police” sometimes wants to take a cynical assessment of this.  Like, “Well gee if you were REALLY recovered, would you need to be doing this?” — I’m increasingly recognizing that for me, yes, I need to do this.  For my goals and how I define recovery, this isn’t just necessary, this is PART of that recovery.  To me this is part of the concept of “going to any length” in order to get and keep recovery.  If anything, it’s kinda cool, to see this shaping up.  I feel as though I’m watching the dust from the “big bang” of my recovery settling into something that has definition, shape, and substance to it.  If I must engage in this kind of constant planning and assessment, I’m OK with this!

I AM noticing one big challenge with all of this tweaking:   that of remaining fully honest when visiting and revisiting this list.  I think it just naturally comes with the territory.  Just as reviewing and honing this list has enabled me to find a delightful food plan that has worked extraordinarily well over the last couple of months — I love my food, I’m learning that the same process of exploration has led to some dead ends and wrong turns.  I find that I have to constantly ask myself if an item I wish to add is truly a food that should be part of my plan, even if only my “treat nights only” plan, right now.  Sure, there’s one quick way to find out the answer — add the item and then sit back and watch what happens.  Funny how it doesn’t take long for trouble to surface if that item is not fit to be on the list right now!  But who wants to go through that every time?  At the same time, I have to guard against being too cautious, too restrictive, as I’ve noticed that when I limit my options too much, there’s that sense of never being fully satiated.  When that happens, it’s possible that it’s not so much the food choices themselves, it’s that I’m not in the best state of mind — that is, I’m not operating with a mindset that says, let’s explore all the wonderful tastes, recipes and combinations provided by what’s on this list.  Or it’s possible that I’m narrowing my range so much that I end up doing more damage in noshing on a bunch of semi-satiating items, when to simply allow a little more leniency would have enabled me to have “the” item and be done with it.

Bottom line is, it’s a constant dance!  I’m hopeful that as time goes on, I’ll continue to master the steps. 

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12-step Milestone and Other Updates

Wow, once again, I’m stunned at the amount of time that has lapsed since my last post.  For those of you who blog, have you ever looked back and read a previous post and almost don’t recognize your own words?  I’m feeling that way.  Pretty amazing when I think of all that has taken place since last September.  How do I even begin to update?

So I won’t try to cover it all, but I do want to review and look ahead.  First of all, I’m happy to acknowledge that I crossed my one-year milestone with my 12-step fellowship.  That happened about 2 months ago, and I couldn’t be happier about it.  The growth I have experienced this past year is head-spinning.  I’m much less selfish, yet I’m more diligent about self-care (my latest being long, refreshing showers, using lovely, fragrant, hand-milled soaps).  I get far less overwhelmed, instead have learned to simply perform the next indicated action.  I’m less fearful, largely because I now check it out, i.e. when I’m feeling a fear, ask myself, just what is it that I’m afraid of?  And then?  And what does that mean?  Those kind of extended questions.  And 9 times out of 10, I realize the fear is illusional.  And for those times I actually declare the fear to be justified, I allow myself to feel it, then do whatever it is I need to do anyway.  I feel my emotions more.  This has been both a freeing yet challenging development for me.  I’m now connecting with the emotions I used to eat to stifle, yet of course now this means I’m often navigating a roller coaster throughout the day.  I’m learning how to deal with this more constructively.  I enjoy better relations with my husband, friends and family.  I’m setting more boundaries — lovingly — for myself for those aspects of my family dynamic that are potentially hurtful to me, while at the same time more fully appreciating all the gifts my family has given and continues to give to me.  I’m far more effective in my work, have come a long way in devoting myself to being of service and to make others’ lives better as a result of my actions.  My self-esteem is soaring, I’m keeping a much tidier and orderly house, and I’m connecting far more to my spirituality, in a way that’s meaningful to me.  And it goes on and on.

The one element that remains is the original element, and that’s my Achilles heel, my eating.  It has, unquestionably, improved dramatically.  To compare how I ate six months ago, a year ago, 2 years ago, etc…..I won’t say there’s no comparison, because it was already quite good in many respects.  But it has still improved.  Compulsive eating has gone down; whatever I eat, the majority of the time it’s been planned.  And the kinds of foods I eat have changed; whereas at one time I “needed” to include certain treat foods on a fairly regular basis — almost never eating them within an amount I would have preferred, the frequency keeps going down, and in recent times, has been so seldom that the few occasions I’ve chosen to eat these particular foods, I have found myself woefully disappointed.  They just don’t have the allure/thrill they used to possess for me.  Which actually has irritated me on some level.  I’m looking for a Big Bang with them, and when I’m not getting it, I end up eating more in an attempt to make it happen.  You know how successful THAT has been.  Not.

But the most startling development of all came very recently.  I mentioned that compulsive eating had gone down, but it — specifically bingeing — has not been abolished completely.  I have recently drawn the conclusion that no matter HOW much I heal, grow or resolve in these other areas of my life, I will be left with this urge, this vulnerability.  Maybe some people find they just naturally lose the inclination, but that hasn’t been my experience.  With as much positive change that has taken place in me over this last year, I can only assume that the only way for me to be free of the binge behavior is to make the deliberate decision to not do it.  I have to accept that there will be discomfort involved, and though I can hope that the discomfort and cravings will subside over time, it’s possible it won’t diminish as much as I’d like.  Basically, I’m accepting that the only “thing” that’s going to keep me eating sanely and my body at my optimal weight over the long haul…..is me.  Everything else has been taken care of, at least within reason (obviously there is always additional growth, personal evolution, healing….but whatever it is that might have been part  of the fuel behind my ED, I believe is more or less resolved).  All that’s left is the final step.

Mind you, it’s taken me a while to reach the willingness to acknowledge this possibility, let alone accept it.  As with all tough hurdles, merely knowing what you need to do isn’t enough; you have to really want the benefits of taking that action — which includes dealing with the pain/difficulty of making that change, more than the “benefits” of staying put.  I’ve been steadily trying out various ways to put this awareness into motion, but seemed a bit stalled out at a certain plateau.  Until recently.  What happened is something I can’t explain and is now helping me see how it’s possible that so many speakers (I listen to 12 step speakers via podcasts tell their stories of recovery) speak of this seemingly mysterious, almost overnight, leap into willingness.

What happened is, my switch appears broken.  If anyone here is either bulimic or a compusive overeater, you know the switch I’m talking about.  The switch that gets flipped when you’ve decided to open the flood gates and let yourself splurge away.  I think one of the reasons I had been able to (mostly) let go of certain foods in recent times, is because even with less “glamorous” choices (I know you’re probably wondering what, so okay, like, apples with peanut butter spread on them, or high-fiber breakfast cereals, or protein bars, or whole grain pancake mix, etc.), I could still escape into the occasional binge to let off steam — to flip the switch and zone out, then deal with (hopefully) a less severe aftermath than the days my binges were on “big ticket” items such as cake, cookies, etc.   To be honest, I’m not convinced there’s much difference between the two “species” of binges, at least in terms of after-effect.  It’s bad regardless of what kinds of foods I ate, though maybe it’s been too long since the days of day-long junk food sprees to truly remember how bad it can be.

Anyway, so I’d watched myself make all these distinct and exciting changes from within, and while these eating episodes remained the stubborn holdout, I did still see differences there, too, INCLUDING the willingness to make the above substitutions.  Not wanting to oversell it, I still deemed it progress.  Hey, we all want to be rid of the behavior right away, but I’m now appreciating how it often happens on a time frame quite different from the one I may have envisioned.  I can’t help but muse about the possibility that the willingness to start setting boundaries even within what I choose to binge on….was the start of my mind’s process of teasing the behavior from my grip (or vice versa?).  But still, I can’t deny I continued to struggle, and far too often.

Again, until recently, when I had quite the shot in the arm:  I couldn’t flip the switch!!!  We had gone out to dinner with some friends, and although it went well, I pretty much knew even beforehand that I’d likely be using the evening as an excuse to splurge — both during but especially after the visit, once my husband and I were back at home.  I knew I was rationalizing but I didn’t care.  And as expected, we went to the store on the way home, picked up some treats, and came home.  The weather was great, the music that was playing on the radio made for a nice ambience, the visit had gone well….the stage was set for the “perfect” kick-up-the-heels-and-relax-and-eat-eat-eat Saturday night.  How many of these have I experienced over the years.

Yet, much to my chagrin, for the first time that I can remember…..DAMN it, my mind wouldn’t make the switch!  It was awful; rather than zone out, ignoring the number of calories I must be taking in with every passing second, I remained fully cognizant, unable to lose myself in whatever TV show we’d tuned into and fully aware of what I’d be feeling just one hour later, never mind the uncomfortable sleep and awful aftermath I’d have to deal with the next day.  Nothing I tried help me to cross that invisible line.  Of course it didn’t; up until now, this crossover had happened automatically, no conscious effort, just part of the whole binge cycle.  WTF???

That was several weeks ago; I’ve had another eating episode or two since, and with the same experience — no ability to flip the switch.  And those subsequent eating episodes weren’t even with “exciting” foods, just large servings of the foods that are already part of my food plan.  Talk about a pointless endeavor!  So great.  I get to experience the physical distress, the frantic scrambling to snap back to clean eating and keep my weight down in spite of the calorie spike…but I miss out on the very “escape” I’m seeking by putting excess food in my body in the first place.  If that isn’t the very picture of “Done,” I don’t know what is.  It’s time to face the scary yet exciting reality:  Relief doesn’t live “here” anymore.

So….I’m on a slightly different path since this has all come about.  I won’t elaborate on the details — they’re very personal and everything is still too early/tentative to know what’s going to stick and I don’t want to jinx this undertaking by making too specific a declaration, anyway.  But suffice it to say, this is brand-new territory for me, yet another fork in the road that is coming on the heels of so many other (wonderful) forks before it.

So what’s my point in even logging this?  Well partly for my own record.  I want to be able to look back and remember this turning point, as no matter what it’s an interesting development regardless of what happens from here.  But secondly, it’s my hope that those of you who might be struggling, can see that indeed, over time, change can and does happen.  I’m here to tell you, it takes a lot of hard work and it’s sometimes so slow, its almost imperceptable, and it’s scary and frustrating at times because it doesn’t follow your mind’s blueprints and because you don’t know the outcome.  But I hope this little account and update helps illuminate that these little milestones of progress add up!

We shall see.  Or as the saying goes, more shall be revealed.

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Looking back at myself via past posts: Good? Bad? Excessive?

It occurred to me, as I wrote my latest post yesterday, what a different person I am today than a few months ago, or six months ago, a year ago, etc.  In some ways, I think my eating disorder — or more accurately, the person I was when I let myself live in that state of escapism/immaturity, in which the ED was more a symptom/vehicle than the core problem — slowed down my growth and development as a person so much, that these last several years have been a sort of “accelerated growth/change” time for me, in which I seem to be catching up at almost an alarming pace.  Truthfully, sometimes TOO alarming, where even that creates a panic that can send me back to the ED.  But my hope is that it’s all casting enough of a light on what Life (capital L) is like when it’s lived fully, what it can be like if I allow it/me to reach its/my full potential, that even when I slip I still retain enough awareness to now know what I’m shooting for.  I don’t ever want to go back.  These last seductive elements of the ED can be SO difficult to release; I suspect that when I can somehow mentally associate them with those elements that I have so eagerly let go of….an era in which I was living so differently, so small….I will have a much easier time casting those remnants off for good as well.

But I digress, the point of this post is to muse about how different I must seem now vs. when I began this blog, and everywhere in between.  I guess that’s inevitable — and quite possibly, the whole point.  I mean, why start a blog that’s centered around healing, self-improvement, etc. if you’re not doing it in part to help accomplish that goal, which by extension means basically you’re to evolve into a different person?

But still, I wonder.  I wonder what kind of impression people must form of me if they should stumble onto this blog and read a post of mine from a long time ago.  Note I said “wonder” and not “worry”; it’s not a concern of mine what they think, but it’s so interesting to realize that the impression they might form may not be accurate, at least not any more.  Just a weird and interesting feeling, knowing that I now have this sort of metamorphosing ink blot record of where I was prior to now.

I actually have yet to look back at old posts.  I’m not sure there’s much value in doing so for me.  Oh don’t get me wrong, I know it’s important to remember where I’ve come from, to help ensure I don’t go back to those unpleasant parts, but part of me feels like most of that is intuitive; do I really need to read it in detail to have a good sense of where I am today relative to how things were?  I don’t have a definitive answer, just musing.

But now the siren call of chores is trumping it all, so away I go….

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