So it's 350am and I have one of my more atypical cases of insomnia. It's something that's been going on a bit lately. Ugh! So I'm sitting here trying to unwind and I've been listening to the same song on repeat on my iPod for quite awhile. Do you ever do that? Find a song that just hits the spot better than getting to scratch you back when it itches like crazy? That's where I find myself rather frequently. Lifted up by music. Currently it is the ROCK GOD Chris Cornell's cover of Led Zeppelin's "Thank You"...an iconic song in its own right. But when sung by a guy whose voice sort of caps up the Seattle scene and the early 90's so well...it is JUST.PLAIN.PERFECTION. And it makes me realize how great music is in just that way.
I could probably make a timeline of events in my life and attach a song to each and every major thing that's happened to me. My mother and father in their infinite wisdom had possibly the only console stereo in Sacramento with an 8 track in it. My brother still to this day denies my mother's remembrance of him hanging off of it as a toddler listening to John Denver singing "Rocky Mountain High." We had a Christmas record that was made by my mother's high school choir from a tiny town in southern Minnesota, that we haven't listened to since she passed away. I remember getting my own stereo with a record player and double tape deck, at which time my "mixed tape" phase began in what can only be described as painful earnest. Going to Tower Records to find music, getting a new record as soon as humanly possible after it was release. Singing my favorite song with a car full of friends. CD's came along and I certainly amassed an impressive collection. (I could probably finance the government of a small African country on what I've spent on music in my lifetime). I remember the album I was listening to when I took the first of many day road trips to Sonoma and Bodega Bay, truly enjoying just meandering along the gorgeous roads of Nor. Cal. And on, and on, and on.....
I'm sure like most people who are getting on in years, I question the cultural relevance of popular music. "It's just not as good as the stuff I listened to when I was younger" seems to be the war cry of the quickly aging. But let me just say this, Pearl Jam's song "Jeremy" speaks as much about bullying and gun violence NOW as it did when that video first came out. Will we be saying the same about Lady Gaga? I'm not so sure.
There are times when I want some chill acoustic music. There are times when piano stuff is nice too. There are the rather frequent times that I get into the car after my dad has driven it and find the channel set to the classical station and listen to it for awhile trying to enjoy it. If I feel particularly aggressive, angry or grumpy I will go for my "Angry White Man" music, with lots of drum, base, and yelling. There's something about that sort of music that's empowering to me; a sort of war cry to the world that the people next to me at stoplights CLEARLY don't understand...
In the entirely INSTANT world we live in these days, I have mixed emotions about the digital music age. I certainly enjoy the speed with which music is available to our ravenous consumer society. But I also find it a bit sad, that I don't come home and find my proud library of music displayed so lovingly on a bookshelf or CD rack. But then again, it's a lot easier to put an iPod or iPhone into my purse and take it along with me. For me, it's certainly true that music soothes this sometimes savage beast.
I was a music major in college for 2 years focusing on vocal performance. I truly love to sing and find myself sometimes amazed how many songs I can sing along to in the car when driving around doing my typical daily deeds. I changed majors because the technical side of music is a lot more challenging than riffing along with a Matisyahu song on the way to the grocery store. When I see someone playing piano or guitar with ease and skill...I'm truly impressed and even a bit jealous. Reading sheet music never came that easy to me. It is truly a gift that I'm always glad they shared.
The first time I ever sang in public by myself I sang the Ave Maria in front of 500 people during a wedding. Coming from a choral experience before that, I can only be glad that there was holy water nearby during my baptism by fire. It was a terrifying, great, nerve racking experience. But it was fabulous none the less. I learned a lot about facing your fears and opening your mouth and just letting it rip.
So wherever you are in your day, is there music in it? When's the last time you listened to the album that you just couldn't get enough of in high school? Here's hoping that you are singing your favorite song, loud and proud.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
"Well NOW what do I DO?????"
It's been awhile since I've posted on this here blog, and I think the only way to adequately explain the absence is honesty. I got attacked by apathy and some depression and am now just feeling like the fog is lifting. And all I really want to say additionally about that is I'm grateful. Extremely, massively, grateful and relieved that I no longer feel like I'm knee deep in quick sand trying to run a marathon. There are fewer things more frustrating for me at least, that knowing what you SHOULD be doing, and not being able to trigger the action within yourself. I emphasized the SHOULD because I definitely have a tendency of 'SHOULD-ing" all over myself. Getting stuck into how I think my time should be spent which tends to be based on how I want to appear to the outside world. (CODE FOR: Appearing to have my proverbial s$*t together a lot more that I actually do). And I also judge myself a great deal for how I think my life should be, rather than how it truly is. It's this simultaneous ability to hold my self to potentially unreachable standards and then also let myself off the hook for things that are attainable. A viscous cycle to be sure. If you've ever been on this ferris wheel of neuroses and frustration, HOLLA!
So I'd been riding said ferris wheel and began to retract into my turtle shell a bit. I have to admit, for someone who battles isolation at times, social media is an absolute mixed bag. It unfortunately gives the illusion of being emotionally connected with people while not actually having to put the effort forth of showing up face to face. For people with legitimate reasons for not leaving the house; caretakers of loved ones and agoraphobics and the like, it can be a very useful tool. For someone like me though, it can turn into a situation where I feel artificially connected with people because I know you went to Chicago Fire for dinner with your family last Thursday, while not having to show up face to face and be honest, vulnerable and accountable to people who genuinely have my best interests at heart. Also known as the slippery slope ending in a drop off a cliff.
Therefore, while my father and housemate is embarking on his 11 day, 3 state, social whirlwind vacation and I'm home keeping the puppies from hanging off the chandeliers, I recognized the potential for this to be either a great opportunity for me to do things differently or it could be a complete nightmare. Thankfully for right now at least I am choosing the former. Again, queue gratitude.
I may have mentioned previously that I've realized just how much I have previously allowed my weight and the corresponding consequences color the world I live in. More than just that, it's come to define the way I've learned to think about myself. And it's so ingrained in my subconscious that I forget sometimes that it is truly a choice to think of myself in the often negative light that my being overweight puts me in. I was chatting with someone on Facebook the other day and explaining this, and just sort of justifying my stuck-ness and she countered with her view of me that was so awesome I thought, "Hell I want to know THAT woman!!!". It was so interesting because for as benign a conversation as it was, it made me realize that we rarely see ourselves the way that we really are. And that can certainly happen in the context of positive AND negative parts of ourselves. And for perhaps the first time, when someone presented me with a view of myself that was complimentary, my internal "committee" didn't respond with, "Well they're just saying that because they love me", or, "thanks but here are the infinite reasons I'm not that person...". The internal thought was, "Yeah, I COULD be that Person, I WANT to be that person, and am on my way." It felt like a watershed moment.
Having one thing that has completely high jacked my self-image (my weight and it's corresponding laundry lists of reason's I'm therefore not good enough for _________[fill in the blank] is like being nearsighted. When I wake up in the morning I don't even get out of bed without putting my glasses on because I really can't see without them. It completely dominates the way I view the world. And so has this, up until now.
I say up until now, because I found myself talking to my therapist recently (well, okay it was this afternoon) and I was sort of processing this idea, and he said, "You've let your weight and the baggage the comes along with it (which for me is the joint problems that will require 3 joint replacements once I'm at a suitably healthy weight) to be the reason, excuse and cop out for not doing a lot in your life." I certainly couldn't argue with that, but have always felt more than a bit justified in saying that my joint stuff is a "LEGITIMATE" reason why I don't do some things. And as all wonderful therapists will do, he called bullshit. In retrospect it gets me thinking of the stories you hear about people who have major injuries doing things like climbing Mt. Everest, biking across Europe, or other just ridiculously amazing things while people with far fewer challenges are sitting at home bitching about having to pay taxes on their fancy sports car and vacation properties. And he said, "What if you made a decision to draw a line in the sand, or in my case, the quick sand, and from this day forward NEVER let your weight and the other stuff stop you from finding whatever it is that you want, be it a romantic relationship that you enjoy, travel, a career your passionate about, activity and a wonderfully vibrant full life.
I immediately in my head began to consider why I couldn't do that. And it's based upon my previous track record of for lack of a better word, just not thinking I was good enough to; complete goals, risk being hurt/disappointed without it crushing me, and when it comes right down to it very simply FEAR. If you don't risk, you don't fail. But then again what I'm realizing is that you never succeed either. In reflection I realize I've let fear drive my life right down apathy alley, depression drive and shitty self-esteem street. And I think I might be done. And through some of the work I've been doing in the past year I've grasped the nugget of faith that says, where fear was driving me is no longer good enough. I deserve better. (Big dramatic gulp.....Eek!) But I have to say that out loud because if I don't, it will marinate in my head and I can so easily talk myself out of a really good idea. Why I didn't let that little voice of fear and caution talk me out of that perm in the early '80's is beyond me, but that's another story. ;-)
So that leads me back to the title of this post, "Now what do I do???" And the wonderfully open, hopeful, amazing, and occasionally scary answer to that question is, whatever I want. And I'm so glad to know that as long as I have so many wonderful people in my life to travel the journey with me, I will get there. I feel like the journey is about to pick up speed and I'm excited....
I'll keep you posted. Thanks for reading.
So I'd been riding said ferris wheel and began to retract into my turtle shell a bit. I have to admit, for someone who battles isolation at times, social media is an absolute mixed bag. It unfortunately gives the illusion of being emotionally connected with people while not actually having to put the effort forth of showing up face to face. For people with legitimate reasons for not leaving the house; caretakers of loved ones and agoraphobics and the like, it can be a very useful tool. For someone like me though, it can turn into a situation where I feel artificially connected with people because I know you went to Chicago Fire for dinner with your family last Thursday, while not having to show up face to face and be honest, vulnerable and accountable to people who genuinely have my best interests at heart. Also known as the slippery slope ending in a drop off a cliff.
Therefore, while my father and housemate is embarking on his 11 day, 3 state, social whirlwind vacation and I'm home keeping the puppies from hanging off the chandeliers, I recognized the potential for this to be either a great opportunity for me to do things differently or it could be a complete nightmare. Thankfully for right now at least I am choosing the former. Again, queue gratitude.
I may have mentioned previously that I've realized just how much I have previously allowed my weight and the corresponding consequences color the world I live in. More than just that, it's come to define the way I've learned to think about myself. And it's so ingrained in my subconscious that I forget sometimes that it is truly a choice to think of myself in the often negative light that my being overweight puts me in. I was chatting with someone on Facebook the other day and explaining this, and just sort of justifying my stuck-ness and she countered with her view of me that was so awesome I thought, "Hell I want to know THAT woman!!!". It was so interesting because for as benign a conversation as it was, it made me realize that we rarely see ourselves the way that we really are. And that can certainly happen in the context of positive AND negative parts of ourselves. And for perhaps the first time, when someone presented me with a view of myself that was complimentary, my internal "committee" didn't respond with, "Well they're just saying that because they love me", or, "thanks but here are the infinite reasons I'm not that person...". The internal thought was, "Yeah, I COULD be that Person, I WANT to be that person, and am on my way." It felt like a watershed moment.
Having one thing that has completely high jacked my self-image (my weight and it's corresponding laundry lists of reason's I'm therefore not good enough for _________[fill in the blank] is like being nearsighted. When I wake up in the morning I don't even get out of bed without putting my glasses on because I really can't see without them. It completely dominates the way I view the world. And so has this, up until now.
I say up until now, because I found myself talking to my therapist recently (well, okay it was this afternoon) and I was sort of processing this idea, and he said, "You've let your weight and the baggage the comes along with it (which for me is the joint problems that will require 3 joint replacements once I'm at a suitably healthy weight) to be the reason, excuse and cop out for not doing a lot in your life." I certainly couldn't argue with that, but have always felt more than a bit justified in saying that my joint stuff is a "LEGITIMATE" reason why I don't do some things. And as all wonderful therapists will do, he called bullshit. In retrospect it gets me thinking of the stories you hear about people who have major injuries doing things like climbing Mt. Everest, biking across Europe, or other just ridiculously amazing things while people with far fewer challenges are sitting at home bitching about having to pay taxes on their fancy sports car and vacation properties. And he said, "What if you made a decision to draw a line in the sand, or in my case, the quick sand, and from this day forward NEVER let your weight and the other stuff stop you from finding whatever it is that you want, be it a romantic relationship that you enjoy, travel, a career your passionate about, activity and a wonderfully vibrant full life.
I immediately in my head began to consider why I couldn't do that. And it's based upon my previous track record of for lack of a better word, just not thinking I was good enough to; complete goals, risk being hurt/disappointed without it crushing me, and when it comes right down to it very simply FEAR. If you don't risk, you don't fail. But then again what I'm realizing is that you never succeed either. In reflection I realize I've let fear drive my life right down apathy alley, depression drive and shitty self-esteem street. And I think I might be done. And through some of the work I've been doing in the past year I've grasped the nugget of faith that says, where fear was driving me is no longer good enough. I deserve better. (Big dramatic gulp.....Eek!) But I have to say that out loud because if I don't, it will marinate in my head and I can so easily talk myself out of a really good idea. Why I didn't let that little voice of fear and caution talk me out of that perm in the early '80's is beyond me, but that's another story. ;-)
So that leads me back to the title of this post, "Now what do I do???" And the wonderfully open, hopeful, amazing, and occasionally scary answer to that question is, whatever I want. And I'm so glad to know that as long as I have so many wonderful people in my life to travel the journey with me, I will get there. I feel like the journey is about to pick up speed and I'm excited....
I'll keep you posted. Thanks for reading.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
A Head Case Playing Mind Games.....
It's been awhile since I've posted an update. I sort of felt like after doing the catch up stories of my past history of being an obese person in society I was left with the proverbial, "Now what?". But since then, things have been happening for me. Good things, and challenging things. So this will be sort of a catch all catch up post to clue you in to where I am in my journey to getting healthier and moving on with my great but potentially more fabulous life.
We'll start with the challenging things. Like many people who are trying to change long ingrained behaviors, I've had periods where the healthier behaviors are easy to practice, and times when it's much harder. I've recently had a period where it was harder. I started making choices around food that were "easier" (i.e.: poorer choices). That meant more convenience foods which inevitably led me to start eating foods that were more processed and less healthy for me and DEFINITELY detrimental towards my long term health goals. And because I'm not sure I've done it before, I am going to put my health goal out into the cyber world in specific measurable terms. In talking with my therapist he stated that a Goal is just a dream with a deadline. And to that effect, I have set the goal that I will be ready to start having joint replacement surgery by October 1, 2013. And in pure mathematical terms that means I have to lose 114lbs by October 1, 2013. I don't put that out into the universe a great deal because even saying it out loud let alone putting in writing somehow feels quite daunting. I need to have both of my knees and my left hip replaced due to an auto-immune inflammatory condition that's like Rheumatoid Arthritis. I feel like someone who has climbed up a mountain with ski's strapped to my backpack and have made it to the top (losing 100lbs so far) only to have to make the leap of faith and strap my skis on and go flying down the mountain. So while putting specific time lines and end dates onto something like this is good because it makes things more concrete, it also makes it rather REAL. I don't know about you but if you've ever had a substantial weight problem, getting to a goal like this could be come something without boarders and definitions and enables you to spend your whole life focusing on this one thing which closes off a whole myriad of other life experiences that are available. The potential downside however is that it can be a gigantic set up for feeling like a complete failure. When discussing this idea with my therapist I was careful to clarify that the point of this goal is not to get 95% of the way there and then on October 1st say, "Well I didn't make it I guess that makes me a total fuck up!" Hardly. What I endeavor for it to do is hopefully keep me focused on seeing each day as an opportunity to not at all deny myself food (how I might see it in my mind) but to move closer to this wonderful goal of getting to have a fully functioning pain free body. That would be a body I haven't known since 1994, when I was in college and my left hip was deteriorating and I was in an incredible amount of pain. I realize that I have spent a great amount of my life before this particular journey in black and white thinking. If I don't look like Jennifer Connelly I don't want to try at all. If I can't win I don't want to play sort of things. If I eat 2 oz more chicken at dinner, screw it, I'm going to eat an entire cheesecake. So by choosing this date, and making my HEALTH a priority as opposed to trying to look hot in a pair of blue jeans, I'm trying to change my thinking. I'm trying to change and realize that my food choices can be placed into two categories: Does what I'm about to eat get me a) closer to, or b) farther from, the life I want to be living for myself? Rather than making foods good or bad, this seems like a much more helpful perspective for me to have.
So a few weeks ago I found my self making choices about food from the above option "b". I was sitting in a gas station parking lot having just gone into the quick mart and purchased some food that has longer than normal shelf lives, i.e., processed junk food. And I hadn't called my sponsor in awhile which I think contributed to where I found myself. I found myself simultaneously knowing that I probably shouldn't be about to eat what I'd purchased and yet completely driven to do so. (If you've EVER struggled with addiction, you might understand that feeling). So I called my sponsor on the phone, in that parking lot, and we had a very interesting conversation. She helped me understand why eating what I'd purchased could be deadly for me in the long term. Like an alcoholic, I may very well be able to have a drink that doesn't lead to a full blown relapse, but it's playing a dangerous game of Russian Roulette, I don't know that it WON'T lead to a relapse either. But the most amazing thing she said during all her support and encouragement for me to NOT eat what I'd bought was this, "Whether you eat this food or not, I love you anyway." And for some reason THAT statement stuck in my mind and had a transformative effect. While I did ended up eating the food that I'd purchased, the desire to stay in the pattern that I had been in for about a month, was no longer there. This conversation that I had occurred on a Saturday, and Sunday morning I woke up and began a great deal of contrary actions that have enabled me to make progress towards the goal of having a life that I want.
BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY, what I realized is that, just like it says in the Big Book of AA, you really can't think your way into right acting, you have to act your way into right thinking. And it's so true. And like a lot of things, I sometimes wish it didn't take quite as long for me to learn the lessons that I need to learn in my life. But I guess that's like wishing I wasn't a brunette, or Irish; wishing it won't make it true. And so I just tried to remained focused on being grateful for the willingness AND ability to do the footwork for the 24 hours ahead of me. For someone who needs to still lose 100lbs after having already done so, doing the whole, "One Day at a Time" thing sometimes feels like the hardest thing I've got to do in a day. I realized also that the physical weight on my body isn't the worst effect of choosing foods that don't serve me. It's the mental baggage that comes along with it. Normal eaters don't beat themselves up for days on end for making a mediocre or bad food choice. The self-hatred, apathy, self-pity and mental paralysis that comes along with me eating foods that don't agree with me, has become way more of a problem than gaining 15lbs. Those are the mind games that are so dangerous in dealing with food issues in my life. It's the head games that will get me.
So I now find myself endeavoring to live life one day at a time, as imperfectly as it inevitably happens in the real world, and enjoying my life a great deal more than I was a month ago. That does not mean it's going the way I'd prefer it to. And changing the way I'm trying to approach my day to day relationship with food, health and the process of getting qualified to surgery, I'm finding some of my long lost natural optimism. And for me "focusing on the goal" within the context of working a Twelve Step program just means asking for the help of my Higher Power for the ability to make the best possible choices in the 24 hour period I'm in today. Knowing that eating certain foods makes it harder for me to be an increasingly joyful member of the world at large.
And now for the good things. Because I'm on permanent disability due to my joint problems, I found myself with a great deal of time off during the day. It led me to spending a great deal of time awake late at night and sleeping a lot during the day and not liking myself in the process. And as I began to get more activity in my daily life I decided that I needed something to give me a sense of purpose and being of service to ANYTHING. So after some thought I decided to start volunteering at the Sacramento SPCA. This is a great organization that works for the health and welfare of the animals who are homeless and neglected in Sacramento County. They receive no government funding and do an incredible amount of work with limited resources. So for now I'm working 8 hours a week helping to get appointments set in their high volume Spay and Neuter clinic. It's made my life fuller and I'm much happier getting out and doing something. If you'd like to check out the great work that they're doing at the SPCA, check out the Sacramento chapter's website, www.sspca.org.
The other thing that I've done is to join a new group that is dedicated to helping end the obsession with food and weight. It's called Beyond Hunger. I found out about it from a wonderful friend of mine, (You know who you are <3 ) and I investigated it because she seems to have acquired a genuine comfort in her own skin, that has nothing to do with outside appearances, don't get me wrong, she's gorgeous and awesome, but she inspired me to look at how I felt about myself in relation to my body. As I've said in previous posts, one thing I'd like in my life very much is to be in a romantic relationship. And I've discounted my worthiness for that very thing purely based on my weight. And so many friends, my therapist, and others have said that my perception is for lack of a better word, CRAP. And intellectually, I know they're right. But in my heart, I truly believe that despite ALL the other things that are good and also imperfect about myself, my weight automatically makes my undesirable and unacceptable. I think I decided that the best way to prevent rejection is just to take my toys out of the dating sandbox so to speak. And my relationship with my body plays such a huge part of my living a smaller life than I want, and am slowly beginning to believe I deserve. So I joined this group and have started the process of trying to rewire my brain and replace the judgement and self hatred with honesty, self love and compassion. I've heard it said in 12 step meetings when trying to figure out a way to become a "normal" whatever; that you can't turn a Volvo into a Porsche. And that's sort of how I feel about changing my mindset regarding to loving my body WITHOUT placing conditions of weight loss on that self love. But to paraphrase a line in the Big Book, "The surest way to block off spiritual progress is contempt prior to investigation". So I'm endeavoring to have an open mind, and open heart, and allow the process to work in and thru me so that by the time I'm ready to have my joints replaced, my body size will just be another part of who I am. No more or less important than the other qualities I have.
As you've no doubt heard, it's an inside job. And for me the most significant work is occurring between my ears these days. After my first meeting of the Beyond Hunger group I felt like I'd been buffed head to toe in 40 grit sandpaper. And that was when I knew I was in the right place.
I wish for everyone a great holiday season. Filled with LOVE, LAUGHTER, HUMOR and PEACE. This will be the second season our family is having the holidays without my mom, and it's very bitter sweet. But as long as we're together, she'll be there too. I hope that whether you're with your family of origin, or family of choice, you remember what I've learned, that gratitude is the best gift to give yourself.
Thanks again for being witnesses to my journey. I'll see you in 2013!
We'll start with the challenging things. Like many people who are trying to change long ingrained behaviors, I've had periods where the healthier behaviors are easy to practice, and times when it's much harder. I've recently had a period where it was harder. I started making choices around food that were "easier" (i.e.: poorer choices). That meant more convenience foods which inevitably led me to start eating foods that were more processed and less healthy for me and DEFINITELY detrimental towards my long term health goals. And because I'm not sure I've done it before, I am going to put my health goal out into the cyber world in specific measurable terms. In talking with my therapist he stated that a Goal is just a dream with a deadline. And to that effect, I have set the goal that I will be ready to start having joint replacement surgery by October 1, 2013. And in pure mathematical terms that means I have to lose 114lbs by October 1, 2013. I don't put that out into the universe a great deal because even saying it out loud let alone putting in writing somehow feels quite daunting. I need to have both of my knees and my left hip replaced due to an auto-immune inflammatory condition that's like Rheumatoid Arthritis. I feel like someone who has climbed up a mountain with ski's strapped to my backpack and have made it to the top (losing 100lbs so far) only to have to make the leap of faith and strap my skis on and go flying down the mountain. So while putting specific time lines and end dates onto something like this is good because it makes things more concrete, it also makes it rather REAL. I don't know about you but if you've ever had a substantial weight problem, getting to a goal like this could be come something without boarders and definitions and enables you to spend your whole life focusing on this one thing which closes off a whole myriad of other life experiences that are available. The potential downside however is that it can be a gigantic set up for feeling like a complete failure. When discussing this idea with my therapist I was careful to clarify that the point of this goal is not to get 95% of the way there and then on October 1st say, "Well I didn't make it I guess that makes me a total fuck up!" Hardly. What I endeavor for it to do is hopefully keep me focused on seeing each day as an opportunity to not at all deny myself food (how I might see it in my mind) but to move closer to this wonderful goal of getting to have a fully functioning pain free body. That would be a body I haven't known since 1994, when I was in college and my left hip was deteriorating and I was in an incredible amount of pain. I realize that I have spent a great amount of my life before this particular journey in black and white thinking. If I don't look like Jennifer Connelly I don't want to try at all. If I can't win I don't want to play sort of things. If I eat 2 oz more chicken at dinner, screw it, I'm going to eat an entire cheesecake. So by choosing this date, and making my HEALTH a priority as opposed to trying to look hot in a pair of blue jeans, I'm trying to change my thinking. I'm trying to change and realize that my food choices can be placed into two categories: Does what I'm about to eat get me a) closer to, or b) farther from, the life I want to be living for myself? Rather than making foods good or bad, this seems like a much more helpful perspective for me to have.
So a few weeks ago I found my self making choices about food from the above option "b". I was sitting in a gas station parking lot having just gone into the quick mart and purchased some food that has longer than normal shelf lives, i.e., processed junk food. And I hadn't called my sponsor in awhile which I think contributed to where I found myself. I found myself simultaneously knowing that I probably shouldn't be about to eat what I'd purchased and yet completely driven to do so. (If you've EVER struggled with addiction, you might understand that feeling). So I called my sponsor on the phone, in that parking lot, and we had a very interesting conversation. She helped me understand why eating what I'd purchased could be deadly for me in the long term. Like an alcoholic, I may very well be able to have a drink that doesn't lead to a full blown relapse, but it's playing a dangerous game of Russian Roulette, I don't know that it WON'T lead to a relapse either. But the most amazing thing she said during all her support and encouragement for me to NOT eat what I'd bought was this, "Whether you eat this food or not, I love you anyway." And for some reason THAT statement stuck in my mind and had a transformative effect. While I did ended up eating the food that I'd purchased, the desire to stay in the pattern that I had been in for about a month, was no longer there. This conversation that I had occurred on a Saturday, and Sunday morning I woke up and began a great deal of contrary actions that have enabled me to make progress towards the goal of having a life that I want.
BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY, what I realized is that, just like it says in the Big Book of AA, you really can't think your way into right acting, you have to act your way into right thinking. And it's so true. And like a lot of things, I sometimes wish it didn't take quite as long for me to learn the lessons that I need to learn in my life. But I guess that's like wishing I wasn't a brunette, or Irish; wishing it won't make it true. And so I just tried to remained focused on being grateful for the willingness AND ability to do the footwork for the 24 hours ahead of me. For someone who needs to still lose 100lbs after having already done so, doing the whole, "One Day at a Time" thing sometimes feels like the hardest thing I've got to do in a day. I realized also that the physical weight on my body isn't the worst effect of choosing foods that don't serve me. It's the mental baggage that comes along with it. Normal eaters don't beat themselves up for days on end for making a mediocre or bad food choice. The self-hatred, apathy, self-pity and mental paralysis that comes along with me eating foods that don't agree with me, has become way more of a problem than gaining 15lbs. Those are the mind games that are so dangerous in dealing with food issues in my life. It's the head games that will get me.
So I now find myself endeavoring to live life one day at a time, as imperfectly as it inevitably happens in the real world, and enjoying my life a great deal more than I was a month ago. That does not mean it's going the way I'd prefer it to. And changing the way I'm trying to approach my day to day relationship with food, health and the process of getting qualified to surgery, I'm finding some of my long lost natural optimism. And for me "focusing on the goal" within the context of working a Twelve Step program just means asking for the help of my Higher Power for the ability to make the best possible choices in the 24 hour period I'm in today. Knowing that eating certain foods makes it harder for me to be an increasingly joyful member of the world at large.
And now for the good things. Because I'm on permanent disability due to my joint problems, I found myself with a great deal of time off during the day. It led me to spending a great deal of time awake late at night and sleeping a lot during the day and not liking myself in the process. And as I began to get more activity in my daily life I decided that I needed something to give me a sense of purpose and being of service to ANYTHING. So after some thought I decided to start volunteering at the Sacramento SPCA. This is a great organization that works for the health and welfare of the animals who are homeless and neglected in Sacramento County. They receive no government funding and do an incredible amount of work with limited resources. So for now I'm working 8 hours a week helping to get appointments set in their high volume Spay and Neuter clinic. It's made my life fuller and I'm much happier getting out and doing something. If you'd like to check out the great work that they're doing at the SPCA, check out the Sacramento chapter's website, www.sspca.org.
The other thing that I've done is to join a new group that is dedicated to helping end the obsession with food and weight. It's called Beyond Hunger. I found out about it from a wonderful friend of mine, (You know who you are <3 ) and I investigated it because she seems to have acquired a genuine comfort in her own skin, that has nothing to do with outside appearances, don't get me wrong, she's gorgeous and awesome, but she inspired me to look at how I felt about myself in relation to my body. As I've said in previous posts, one thing I'd like in my life very much is to be in a romantic relationship. And I've discounted my worthiness for that very thing purely based on my weight. And so many friends, my therapist, and others have said that my perception is for lack of a better word, CRAP. And intellectually, I know they're right. But in my heart, I truly believe that despite ALL the other things that are good and also imperfect about myself, my weight automatically makes my undesirable and unacceptable. I think I decided that the best way to prevent rejection is just to take my toys out of the dating sandbox so to speak. And my relationship with my body plays such a huge part of my living a smaller life than I want, and am slowly beginning to believe I deserve. So I joined this group and have started the process of trying to rewire my brain and replace the judgement and self hatred with honesty, self love and compassion. I've heard it said in 12 step meetings when trying to figure out a way to become a "normal" whatever; that you can't turn a Volvo into a Porsche. And that's sort of how I feel about changing my mindset regarding to loving my body WITHOUT placing conditions of weight loss on that self love. But to paraphrase a line in the Big Book, "The surest way to block off spiritual progress is contempt prior to investigation". So I'm endeavoring to have an open mind, and open heart, and allow the process to work in and thru me so that by the time I'm ready to have my joints replaced, my body size will just be another part of who I am. No more or less important than the other qualities I have.
As you've no doubt heard, it's an inside job. And for me the most significant work is occurring between my ears these days. After my first meeting of the Beyond Hunger group I felt like I'd been buffed head to toe in 40 grit sandpaper. And that was when I knew I was in the right place.
I wish for everyone a great holiday season. Filled with LOVE, LAUGHTER, HUMOR and PEACE. This will be the second season our family is having the holidays without my mom, and it's very bitter sweet. But as long as we're together, she'll be there too. I hope that whether you're with your family of origin, or family of choice, you remember what I've learned, that gratitude is the best gift to give yourself.
Thanks again for being witnesses to my journey. I'll see you in 2013!
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Attack of the Mini-Huni's, and the CHOICE of Gratitude
So just the other day, okay it was actually yesterday, I was sitting in my therapist's office. I go to this place because I find that I'm able to unwind the "tangled Christmas Lights" that are my thoughts with some sense of grace and with my essential sense of humor in tact. Yesterday was one of those days I was taking myself WAY TOO SERIOUSLY. Do you ever have one of those days? Trying to be not only the director but also the lead actress in the drama of your life. I see my mental guru at 2:30 once a week and trust me when I say that I was fairly exhausted and annoyed with myself. I was overly emotional and also choosing to focus WAY more on everything that wasn't going well, what I was doing wrong, and how crappy I thought I was. I'm such a hot date, right? I went into my weekly session convinced that I was a bad person, and just was hating myself at 2:30pm.
As we began to untangle my string of lights, I was being gently reminded that I wasn't exactly in the same place that I was just a year ago. October the 3rd is a significant date for me because on this date one year ago, I began the liquid diet program of the medical weight loss program that I continue to participate in today. As we talked, I began to reluctantly unfold from my origami sculpture of negativity and was asked to reflect on things that were different from this time last year. Was I happier? YES. Was I healthier? YES. Was I doing more in my day to day life? YES. Was I 100lbs lighter? YES. You would think after considering the evidence I would immediately snap out of my snark-fest and just be happier. But I am a tough nut to crack, and I kept trying to convince my therapist that I DESERVED the pity party that I was throwing in my own honor. He then made some comment about not being taken captive by the Mini-Huni's. I erupted into giggles that I couldn't avoid despite my desperate attempts to take myself seriously. Mini-Huni's? I'd never heard of them. My therapist explained that Mini-Huni's are Hawaiian leprechauns. Leprechaun's you say? I'm 75% Irish, so say no more, I get the vision of a leprechaun. My therapist explained that my thoughts were like a hoard of mischievous Mini-Huni's who were trying to reek havoc in the more well intentioned parts of my life. They were running around, giggling, throwing shame and negativity around like confetti, trying to get me distracted from the true work I was trying to accomplish. Confetti is an annoyance, but not a game stopper. It's not a game stopper IF I DON'T LET IT BE ONE. I understood intellectually what he was driving at but it had not seeped into my heart. I left feeling a little bit better but not wholly convinced that I should not be paying more attention to the Mini-Huni's than I already was.
So today I woke up had to go to a doctor's appointment, and when I got home I got online and read one of my favorite blogs: www.wantadumpsterbaby.com. Today she was celebrating 11 years sobriety from alcohol. Her positivity is infectious and she shared a gratitude list that she uses as her base of gratitude every day. She reminded me of a super important idea, that gratitude just like picking up foods, or even engaging in battle with the Mini-Huni's IS A CHOICE. You ever have that experience where you hear something for possibly the 100th time and NOTHING happens and then all of a sudden CLICK! You get it". Well in reading her great post about what being 11 years sober looks like, I got that gratitude, just like even the first compulsive bite, IS A CHOICE. While I may very well be powerless after the first compulsive bite, I can chose if and when I take the first compulsive bite. I can also chose if and how long I let the Mini-Huni's run the show. Gratitude is not just something that I get delivered to magically as if deposited on a magic island. I can chose to see that I've come as far as I have. I can chose to see that I GET to be in recovery today, not that I HAVE to. I'm not entirely sure why it made sense today, or why I put it into practice today, but I got it. I'm super glad. Because it makes life for not only myself but those around me a whole lot more enjoyable.
So for today, the Mini-Huni's are in their proper place. Tomorrow, who knows? But I do know that I can wake up tomorrow as I prepare to go to the DMV to renew my driver's license and CHOSE to be glad that the weather's cooler, that I have great friends, that I have family that loves me even if they occasionally get frustrated by me. I can chose to be calm and patient in the DMV office, and if I can just get that far, I bet the Mini-Huni's will go find someone else to harass for the day.
One can only hope. I've seen enough of them in the past couple of weeks.
Thanks for reading.
As we began to untangle my string of lights, I was being gently reminded that I wasn't exactly in the same place that I was just a year ago. October the 3rd is a significant date for me because on this date one year ago, I began the liquid diet program of the medical weight loss program that I continue to participate in today. As we talked, I began to reluctantly unfold from my origami sculpture of negativity and was asked to reflect on things that were different from this time last year. Was I happier? YES. Was I healthier? YES. Was I doing more in my day to day life? YES. Was I 100lbs lighter? YES. You would think after considering the evidence I would immediately snap out of my snark-fest and just be happier. But I am a tough nut to crack, and I kept trying to convince my therapist that I DESERVED the pity party that I was throwing in my own honor. He then made some comment about not being taken captive by the Mini-Huni's. I erupted into giggles that I couldn't avoid despite my desperate attempts to take myself seriously. Mini-Huni's? I'd never heard of them. My therapist explained that Mini-Huni's are Hawaiian leprechauns. Leprechaun's you say? I'm 75% Irish, so say no more, I get the vision of a leprechaun. My therapist explained that my thoughts were like a hoard of mischievous Mini-Huni's who were trying to reek havoc in the more well intentioned parts of my life. They were running around, giggling, throwing shame and negativity around like confetti, trying to get me distracted from the true work I was trying to accomplish. Confetti is an annoyance, but not a game stopper. It's not a game stopper IF I DON'T LET IT BE ONE. I understood intellectually what he was driving at but it had not seeped into my heart. I left feeling a little bit better but not wholly convinced that I should not be paying more attention to the Mini-Huni's than I already was.
So today I woke up had to go to a doctor's appointment, and when I got home I got online and read one of my favorite blogs: www.wantadumpsterbaby.com. Today she was celebrating 11 years sobriety from alcohol. Her positivity is infectious and she shared a gratitude list that she uses as her base of gratitude every day. She reminded me of a super important idea, that gratitude just like picking up foods, or even engaging in battle with the Mini-Huni's IS A CHOICE. You ever have that experience where you hear something for possibly the 100th time and NOTHING happens and then all of a sudden CLICK! You get it". Well in reading her great post about what being 11 years sober looks like, I got that gratitude, just like even the first compulsive bite, IS A CHOICE. While I may very well be powerless after the first compulsive bite, I can chose if and when I take the first compulsive bite. I can also chose if and how long I let the Mini-Huni's run the show. Gratitude is not just something that I get delivered to magically as if deposited on a magic island. I can chose to see that I've come as far as I have. I can chose to see that I GET to be in recovery today, not that I HAVE to. I'm not entirely sure why it made sense today, or why I put it into practice today, but I got it. I'm super glad. Because it makes life for not only myself but those around me a whole lot more enjoyable.
So for today, the Mini-Huni's are in their proper place. Tomorrow, who knows? But I do know that I can wake up tomorrow as I prepare to go to the DMV to renew my driver's license and CHOSE to be glad that the weather's cooler, that I have great friends, that I have family that loves me even if they occasionally get frustrated by me. I can chose to be calm and patient in the DMV office, and if I can just get that far, I bet the Mini-Huni's will go find someone else to harass for the day.
One can only hope. I've seen enough of them in the past couple of weeks.
Thanks for reading.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
The Experience of Joyfully Living in The NOW.
Hey there my friends! Most of you know that I've been off the technology reservation for a while as I had a rather emergent removal of my gall bladder that included a 4 day stay in the hospital. I will say, overall it was not an awful experience, with the exception of the pain between the surgery and the endoscopy needed to remove a wayward gall stone that was stuck. I have to emphasize that NURSES ARE THE GLUE THAT HOLD THE HOSPITAL WORLD TOGETHER! I have much respect for the physicians who did the surgery and other procedures, but as far as the day to day comfort, pillow fluffing, pain medication dispensing and general bolstering of my spirits when I was on day 2 1/2 of nothing my mouth water included; it was the nurses who insured my sanity as well as the coverage of my derriere when I started walking around the ward post surgery. Save one nurse who had a verbal confrontation with my very worried 80 year old dad, ALL of the nurses were wonderful, humorous and deeply concerned with my physical and emotional comfort. I'm sure you've all seen the bumper stickers that say, "If you love your freedom, thank a VET." I have a new one to produce, "If you love your health, thank a nurse." I have so much gratitude for how they made my first ever hospital stay as painless as possible.
Now that I'm home and getting back to my usual life, I thought it was about time to do another post. And because I've pretty much caught people up on the back history of my growing up as a morbidly obese youngster, teenager, young adult, and now not-so young adult; I'm now embarking on writing about the CURRENT journey. I've lost a lot of weight, more than once. What I'm constantly amazed by is how different the experiences have been each time. Twelve years ago, when I originally came into recovery I lost 189lbs in about two years and at the time my brain was not moving as fast as the scale was going down. There's a slogan in recovery, "Came for the vanity, stayed for the sanity". And the first time I lost a great deal of weight, it was about what I was going to look like, and how fabulous my life would be when I got "there". And as anyone who has embarked on a significant life change of any kind knows, RARELY if EVER, does "there" meet the expectations we place upon it in our heads. And I had also bought into the misconception that I couldn't really be happy UNTIL I got. So while I was putting forth a great deal of effort to change very ingrained behaviors, I thought that I had to almost literally suffer through the process. If I wasn't struggling in angst and borderline martyrdom, I wasn't working hard enough toward the goal. I grew up with a mom who literally said out loud to herself, but also to other's around her, "I'll be happy when I'm thin." That comment presupposes that if one is currently not thin, they are not happy. And I believed that concept to be true for a very long time.
As I've said before, one of the great experiences of becoming part of Twelve Step recovery was finding an entire community of people who were happy WHILE working towards attain a healthy body weight for them. And so while I saw these people who were happy, and I was certainly making great progress towards a more authentic level of happiness in my own life, I was so happy purely because I'd found such a loving and accepting community of people who so intimately understood the pain of being a compulsive overeating. As it says in the Twelve Step literature, identification with others often is the most powerful component of the recovery process. It certainly was in my experience.
Fast forward a decade, and I've had lot's of success and recovery, along with taking my own will back which resulted in gaining back all the weight I'd lost. When I came back into the recovery rooms in July 2011, I'd also started seeing a great therapist who was rather adamant regarding the idea that I could be happy NOW. I was over 400lbs, having to use a wheelchair because I need both my knees replaced, living with my parents because I'd lost my job and on permanent disability, living what I believed to be a VERY small life. I was encouraged to consider the concept that the whole point of recovery wasn't just to put down the substance that was simultaneously irresistible and destructive, but to find things that are enjoyable and interesting to me. And for someone who has spent a great deal of my life consumed with the idea of losing weight and how great life will be WHEN I got there, I intellectually have a very hard time buying into the concept of being happy in the moment. I say that in the present tense because after a year of being focused on physical/emotional/spiritual recovery, I feel like I'm still struggling with this idea. I am once again aware that my intelligence certainly can be a hinderance in my recovery.
So in the past year, as I was very focused on my goal, I became acutely aware of how lopsided my thinking was when it came to my weight. If someone I haven't talked to in a while asks me how I'm doing, my instinctive response was to go into a detailed discussion of how much weight I've lost,, (because that makes me a better person right?) and how I'm progressing towards my goal of being able to get my knees replaced. And like so many things I've experienced in my life, when the universe wants to provide you with a lesson, you will keep getting that lesson, OVER AND OVER until you've sufficiently absorbed the intended message. My therapist suggested that I undertake a hobby or activity that was group oriented that would help me to break out of the isolation that had become a crutch and a curse in my every day life. After some thinking and no small amount of resistance I joined a choir at a church that I felt a lovely family-spirited connection to. It has turned out to be a great experience and an opportunity to sing, which I've enjoyed in the past, as well as be in a place where I can naturally spread my spiritual wings.
I'm more aware than ever that I have arrived at a place where I use my size and my weight as the defining characteristic when I think of myself in the world. It's always been a negative connotation because I was so overweight, and the easiest reason to feel like I was "less than". I am also aware that I need to be willing to let go of the old thinking that says I am primarily defined by how I look, rather than who I am as a person. My intelligence, humor, compassion, ability to be a good friend, daughter and sister SHOULD account for so much more than the weight on the scale or the size written on the tag in the back of my pants. And yet it frequently doesn't. I have also recently become aware that it's not solely society's fault that I buy into thinking like that. I am a big fan of personal responsibility, on lots of levels. And if I am going to be a fan of that concept, it certainly should apply to me. And while society's view of overweight people isn't exactly helpful, as I believe that Compulsive Overeating is an eating disorder just like anorexia or bulimia, but not treated that way by society and the medical community, that's NOT a good enough reason for me to remain stuck in thinking that no longer serves me today. The same goes for fashion magazines, reality television and other forms of severely superficial mainstream media. Now that I'm aware of the overwhelming prevalence that thinking has in my day to day life, I have a choice about how much energy I give to it, and how much work I do towards deconstructing those thought patterns. THANK GOD for my support system; meetings, sponsor, program friends, therapist, support group members, and lots of good friends who remind me that I am lovable just as I am, today. It gives me the willingness to stay diligent on the path of truly learning to find joy in living in my body and my life TODAY. It will be the only way that I will be able to reach my goals, whether those goals have to do with my weight or my life in general.
It continues to be a very interesting journey. Thanks for coming along.
Now that I'm home and getting back to my usual life, I thought it was about time to do another post. And because I've pretty much caught people up on the back history of my growing up as a morbidly obese youngster, teenager, young adult, and now not-so young adult; I'm now embarking on writing about the CURRENT journey. I've lost a lot of weight, more than once. What I'm constantly amazed by is how different the experiences have been each time. Twelve years ago, when I originally came into recovery I lost 189lbs in about two years and at the time my brain was not moving as fast as the scale was going down. There's a slogan in recovery, "Came for the vanity, stayed for the sanity". And the first time I lost a great deal of weight, it was about what I was going to look like, and how fabulous my life would be when I got "there". And as anyone who has embarked on a significant life change of any kind knows, RARELY if EVER, does "there" meet the expectations we place upon it in our heads. And I had also bought into the misconception that I couldn't really be happy UNTIL I got. So while I was putting forth a great deal of effort to change very ingrained behaviors, I thought that I had to almost literally suffer through the process. If I wasn't struggling in angst and borderline martyrdom, I wasn't working hard enough toward the goal. I grew up with a mom who literally said out loud to herself, but also to other's around her, "I'll be happy when I'm thin." That comment presupposes that if one is currently not thin, they are not happy. And I believed that concept to be true for a very long time.
As I've said before, one of the great experiences of becoming part of Twelve Step recovery was finding an entire community of people who were happy WHILE working towards attain a healthy body weight for them. And so while I saw these people who were happy, and I was certainly making great progress towards a more authentic level of happiness in my own life, I was so happy purely because I'd found such a loving and accepting community of people who so intimately understood the pain of being a compulsive overeating. As it says in the Twelve Step literature, identification with others often is the most powerful component of the recovery process. It certainly was in my experience.
Fast forward a decade, and I've had lot's of success and recovery, along with taking my own will back which resulted in gaining back all the weight I'd lost. When I came back into the recovery rooms in July 2011, I'd also started seeing a great therapist who was rather adamant regarding the idea that I could be happy NOW. I was over 400lbs, having to use a wheelchair because I need both my knees replaced, living with my parents because I'd lost my job and on permanent disability, living what I believed to be a VERY small life. I was encouraged to consider the concept that the whole point of recovery wasn't just to put down the substance that was simultaneously irresistible and destructive, but to find things that are enjoyable and interesting to me. And for someone who has spent a great deal of my life consumed with the idea of losing weight and how great life will be WHEN I got there, I intellectually have a very hard time buying into the concept of being happy in the moment. I say that in the present tense because after a year of being focused on physical/emotional/spiritual recovery, I feel like I'm still struggling with this idea. I am once again aware that my intelligence certainly can be a hinderance in my recovery.
So in the past year, as I was very focused on my goal, I became acutely aware of how lopsided my thinking was when it came to my weight. If someone I haven't talked to in a while asks me how I'm doing, my instinctive response was to go into a detailed discussion of how much weight I've lost,, (because that makes me a better person right?) and how I'm progressing towards my goal of being able to get my knees replaced. And like so many things I've experienced in my life, when the universe wants to provide you with a lesson, you will keep getting that lesson, OVER AND OVER until you've sufficiently absorbed the intended message. My therapist suggested that I undertake a hobby or activity that was group oriented that would help me to break out of the isolation that had become a crutch and a curse in my every day life. After some thinking and no small amount of resistance I joined a choir at a church that I felt a lovely family-spirited connection to. It has turned out to be a great experience and an opportunity to sing, which I've enjoyed in the past, as well as be in a place where I can naturally spread my spiritual wings.
I'm more aware than ever that I have arrived at a place where I use my size and my weight as the defining characteristic when I think of myself in the world. It's always been a negative connotation because I was so overweight, and the easiest reason to feel like I was "less than". I am also aware that I need to be willing to let go of the old thinking that says I am primarily defined by how I look, rather than who I am as a person. My intelligence, humor, compassion, ability to be a good friend, daughter and sister SHOULD account for so much more than the weight on the scale or the size written on the tag in the back of my pants. And yet it frequently doesn't. I have also recently become aware that it's not solely society's fault that I buy into thinking like that. I am a big fan of personal responsibility, on lots of levels. And if I am going to be a fan of that concept, it certainly should apply to me. And while society's view of overweight people isn't exactly helpful, as I believe that Compulsive Overeating is an eating disorder just like anorexia or bulimia, but not treated that way by society and the medical community, that's NOT a good enough reason for me to remain stuck in thinking that no longer serves me today. The same goes for fashion magazines, reality television and other forms of severely superficial mainstream media. Now that I'm aware of the overwhelming prevalence that thinking has in my day to day life, I have a choice about how much energy I give to it, and how much work I do towards deconstructing those thought patterns. THANK GOD for my support system; meetings, sponsor, program friends, therapist, support group members, and lots of good friends who remind me that I am lovable just as I am, today. It gives me the willingness to stay diligent on the path of truly learning to find joy in living in my body and my life TODAY. It will be the only way that I will be able to reach my goals, whether those goals have to do with my weight or my life in general.
It continues to be a very interesting journey. Thanks for coming along.
Monday, August 6, 2012
Missing the Forrest for the Trees......
I don't know about you, but every once in a while, I like to wind myself up in a good old fashioned snit. I'm not quite sure why, but it just feels good to get completely wound up in a topic that trends towards the unimportant or ridiculous. Recently I have found myself getting wound up in the lives of people that I know, and am even fairly close to. I'm writing about this because I have discovered through some introspection and help from outside sources, that this "activity" directly relates to myself and my journey as an overweight person who is trying to morph into a someone living in a normal sized body. Doesn't quite make sense? Let me explain......
Growing up as an obese child, adolescent and young adult...the goals I set for myself ranged from the weak to the downright non-existent. Because I was most definitely a compulsive overeater from probably the age of about 12 years old, I didn't understand why I was so perpetually unsuccessful at trying to manage something that I've only recently realized that I was powerless over. Sort of like a surfer trying to control the waves of the ocean. I thought my eating was something I "SHOULD" be able to get a grasp on, and was certainly told many times, by many different sources that if I just had enough "willpower" and was "disciplined" enough, I should be able to put the food down. As I amassed ample evidence in my own life of my failure in controlling my weight, I think there was a part of me that just thought that having goals was a fruitless endeavor. If I couldn't conquer this one seemingly basic task, why try and reach for anything bigger, better and higher. Striving for mediocrity became the best case scenario for me. I certainly approached my academics this way, along with other areas of my life. It certainly became the not so rose colored lenses through which I viewed myself.
As a way to compensate for this rather depressing situation, I developed a coping skill of becoming overly focused on the lives of my friends. In retrospect I think it was for the simple reason that they had the lives that I wanted, more than I wanted the life I had of my own. It became easier to become immeshed in their romantic lives and their drama, because it not only allowed me to vicariously live through their excitement, but it also allowed me to ignore what was wrong in my own life. I was always ready and willing to ask deep and probing and seemingly endless questions of my friends to get even the most minute detail of an adventure from them. I would use these seeds of excitement to engage in my own fantasy life, while never having to do any concrete footwork towards developing my own exciting life. While I truly believe it filled a vital need at the time, it certainly was also a double edged sword that I would eventually have to fall on.
Interestingly enough, as I entered into recovery, and began to look at my own life and its' complexities, I found my friend were genuinely pleased that I had started talking about what was going on in my life. They apparently had been patiently waiting for me to start doing my own thing, and they were nothing but supportive in my speaking up. It was NOT a comfortable place for me to be a great deal of the time. My internal self-centeredness had left me unable to distinguish between open and honest sharing of my life versus being a conversation monopolizer. I thought if I talked about myself and what I was going through, that I was being "selfish" or "self-centered". It has taken me a great deal of time and consideration to realize that while it's entirely possible to monopolize conversations on occasion, it's a normal part of the give and take of long-term friendships. And while I genuinely DO want to know what's going on in the lives of my close friends, it can also be perceived as selfish if my interest is based on my on need to focus and fantasize on how great "their" lives are. It does not allow me to be a fully present listener at certain times. A trait I've caught myself in more than once.
Coming back into recovery in 2011, after the passing of my mom, I was blessed to find a WONDERFUL therapist who has extensive experience in psychology and recovery and just has a genuinely loving ability to call me on my shit when necessary. In the course of our getting to the meat of things, I was told what may be one of the most important things I've heard in the past year, "The problem with addiction is not necessarily that you're abusing X, Y, or Z substances. It's the bigger life that you give up because you're pursuing your drug of choice to the exclusion of everything else. Recovery is about having a FULLER, BROADER, MORE DIVERSE life." WOW! There it was. My conundrum in a nut shell. I had been using food, and chasing food, to the exclusion of many life experiences that people of my age have typically had by now. When my therapist first mentioned this idea to me, I took it in at the cerebral level like I am typically want to do. But like a great deal of things in my life, it has taken a bit of time for that concept to go from my head into my heart and soul. The greatest distance between two points for me is often the distance between getting an idea from my brain to my gut. I certainly wish the journey could be quicker, but hey, it takes what it takes. But understanding that concept has been a huge catalyst for me in the current portion of my journey.
When your life has been completely focused on ONE thing to the exclusion of everything else, how to you even begin to IMAGINE bringing different things in. For me, the ONE thing has been food, and not just food but my overwhelming preoccupation with the size of my body and my place in the world framed by my body size. I was asked by my therapist to start looking into some hobbies that weren't related to food in any way, and you would had thought I'd been asked to cure cancer while traveling to Mars. Something other than getting thin, what I'm going to do once I'm thin, planning how fabulous my life will be WHEN I'm thin, and all the great things I'll get to do once I'm THERE. And it's only been after the gentle repetition of counseling that I'm becoming more and more acutely aware of just how much that thinking has organized my life. Because there are certain physical limitations that I have due to the stress my weight has placed on my body, some future thinking is warranted. But there is an organic sadness sitting on me as I look back at all the wasted time, the experiences I haven't felt I deserved, and the life I didn't think I was worth. It's certainly not pretty to look at under bright lights, but the fact that I'm even conscious of how much I've limited myself in the past is I believe a sign of progress.
I've recently found myself back into that place of obsessing about a friend of mine, and their life and what I think they SHOULD be doing with it. And I can honestly say I'm grateful that the voice of my therapist pops into my head and gently encourages me to "Get my own life". Once again, consciousness is a great thing, if not always comfortable. I know that I'm on the path and will eventually get to the point where I will be able to have a more concrete picture of where I want my life to go, and what I want it to look like, beyond the size of my butt. And so the journey continues.....
Growing up as an obese child, adolescent and young adult...the goals I set for myself ranged from the weak to the downright non-existent. Because I was most definitely a compulsive overeater from probably the age of about 12 years old, I didn't understand why I was so perpetually unsuccessful at trying to manage something that I've only recently realized that I was powerless over. Sort of like a surfer trying to control the waves of the ocean. I thought my eating was something I "SHOULD" be able to get a grasp on, and was certainly told many times, by many different sources that if I just had enough "willpower" and was "disciplined" enough, I should be able to put the food down. As I amassed ample evidence in my own life of my failure in controlling my weight, I think there was a part of me that just thought that having goals was a fruitless endeavor. If I couldn't conquer this one seemingly basic task, why try and reach for anything bigger, better and higher. Striving for mediocrity became the best case scenario for me. I certainly approached my academics this way, along with other areas of my life. It certainly became the not so rose colored lenses through which I viewed myself.
As a way to compensate for this rather depressing situation, I developed a coping skill of becoming overly focused on the lives of my friends. In retrospect I think it was for the simple reason that they had the lives that I wanted, more than I wanted the life I had of my own. It became easier to become immeshed in their romantic lives and their drama, because it not only allowed me to vicariously live through their excitement, but it also allowed me to ignore what was wrong in my own life. I was always ready and willing to ask deep and probing and seemingly endless questions of my friends to get even the most minute detail of an adventure from them. I would use these seeds of excitement to engage in my own fantasy life, while never having to do any concrete footwork towards developing my own exciting life. While I truly believe it filled a vital need at the time, it certainly was also a double edged sword that I would eventually have to fall on.
Interestingly enough, as I entered into recovery, and began to look at my own life and its' complexities, I found my friend were genuinely pleased that I had started talking about what was going on in my life. They apparently had been patiently waiting for me to start doing my own thing, and they were nothing but supportive in my speaking up. It was NOT a comfortable place for me to be a great deal of the time. My internal self-centeredness had left me unable to distinguish between open and honest sharing of my life versus being a conversation monopolizer. I thought if I talked about myself and what I was going through, that I was being "selfish" or "self-centered". It has taken me a great deal of time and consideration to realize that while it's entirely possible to monopolize conversations on occasion, it's a normal part of the give and take of long-term friendships. And while I genuinely DO want to know what's going on in the lives of my close friends, it can also be perceived as selfish if my interest is based on my on need to focus and fantasize on how great "their" lives are. It does not allow me to be a fully present listener at certain times. A trait I've caught myself in more than once.
Coming back into recovery in 2011, after the passing of my mom, I was blessed to find a WONDERFUL therapist who has extensive experience in psychology and recovery and just has a genuinely loving ability to call me on my shit when necessary. In the course of our getting to the meat of things, I was told what may be one of the most important things I've heard in the past year, "The problem with addiction is not necessarily that you're abusing X, Y, or Z substances. It's the bigger life that you give up because you're pursuing your drug of choice to the exclusion of everything else. Recovery is about having a FULLER, BROADER, MORE DIVERSE life." WOW! There it was. My conundrum in a nut shell. I had been using food, and chasing food, to the exclusion of many life experiences that people of my age have typically had by now. When my therapist first mentioned this idea to me, I took it in at the cerebral level like I am typically want to do. But like a great deal of things in my life, it has taken a bit of time for that concept to go from my head into my heart and soul. The greatest distance between two points for me is often the distance between getting an idea from my brain to my gut. I certainly wish the journey could be quicker, but hey, it takes what it takes. But understanding that concept has been a huge catalyst for me in the current portion of my journey.
When your life has been completely focused on ONE thing to the exclusion of everything else, how to you even begin to IMAGINE bringing different things in. For me, the ONE thing has been food, and not just food but my overwhelming preoccupation with the size of my body and my place in the world framed by my body size. I was asked by my therapist to start looking into some hobbies that weren't related to food in any way, and you would had thought I'd been asked to cure cancer while traveling to Mars. Something other than getting thin, what I'm going to do once I'm thin, planning how fabulous my life will be WHEN I'm thin, and all the great things I'll get to do once I'm THERE. And it's only been after the gentle repetition of counseling that I'm becoming more and more acutely aware of just how much that thinking has organized my life. Because there are certain physical limitations that I have due to the stress my weight has placed on my body, some future thinking is warranted. But there is an organic sadness sitting on me as I look back at all the wasted time, the experiences I haven't felt I deserved, and the life I didn't think I was worth. It's certainly not pretty to look at under bright lights, but the fact that I'm even conscious of how much I've limited myself in the past is I believe a sign of progress.
I've recently found myself back into that place of obsessing about a friend of mine, and their life and what I think they SHOULD be doing with it. And I can honestly say I'm grateful that the voice of my therapist pops into my head and gently encourages me to "Get my own life". Once again, consciousness is a great thing, if not always comfortable. I know that I'm on the path and will eventually get to the point where I will be able to have a more concrete picture of where I want my life to go, and what I want it to look like, beyond the size of my butt. And so the journey continues.....
Sunday, July 15, 2012
It's a Long Way Down to The Bottom
Returning to my home environment was a nerve wracking process for me. I'd never been out of my home town of Sacramento that long before, and I sort of felt like I was returning from a trip from outer space. Before leaving the treatment center, we had to schedule appointments with our primary care physician, a registered dietitian and a psychiatrist and/or counselor. I had not been in therapy before I'd left for treatment so I had to start treatment with a doctor brand new upon my return. I selected a psychiatrist and called and talked with a doctor over the phone who said that he would be willing to meet with me. He sent me the introductory paperwork to fill out and we scheduled a time to meet. Once I met him I decided because he could do medications as well as therapy, he would be a good way to kill two birds with one stone. Because I was returning back to work, I needed to insure I could have as few disruptions as possible.
My return to work was chaotic to say the least. I decided to return to a full day's work the day I came back I had my first major anxiety attack by noon. I'd never been someone who had to deal with anxiety in a major way before, so I was completely shocked to have an attack that left me feeling like my heart was going to jump out of my skin, as well as being unable to control my crying and fear. I left work and was able to get an early appointment to meet with my new psychiatrist who gave me some medication and suggested that I do a half day or work and then build up to full 8 hour days.
I realized upon my return that divulging the reason for my medical leave was a risk that I don't know I'd take if I had a chance to do it over again. When your mental health is the reason for taking a medical leave, having people knowing that when you come back to work left me in an incredibly vulnerable place. It's so strange the way we continue to view with mental health issues in our society today. If I had broken my arm, or had a surgery of any type, my returning to work would be proof enough that I had recovered. Upon my return I found myself being questioned about my "health" with all good intentions by my direct boss. I don't believe there was any malicious intent behind it, but I began to immediately regret telling my boss where I was during my leave once I was back on the job. It left me feeling INCREDIBLY INSECURE AND VULNERABLE. I think they were worried I was going to crack under any sort of pressure, and knowing that just made me more self-conscious. I tend to be someone who wears my heart on my sleeve and I will divulge things about myself and THEN regret having open my mouth about something. This was an acutely vivid example of this. Having a substantial panic attack the first day I returned to my job was not exactly a way to instill confidence to my employer, but I just had to suit up, show up and get back into the work.
As defined by Overeaters Anonymous, abstinence is "refraining from compulsive overeating". Even after 52 days of intense in and outpatient treatment I was not able to remain abstinent for any significant period of time. It was heartbreaking and frustrating that even though I had been through what most people would think would be a significant bottom of leaving my life and going into a hospital, I couldn't put the food down. Within approximately 6 months of returning to my home, I was basically in full blown relapse again. I was in active therapy, meeting with a registered dietitian, and going to twelve step meetings but I was still using food to alleviate any emotional turmoil that I was experiencing; whether those emotions were good or bad.
I have to say when I look back at things, I was once again placed into a position where I wanted to be "fine" for other people, as well as myself. Growing up in the family I did, where we were expected to put a smile on our faces when leaving the house, I began to feel like that was acutely necessary again. I didn't want people to think that I was the "mental case" who couldn't handle my life, even if that was indeed the case for a brief period of time. In addition to wanting people to think that things were fine, I also actually wanted things to be fine. I didn't want to be feeling bad, anxious or uncomfortable in my own skin. And that is the part of addiction that I feel is so insidious and cruel. WANTING to put an addiction down is not enough. NEEDING to put the addiction down, is not enough. LOSING things that you hold dear in your life is not enough to put the addiction down. Doing the mental gymnastics to try and figure out what will be enough for someone to put the addiction down often turns out to be a futile endeavor that wastes time and leaves the person feeling life a failure. When looking at addiction, the thing that gets a person to put down the thing that is killing them is different for everyone. And what is truly frustrating for myself as a compulsive overeater is how the majority of society continues view food as different from drugs, alcohol, sex, gambling, or anything else that is traditionally viewed as an addiction. I can't tell you how many times I've heard in a Twelve Step meeting that it would be easier to be addicted to ANYTHING else, other than food. It is just like any other addiction once you get hooked, the physical allergy to food creates a mental obsession that tells you "I MUST HAVE MORE" of the very thing that is ruining your life. A frequent slogan heard in all twelve step meetings is, "One is too many and a thousand is never enough". It certainly rang true for me when it came to food. Compulsive overeating is NOT a moral issue, and for many it's not a matter of will power, strength or even choice. Like I heard someone say at a meeting. Dancing with an addiction is like dancing with a gorilla, you may start out leading, but eventually the gorilla decided when your done dancing. And unfortunately my gorilla was no where near done dancing with me yet.
My return to work was chaotic to say the least. I decided to return to a full day's work the day I came back I had my first major anxiety attack by noon. I'd never been someone who had to deal with anxiety in a major way before, so I was completely shocked to have an attack that left me feeling like my heart was going to jump out of my skin, as well as being unable to control my crying and fear. I left work and was able to get an early appointment to meet with my new psychiatrist who gave me some medication and suggested that I do a half day or work and then build up to full 8 hour days.
I realized upon my return that divulging the reason for my medical leave was a risk that I don't know I'd take if I had a chance to do it over again. When your mental health is the reason for taking a medical leave, having people knowing that when you come back to work left me in an incredibly vulnerable place. It's so strange the way we continue to view with mental health issues in our society today. If I had broken my arm, or had a surgery of any type, my returning to work would be proof enough that I had recovered. Upon my return I found myself being questioned about my "health" with all good intentions by my direct boss. I don't believe there was any malicious intent behind it, but I began to immediately regret telling my boss where I was during my leave once I was back on the job. It left me feeling INCREDIBLY INSECURE AND VULNERABLE. I think they were worried I was going to crack under any sort of pressure, and knowing that just made me more self-conscious. I tend to be someone who wears my heart on my sleeve and I will divulge things about myself and THEN regret having open my mouth about something. This was an acutely vivid example of this. Having a substantial panic attack the first day I returned to my job was not exactly a way to instill confidence to my employer, but I just had to suit up, show up and get back into the work.
As defined by Overeaters Anonymous, abstinence is "refraining from compulsive overeating". Even after 52 days of intense in and outpatient treatment I was not able to remain abstinent for any significant period of time. It was heartbreaking and frustrating that even though I had been through what most people would think would be a significant bottom of leaving my life and going into a hospital, I couldn't put the food down. Within approximately 6 months of returning to my home, I was basically in full blown relapse again. I was in active therapy, meeting with a registered dietitian, and going to twelve step meetings but I was still using food to alleviate any emotional turmoil that I was experiencing; whether those emotions were good or bad.
I have to say when I look back at things, I was once again placed into a position where I wanted to be "fine" for other people, as well as myself. Growing up in the family I did, where we were expected to put a smile on our faces when leaving the house, I began to feel like that was acutely necessary again. I didn't want people to think that I was the "mental case" who couldn't handle my life, even if that was indeed the case for a brief period of time. In addition to wanting people to think that things were fine, I also actually wanted things to be fine. I didn't want to be feeling bad, anxious or uncomfortable in my own skin. And that is the part of addiction that I feel is so insidious and cruel. WANTING to put an addiction down is not enough. NEEDING to put the addiction down, is not enough. LOSING things that you hold dear in your life is not enough to put the addiction down. Doing the mental gymnastics to try and figure out what will be enough for someone to put the addiction down often turns out to be a futile endeavor that wastes time and leaves the person feeling life a failure. When looking at addiction, the thing that gets a person to put down the thing that is killing them is different for everyone. And what is truly frustrating for myself as a compulsive overeater is how the majority of society continues view food as different from drugs, alcohol, sex, gambling, or anything else that is traditionally viewed as an addiction. I can't tell you how many times I've heard in a Twelve Step meeting that it would be easier to be addicted to ANYTHING else, other than food. It is just like any other addiction once you get hooked, the physical allergy to food creates a mental obsession that tells you "I MUST HAVE MORE" of the very thing that is ruining your life. A frequent slogan heard in all twelve step meetings is, "One is too many and a thousand is never enough". It certainly rang true for me when it came to food. Compulsive overeating is NOT a moral issue, and for many it's not a matter of will power, strength or even choice. Like I heard someone say at a meeting. Dancing with an addiction is like dancing with a gorilla, you may start out leading, but eventually the gorilla decided when your done dancing. And unfortunately my gorilla was no where near done dancing with me yet.
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