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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Praying to a Higher Power — I’m feeling it!

My previous post proposed that there’s some je-ne-sais-quoi “magic” involved with taking action.  I wouldn’t have believed such a claim if I hadn’t experienced it first-hand, and now I’m gaining some similar insight to the fruitfulness of praying to my Higher Power.  It don’t know what it is, though I love musing about possible explanations (more on that in a minute), but there truly seems to be something powerful at work when I genuinely ask for help from my HP, whether it’s clarification for my HP’s will and my ability to carry it out or something less lofty, like please help me do a phenomenal job at work today, but I tell you, it does seem to make a difference.

I can feel the skepicism even as I type this — and some of that is from me, even!  So here’s one of my current explanations as to why the above is TRUE and what may be behind it.  My current understanding of a Higher Power is one that is both outside of me AND inside of me.  I believe that when I make choices and take actions that are loving — to myself and to others, that that’s the HP inside of me steering those actions.  I believe this is something we each have, and that it’s all part of the “bigger picture” HP.  So when we witness those acts of incredible kindness, the kind that restore our faith in humanity, to me that’s HP in action, including the HP that’s inside that person.

So here’s my current thought:  If I’m asking for something that’s “bigger than me” — such as, “Please help this situation to unfold in the way that’s best for all parties,” to me that’s an appeal to the “bigger picture” HP, the one that controls the flow of the river, and my goal is to then watch for signs of guidance, and the way I’m supposed to behave to help that process unfold.  So it does “work,” but the outcome may look very different from what my mind may have conjured up, and I still have to do my part in taking the next indicated actions — and be willing to let go of the results.  But if I’m asking for help in a way that involves my own behavior — “Help me to use my tools and follow my plan of eating today,” I believe that prayer is “heard” on some level by the HP inside of me, and that it’s so subconscious, that once I let go of the prayer, I don’t even realize all the subtle little changes that are going in internally to help ensure I do indeed follow through as planned.

Meaningless musings, no doubt, but whatever is going on, I’m satisfied that something is happening that is outside of the coincidental.  That’s good enough for me!

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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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Letting go of TV: The relief this is bringing

Right off the bat I need to clarify that I have not completely stopped watching TV.  But in recent months especially, I have finally made good on my desire to drastically cut down on my TV watching, and hope to keep this trend going.  TV, like excess food eaten compulsively, stopped “working” a long time ago, and in itself became this bizarre “no, that’s not quite it, <switch the channel>…no, that’s not it, either, <click>….etc.” addiction.  You know that image of the rat persisting in pushing the button to get the pellet, even though the pellet no longer comes out regularly, only once in a great, great, great while?  That’s pretty much the point I’d reached with TV.  I don’t know if the programming that’s on has shifted enough so that there’s just not a whole lot of options that interest me….or if it’s that I have changed enough that my mind just can’t get “sucked” into that “zone” when watching (maybe a little of both?), but I sometimes think my ED and TV habits fueled each other in a peculiar way, especially as both stopped working for me.  It’s like I’d get so frustrated that I couldn’t find anything to watch while eating (the two for me went hand in hand), that I would eat more…..and the more I found that excess food, even what I would call those “big ticket item” foods, didn’t succeed in putting me in that “zone,” the more I kept reverting back to the same stupid reruns or movies that I once found extremely gratifying to watch.  It was a horrible habit cycle to be caught up in, especially since I stopped being able to experience that temporary satiety I was so desperately seeking.

So a few months ago I finally said “Enough!” with TV.  Watching TV during the day has not even been a temptation for years — too busy with work — so no issues there.  But where I’m vulnerable is in preparing my evening meal, watching TV while eating dinner, and then keeping that drone of the TV on as “background amusement” for the rest of the evening.  I remain eternally grateful that we agreed to not have a TV in the bedroom, so thank God once we’re in bed there’s full sanctuary from TV there.  But those evening hours were a problem, for many reasons.

Initially, I simply unplugged the kitchen TV and set it down on the floor.  Easy enough.  I then brought a portable radio/CD player in the kitchen, and used it for mealtime (I still like to have some music or talking at that time, at least most of the time).  If I found a good podcast, I’d pull my computer into the kitchen and listen to that during the meal prep and dinner.  I also began to try timing dinner so that both my husband and I could at least spend part of that time together.  Our work schedules, unfortunately, often leave us having to eat separately, so rearranging things so that at least 3-4 times a week we have that dinner time together has certainly helped.  Amazing how enjoyable it is when you can actually talk to someone during the meal — DUH!

The change in me just from this one action has been profound.  I think the landscape of TV has a more powerful influence on my thinking than I like to admit.  I mean, I’ve always been only too aware of the bombardment of images that create a “beauty ideal” against which I can’t possibly compete (because they’re not real, in the sense that these images are created with the help of lighting, makeup artists, hours spent on hair, post-production magic, etc.).  And as you can probably sense just from the tone of my description, I’ve also been extremely vocal about it.  I think my favorite is when you watch a TV commercial for some outlandishly rich food, and you have a woman who looks like a runway model, popping the item into her mouth with this carefree smile, followed by a facial expression typically only produced, say, when you’re receiving a delightful neck rub.  So NOT reality, and yet there must be some part of me that absorbs that message and uses it as a weapon against my better judgment!  But I think there are many other, more insidious, effects from watching TV.  I don’t even know where to start with them, partly because I think there are so many, partly because I probably can’t fully comprehand them all.  All I know is, without TV, I swear it’s like I can feel my mind “breathing,” as though somehow having TV is like having to breathe in a smoke-filled room.  You can do it, and maybe from time to time you get a reprieve by stepping outside or sticking your head out the window (and even then you’re still stuck with the particulates in your lungs from breathing in that smoke), but there’s this sutle suppression, even suffocation that keeps you from really feeling the health of a full breath.  Yet if you get out of town and spend a week outside in fresh air, you feel your breath just opening up, and even the air looks clearer.  This is my best description of how I feel without TV.

Now, I’m still working on striking a balance.  From time to time, I have gone ahead and “tested the waters” — turned on a favorite TV show (typically one that’s been recorded) and let it play during dinner, especially on days when I get home quite late and feel that need for “brain candy decompression.”  But most of the time, I end up turning it off halfway through, as it’s just not doing the trick at all.  I think the more I stay on this path, the more I will move from even needing to think about turning to TV — if that’s what I want (right now it is).

As for after dinner, I don’t really watch TV anymore, but I can’t impose this on my husband, who still enjoys a few select shows and the occasional Netflix instant download.  So for the most part, I simply turn my attention to something else while TV is on.  I do sometimes ask him if he wouldn’t mind our not having TV on at all, and he’s been extremely gracious in obliging me when I ask.  If he really did want to watch something, of course I would let it go, but I think much of the post-dinner TV is just another habit, which is why he has no problem turning it off.  And truth be told, sometimes it’s nice to pop in a favorite DVD and let it play while we work on our evening activities.  There are a couple of travelogues that we both love, and have seen so many times we could lip-synch the presenter’s commentaries, but for some reason, we still enjoy having them on.  I’m not worrying about that — this is an experiment to improve the quality of our lives, not to get a “perfect report card” for “no TV watching”!

I hope to keep going with this.  Knowing how furiously addicted I was to “those same shows and movies” for so long, it’s required some creativity to find other outlets, more gratifying outlets, to take the place of TV.  But I think I can continue to build on this.  The thing that’s helping me is realizing that these reruns are the past.  The past is done.  If I want to continue to move forward with my life, to become whoever it is I’m becoming, I have to let go of the past, which includes clinging to the same shows that have long since expired for me.  I have to trust that I will continue to find new sources of amusement, and that they are not likely to be TV but something else.  It’s actually exciting, like a whole new adventure of discovery!

And best of all, no crummy commercials to have to fast-forward through!

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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 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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