I've been sharing other people's thoughts, not my own. Granted, their thoughts mirror mine in many ways, but truthfully, I've been avoiding my own thoughts, just as I avoid so many things.
I have little glimpses into just how much I've practiced avoidance. Those glimpses come in little bursts here and there, as I'm drifting off to sleep, or during a middle of the night bathroom run. I try to hold onto them, to dive in deeper, but they seem to disappear before I can fully grasp them.
What I am seeing, though, is that I've been so busy beating myself up for my eating habits (good for a day, a month, a year plus and then, just like that, eating junk) that I haven't really been able to focus on why I might do what I do.
I like to think that I'm different. I've read all about the people, especially women, who eat after abuse, specifically sexual abuse, in an attempt to shield themselves from further harm.
That wasn't me. Nope. Sure, I was sexually abused, and yes, I went from being what people described as attractive (one more thing that I was unable to see because I was too busy being a perfectionist and picking apart each perceived flaw) to overweight to obese. But really, the two weren't related.
I also gained after losses - my daughter, my marriage, my mother, my beloved pets, my relationship with my best friend - but I'm sure that was coincidental. I've been much too busy over the past 30 years to really deal with any of those losses, but I'm sure that my abuse of food isn't connected.
I noticed something interesting yesterday. Some cables were damaged and I learned that I would be without internet and phone for a while, possibly for quite a while. I'm notorious for losing my cell phone, and when I finally located it, it was dead. The search for the charger ensued next. It's no secret that I don't love cell phones, but knowing that mine was useless at a time when I had no internet or land line service, left me feeling agitated. And guess what? The second that agitation hit, I wanted to eat something. Crunchy.
So I guess it's not just life's major hits that leave me wanting to eat.
I took it a step further. After all, I couldn't go online, so I might as well do a little bit of thinking!
Was I agitated because I couldn't make the phone call I needed to make? (You know, the one that's been on my To Do list for three days?) Or, was I feeling unsettled because I've actually replaced my eating distraction with computer distraction?
I'd guess the latter...
So, we have the big stuff, the little stuff, and the habitual eating. Playing a board game? Time for a snack! Checking Facebook? Maybe I'll fix a little plate of something...
In addition, there's another emotional factor, one that I've lived with for too many years. It has some deep roots, but here's what I know. I have such black and white thinking, and it's so easy for me to label food as being good or bad. I know how I desire to eat, which good foods I want to eat. However, since I'm not living in a bubble, I'm surrounded by bad food. I can go months or years being okay with that: the bad food is theirs and I don't touch it; the good food is mine and they have no desire to touch it! But, once I take that first bite, this absurd food frenzy goes on in my head. (Am I really admitting this?)
It goes something like this: Say there's a loaf of bread, a box of cookies, and some leftover Chinese food in the house. They're all bad foods. In my head, when I'm into the bad foods, I'm always looking for a way to stop, but I know that I can't stop while the bad food is still in the house. So, I have to get rid of it, either by eating it or by throwing it away, swearing it off forever. (And then wanting to dive into the trash and get it when I'm craving it three hours later!) I'll get rid of it one way or another, but then Nick will bring something else home because he's forgotten to read my mind and know that I don't want to eat crap anymore!
I do this dance with my unknowing partner (who loves to eat but who doesn't have the food issues that I do, and never knows when to believe me when I tell him to buy something bad or not to buy something bad!). It goes on and on until I'm so sick and fed up that I, once again, start eating the way I want to eat.
At that point, I can be good (i.e. eating good food) for a day, maybe two. Then, I can either become overwhelmed by stress - and the stress is real - or cravings, or both, and give in. Or, I'll continue for months and months, reminding myself how good I feel while eating well and how desperate and hopeless I feel when I'm in the food and how it impossible it seems to make my way back once I've taken that first bite.
This is the lunacy that I live with, and I'm floored at how much time and energy I've wasted on it over the years.
I figure I have a few choices. I can go live in one of those tiny houses in the woods somewhere, alone, and not have to worry about other people bringing food into my surroundings.
I can stay where I am and force my family to eat the way I eat. Yeah, right. I would love to see them eat mostly whole foods, though, at least in our home.
Or, I can somehow come to grips with my distorted attitudes about food.
I'm certain that my third option is essential; I just have to figure out exactly how to go about it. My goal is to be able to say this:
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