Recovery Revisited

It’s been A LONG time since I’ve posted, but I recently realized that I need my blog more than ever since it’s a great outlet for letting go of all the junk that lives in my addict head.  

Once an addict, always an addict no matter the number of days that go by or how much joy, happiness and good enters your life. Addiction is like a giant, swirling black hole that can pull you in even if you think you’ve left a safe distance between you and it.  

What I’ve come to realize is that while I’m a food addict (without doubt), food isn’t my problem, coping with reality is my problem. Food is what I use to cope with reality, and man is my reality beyond anything I imagined when I started this blog two years.  And like nothing I would have fathomed when I started my journey in recovery nearly five years ago.

The biggest happening since my last post was that I got pregnant (surprise), had a baby, and am now spending my days parenting a beautiful, spirited little girl who will turn three months old on Saturday.  She is the light in my life and fills my heart with love. I’m so grateful for her and wouldn’t have it any other way even though Todd and I never planned to be parents, apparently, the universe had different thoughts, and here we are. . .living in a very new and different reality.

One of the chief reasons I didn’t think I was “parent material” is because I’m extremely selfish. The thought of having to share or give so much energy to another human didn’t seem doable or desirable. And to some extent I’ve seen that play out during the past 12 weeks of my daughter’s life. How? I’m struggling in my addiction to flour and sugar AGAIN because my reality is like nothing I’ve ever encountered.  Parenting my daughter is by far the most difficult, important, spiritual and humbling undertaking of my life. While it’s amazing, I harbor a huge amount of fear that I’m not going to do right by her, that I’m not going to be good enough to give her what she needs to live and thrive. I guess I feel ill equip. Most days of her nearly 90 days of existence I’m guessing, hoping that I’m doing and making the right choices for her. So surrounded by all of this fear and uncertainty I’ve landed back in the food.

Addiction, whether to drugs, alcohol, sex or food feeds on fear. And as I’m sure anyone who is a parent can attest to parenting–good parenting—means trusting and do the best you can.  And so I struggle. But I don’t want to!

Thankfully my previous experiences in recovery have taught me that there’s a better way. There’s no need for me to sink like a stone. I can turn this around and turn it around quickly, all I need is willingness, surrender, and to remember that my Higher Power, not my addict, is in charge of what unfolds during any given day in my life and in the life of my daughter.

My number one job right now is to get well. To get right with recovery and to parent my daughter like she deserves to be parented. And that means she needs 100 percent of what I can give to her.

And so begins a new path in my journey towards sane and happy usefulness.  It’s time to carry on. Head up. Focused. And committed to the steps that have helped me so many times in the past.  

 

 

 

The Travelin’ Food Addict

I’ve been on the road a lot lately and I’m headed out again later this week for a
work-trip, and as is usually the case before I hit the road, I’m feeling a bit unsettled because it means I have to deviate from my normal, predictable interactions with food.

While traveling is completely doable for a food addict, it does take some extra effort and planning. Specifically, I need to figure out what food I can pack in my suitcase and take with me; what food I can buy when I get where I’m going; and where I’ll be eating for the couple of meals that I’ll likely need to eat out.

During a recent trip to D.C. I was able visit my friend Dana, who graciously gave me full-range of her kitchen during my weekend stay with her. The morning I arrived, I went to the Whole Foods around the corner from her house, grocery-list in hand, and bought the food I would need for the next five days of eating. I went back to her house and prepared everything like I would if I were at home. It worked out perfectly. I had all the food I needed while I stayed with Dana, and when I was ready to pack up and depart for the second leg of my trip, I took my prepared food with me. Thanks to a call before arriving in town, I was able to secure access to a mini-fridge and a microwave in my hotel room. All my pre-planning, and an understanding and supportive friend made this an “easy” trip in terms of food, but not all trips are as easy. For example, this week I’ll only be on the road for three days—one day traveling, one day at my destination, and another day traveling home—so it’s not as long a trip, but it’s slightly more challenging because I won’t have the use of a friend’s kitchen. Thankfully, there are several food items I can pack, I can shop for an item or two when I arrive at my hotel, and the rest of the items will come from the restaurant in my hotel. It ain’t all neat and pretty, like this Type-A girl likes it, but it’s totally doable. It has to be because my old way of traveling was almost always one long binge from the minute I left my house to the minute I arrived at my destination. For me there was nothing better than a long lay over because that meant time for eating and buying items to take on the plane with me. I used to love airport food, no surprise since most of it is either sugar or flour based. Have you ever tried to find healthy food in an airport? It’s not easy.

Back in the old days, before recovery, I would wander around the terminal and gorge myself on whatever my favorite food items were at the time. Never mind that one of my most humiliating days ever came while traveling for work. Weighing nearly 350 pounds, I was sitting near the gate, minding my business, waiting for my plane, when an airport employee came up to me and informed me that I would need to purchase another seat because I was, “too large for one seat.” I nearly burst into tears right there, but instead I saved my hurt and humiliation until I got where I was going (and until I was alone, of course) and had one hell of a horrible binge. It’s sad to think that even this type of humiliation wasn’t enough to stop this addict from eating more.

Writing that story, here, now, nearly ten years later still brings tears to my eyes, but at the end of the day it’s a good reminder of why a little extra planning around my food before traveling pays off. It certainly beats having to ask the flight attendant before every flight for a seat-belt extender, or worse yet, having to buy two airplane seats. Today, even if it is a little unsettling, I take comfort in knowing that there’s a better way to travel and that way is abstinently—no flour, no sugar.

While You’re Away

Last weekend, Todd, my significant other, left for Hong Kong and Shanghai on business and he won’t be back until next week, and man, do I miss him. In missing him, I was reminded how I used to covet time alone, in fact, before recovery I would have cherished 12 days without him because it would have meant that I could eat and binge without having to be sneaky or hide my food behavior from him.

Before, when food addiction consumed my life, I would spend the days leading up to one of his departures fantasizing about and planning all the places I was going to go to get my fix. And when he would finally leave town, it wouldn’t take me a New York minute to be in the car headed for my favorite fast food restaurant, bakery or grocery store to stock up for multiple days of bingeing. I loved being alone with my food, and while I missed Todd, he became a distance memory as I drifted deeper and deeper into a self-induced food coma. I remember thinking that the food would somehow help mask the loneliness I felt not having him near, but it never did. In fact, it had the opposite effect, it would lead me to feel more alone and guilty for having gone completely insane (again) with the food. Left to my own devices, I would eat and eat until I made myself sick, which meant that I didn’t want to do anything else so I would often stay at home alone and eat more. It was a vicious cycle that didn’t end until the day he came home.

Today, I still enjoy some time on my own, but now I use the time to rejuvenate and reconnect with my true self. I spend a lot of time in introspective thoughts and I usually do extra meditation beyond the 30 minutes I already do every day. I rarely sit home. Even if I’m alone, I get out of the house and enjoy all the day has to offer. For example, today I took my lunch to the park and ate outside, soaked in the sun and spent some time on a few items that had been on my “to do” list for a little too long. It’s been a great day that hasn’t involved bingeing or eating flour or sugar. Beyond today, I spent most of my non-work hours this past week with family, friends and fellows. Being with others has made the time without Todd fly by, and I know Wednesday will be here before I know it. And then we’ll be back together again–until Friday–when I leave on business for D.C.(smile)! Hmmmm, which brings up a whole different issue –the traveling food addict. I think I’ve got my post for next week. Stay tuned!

I Say the Darnest Things . . . to Myself

Even on a good day, life inside of my head can be a dangerous place. Although now, thanks to some recovery, I am better equipped to sort through a lot of the mind clutter and chatter that used to drive me to eat. Of course there are still times (more than I’d like) when the thoughts in my head are ruled by fear and doubt.

I recently had an epiphany on a day when my thoughts were heavily clouded by fear and doubt. Right in the middle of my inner voice telling me: I couldn’t, I shouldn’t and that “they” would never, I suddenly realized there was only one voice of doubt, and that voice belonged to me. I’m not sure why it took me so long to come to this realization, or why this lesson came to me on this particular day, but I am grateful to have experienced it. Eliminating this voice, which is judgmental, hypercritical and sometimes downright mean, will require reprogramming my mind so it sees the possibilities in life instead of the obstacles.

In journaling about how to approach this task, I came across a list I made a few years ago when I first started in recovery. The list includes the many, many ways my inner voice shows up in my actions and behavior. After three years, I’ve learned how to quiet some aspects of my inner voice, but I was surprised how many aspects remain active today. I guess I still have some layers of the onion to peel. Here’s the list.

The Liar
o Uncomfortable with reality
o Insecure, unsure about ones owns thoughts and feelings
o Wants everything to be okay – wants to protect against shame, quilt, etc.

The Entertainer
o Helps me appear to me more than I am (extravagant, opulent)
o Wants to impress, make others envious (look at all I have)
o Is a seeker of praise

The Organizer
o Provides a distraction from other things in life
o Gives me a sense of order, well-being
o Forces me to disapprove of or loathe chaos . . . I’m no good without a plan)

The Fixer
o Provides a sense of pride. My thoughts toward others, “you poor soul” or “I’m so glad I am not you”
o Prevailing thought – if someone has a problem, fix it
o Allows me the ability to ignore or downplay my own problems

The Good Girl
o Wants praise for being good, following the rules
o Afraid of the consequences of being bad
o Operates out of fear
o If you’re a “good girl” you can have ________

The Clown
o Wants to make others feel comfortable
o Allows me to keep people at a distance
o Openly promotes self loathing behavior – make fun of myself before others can

The Bitch
o Born out of resentment
o Rooted in anger
o Keeps people at a distance
o Makes me appear tougher than I am (don’t have to show pain, disappointment)

The Cynic/Critic/Judge
o Always has something to say about myself and others
o In bringing others down, I feel better about myself

The Addict
o Provides comfort through food
o Allows me to avoid pain, hurt, discomfort
o Doesn’t understand that actions have consequences
o Is one of (if not) the strongest member of the boardroom

The Buyer
o Provides material comfort when food isn’t working, isn’t available
o Is a distraction from the real problem
o Makes me feel good if only for a moment
o Like the addict, it doesn’t understand consequences (debt, etc.)

The People Pleaser/Cheerleader
o Just wants to be liked
o Doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings
o Often sought through material items (buying affection through gifts)

The Overachiever
o Over compensated for low self-esteem, felt I needed to be better than
o Born out of insecurity, fear that I couldn’t measure up
o Always felt that the “yard stick” was different for me

The Loner
o Doesn’t want to be around other people
o Other people get in the way of what we want to do (i.e. participate in addictive behavior)
o Is depressed and wants to sulk, doesn’t want to have to fake happiness for the sake of others

The Competitor
o Wants to win at all cost
o Doesn’t like the feeling of being less than
o Carves the attention of being the winner, or the best of
o Wants others to feel less than

The Hater
o Uncontrolled anger, comes on quickly and is over-the-top for the situation
o Short fuse, wants others to pay for their behavior
o Has a strong sense of “you did me wrong”

The Fixator/Obsessor
o Is goal oriented
o Sets unattainable goals by always moving the bar, I get close and the goal changes
o Obsessive about numbers, weight, etc.

“Seeing” and honoring myself means quieting MORE aspects of my inner voice and in doing so I have faith that I will experience life anew–without fear and doubt.

Complexity is Fraud

About a month ago, around tax time, I heard political satirist P.J. O’Rourke on NPR talking about the complexity of the U.S. tax system and he said something that resonated with me, not about our tax code, but about my life at the time. He said, “complexity is fraud.” The minute I heard this phrase it rang true to me.

As I celebrate three years in recovery (on May 14–tomorrow), I realize the more complex I try to make my life the less genuine it becomes. Plus when life gets to be too busy, or too much, my old ways start to creep back in.

I know that complexity and busyness are not my friends no matter how cool I think they are, and no matter how much I want them to be my BFFs they never will be. I’m a self-described perfectionist, layer on some complexity with a healthy dose of busyness and I’m spinning in a million different directions. Not to mention, I’m completely miserable because in my life where complexity thrives, perfection dies. My ego is a mess, I’m a mess, and my program is usually is a mess too. The term “easy does it” is one of those 12-step slogans that I used to roll my eyes at. The first time I heard it I thought, “these addicts are a bunch of f**king wimpy freaks, who clearly don’t know that there’s entirely too much going on in my life for easy does it.”

Needless to say, I’ve been thrown the “easy does it” lesson a few times now. It keeps coming back to me like a bad penny. In my experience, you don’t get past a lesson until you’ve learned it (and in some cases earned it), so the universe keeps throwing it back to you, a little harder each time. This time around the “easy does it” lesson was a challenge.

It all started because I was coasting along in recovery. I had hit one of those places where I thought I had it all figured out, so I started to take on more stuff, I started to pull away from my higher power, I started to miss some of my committed meetings and before you knew it I was chewing sugarless gum again. That’s right, gum, not food, but gum. Thankfully, I wasn’t stupid enough to pick up flour and sugar, but I was stupid enough during a meeting at work to accept a piece of gum from a coworker. When I took it, I thought, “I can have a piece of gum it’s been eight months since I had a stick, what’s the harm?” Well a few weeks later, with sores in my mouth and a sore jaw from all the chewing, plus $150 spent on gum, I had to come to the realization that it was either time to recommit to my program or the food would clearly be next.

Some of you reading this may think, “gum, really?” And the answer is, yes, I couldn’t put it down, I was clearly using it addictively for the sweet hit it gave me when I popped it in my mouth. I know how this works. Today gum, tomorrow an entire gallon of ice cream. I have travelled this path before, except before I didn’t come clean and the gum obsession led me to the food. This time, my gum obsession is leading me back to my program. I came clean with my sponsor, Todd and a few fellows about my struggles and I put the gum down. And I’ve recommitted myself to a clean program that doesn’t include gum. So I’m recommitted. . .yet again. I have to remind myself that my commitment to recovery should be renewed everyday so that I don’t take it for granted, so I don’t coast, so I don’t get too busy and miss the red flag (in this case gum) and go straight for the food. Everyday I must renew the vow to treat my body with respect and care and abstain from flour and sugar. . . and gum.

While P.J. O’Rourke, the good libertarian that he is may say, “complexity is fraud.” This libertarian-leaning addict finally is understanding the importance of “easy does it.” Take it from me, slow down, stay true and recommit yourself everyday to a life without addiction!

Are You There Higher Power? It’s Me, the Food Addict.

When I was 11 years old, I fondly remember reading Judy Blume’s aptly written teenage novel,  “Are You There God?  It’s Me Margaret.”  For those of you who never had the pleasure of reading this rite of passage into teenage-dom, it tells the story of a prepubescent girl, named Margaret, who in order to cope with all  the scary physical and emotional changes happening in her life prays and asks God to make everything normal and okay.

For a good part of my life, pray was clumsy and haphazard at best, and like the fictional Margaret, it only occurred to me to pray if I needed something.  It was never to show gratitude or show piety, instead it was because something wasn’t happening the way I wanted it to,  so I’d beg God to make it different.  Or I did something that I wasn’t proud of and I wanted to unload the guilt and shame, so I’d plead with God to take it.  But most of all I’d pray to be thin.  I would make promise after to promise to do whatever God wanted if he’d only make me thin.

Well it took long enough, but after years and years of making and breaking promises to my higher power, God did make me thin, but not before taking me on one hell of a rollercoaster ride.   A ride that went straight through hell and back again.

So when I first came into 12-step recovery, three years ago looking for a cure for my food addiction I was a broken spirit and the last thing I was looking for was a relationship with a higher power.  I never thought such a relationship was necessary in order to get well even though the idea of God (a higher power) was weaved into every step of recovery.  I resisted the idea of reaching out to something I couldn’t see, I didn’t know and who I felt had let me fall one too many times.  I had no faith and I certainly had no idea how much reliance on a higher  power would one day help restore me to sanity.

In recovery, I have come to realize that my prayers to be thin were only answered after I became broken enough to toss my old ways of self-reliance and self-will out the window and decided to give the whole “God” thing a try.  It wasn’t easy at first and it still isn’t today.  There are still many, many days when I forget to let go and let God, but I try every single day to re-enforce the idea that my recovery isn’t about doing it alone, which is why I have quiet conversations with my higher power everyday.  And during those time of quiet conversation I ask for and usually receive an abundance of strength from a God that I have not fully come to know.  Sometimes I’m not even sure I should call my higher power God.  It’s an uneasy relationship for me, but one that doesn’t seem to bother my higher power who continues to show up in my life as long as I commit to do my 1 percent –everyday.  And that 1 percent means working the steps.  It means doing my program to the best of my ability.  It means staying abstinent because without my abstinence food becomes my God and I quickly start relying on my self-will instead of God’s will for me.

Self-reliance has gotten many an addict into trouble and I’m no different.  I always thought if I could “just say no” or if I could just have more will power that I could put the food down, but it was never that easy.  Self-reliance got me nowhere, but fatter and more miserable than I was before.

Now, I constantly fight the urge to fall back into self-will, and instead, I’ve adopted a new slogan, “Your will, not mine be done.”

So, if you’re reading this and your struggling to put the food down, for a moment, close your eyes and connect with the energy, the spirit that surrounds you.  It’s there, trust me.  Your higher power can be whatever you tap into.  It doesn’t have to be a man, with long white hair and a flowing robe who is sitting atop a giant throne, it can be whatever you need it to be.  Just get out of your head and slowly let go of the thought that you can put down the food on your own, because there’s a good chance you can’t or won’t.  Your will, not mine be done.

Is Sugar Toxic?

A couple of weeks ago CBS’ 60 Minutes ran a story that asked, “Is Sugar Toxic?” If you missed the story when it ran, here’s a link to it: http://www.cbsnews.com/video/watch/?id=7403942n

Additionally, if you want to see the video from the doctor who is featured in the story, Robert H. Lusting, MD, Professor of Pediatrics at the University of California at San Francisco you can view it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dBnniua6-oM

Needless to say, I was glued to the boob tube because I wanted to know if all the “work” I’ve been doing in recovery might actually have an added health benefit. And well, it turns out that the answer to that question could be yes. Yes, I could be doing really good things for my body by avoiding the white granular stuff. To that I say, amen and hallelujah.

I’ve known for a long time that sugar is toxic to me, which is why I was fascinated to learn that others are starting to look at the sweet compound as harmful to humans. In fact, some researchers believe that it could be the leading cause of certain types of cancers, as well as an active contributor to the holy trinity of modern-day conditions: diabetics, heart disease and obesity. Of course not many people will be shocked to hear that sugar (the best friend of high calorie, high fatty foods) may play a role in these diseases, but they may be shocked to know that it plays a major role! I’m hoping that with more research and more exposure in the mainstream media that more and more people will sit up and take note that we all need to be more food conscience because we certainly aren’t today. Don’t believe me? Sit in a Starbucks, an airport or any other public place for 30 minutes and count the number of overweight or obese people who walk in the door. It’s amazing what sugar has done to our bodies!

Of course there will always be those who argue that the findings brought to light in the 60 Minutes story are exaggerated. There’s a good chance they would argue that humans have consumed sugar without harm for decades so how can it be toxic now? It may be true that sugar has been a staple of modern man for hundreds of years, but clearly during the past several decades humans (primarily Americans) have completely changed how we consume food, how we manufacture food (yes, manufacture–read a food label of any processed food item and it’s easy to see that most of us couldn’t reproduce it in our own kitchens if we tried) and how and where we purchase food. It’s clear that food today is sugar dense and fiber poor, which has led to the surge in obesity rates in our country and around the world as other countries begin to adopt the American way of eating. Seems like food addict or not, we all might want to pay a little more attention to the amount of sugar we consume.

It’s Never Too Late

I recently finished making amends to a number of people who I had harmed while actively living life as a food addict. If you aren’t familiar with the 12-Steps, here’s a very brief primer on Step 8, which is the Step that deals with making amends. When people in recovery reach Step 8 they are required to make a list of all persons they harmed and become willing to make amends to them all. Essentially, the addict is claiming his/her behavior and apologizing for it. Since so many of us love to admit when we are wrong, this sounds like fun, right? Not exactly. I’m not going to lie, the 10th Step was difficult; however, I found the time I put into making amends was time well spent because it freed up an enormous amount of head space.

While making amends, I was fortunate in that nearly all the people I had to speak with were still alive, except for one person, and that turned out to be the most difficult amends I had to make. Th amends was to my grandfather who passed away a few years ago. I think it was the most difficult because I’ll never know if he heard my apologize. I’ll never know if he would have forgiven my actions. While this is extremely personal, I decided to include the letter I wrote to him as part of this post. My reason for doing this is because I believe if I share these words with others they will no longer belong only to me, which will allow me to let go and let God take this message to my grandfather.

Dear Grandpa,

Not long after Grandma died I wrote you a very critical and inappropriate letter. At the time, I didn’t realize the inappropriateness of the letter, I thought I had every right to put my words to paper and I didn’t think twice about how they might impact you or what it would mean to the future of our relationship. In fact, there was a certain sense of pride I had in writing the letter. It’s been many years now, but I vaguely remember thinking, “I’ll show him who’s strong, who’s smart and who’s holding all the cards in this relationship.” Not sure I accomplished any of those things, but I wanted to hurt your feelings, and hurt you bad. I didn’t like you much. Forget that I didn’t know you well, to me you were a hard person to know. Plus, I made many, many assumptions about the person you had been and the person you were at the time I wrote the letter. To me you always appeared distance and cold. Unfortunately, I never took the time or opportunity to get to know you, to get close to you, or try to dismantle the uncaring persona I had created of you.

Instead I used the letter to take you to task for many things including how you treated and disrespected my mom on many occasions and I was critical of your relationship with your other children and grandchildren. Essentially, I was taking it upon myself to tell you, a man, a very capable man, who had nearly five decades more of life experience under his belt then I did how he should be living his life.

The truth is I had no business writing and sending you this letter. And I certainly had no business telling you how to live your life and for that I am truly sorry. Additionally, I’m sorry that I never got to tell you this in person, but the truth was I was selfish and very much living in my addiction while you were alive. An addiction that had run amuck at the time I wrote the letter and one that had me convinced that I had every right to tell others what was right and what was wrong. I have since come to know that that thinking is completely and undeniably wrong. Today I truly believe in my heart that you were doing the best you could then and for the entire time that our lives intersected. It was unfair of me to ask or assume that you could do any better than your best.

Unfortunately, my addiction led me to make several poor decisions, but the decision I made to send you the letter has plagued me for many years. And now, in recovery I’m working to correct some of the wrongs I committed against others, so when it came time to list all the persons I had harmed your name came to mind immediately. It feels good to write this letter, I’d like to think that you would have accepted my apology, but it will always bother me that I didn’t get to speak with you face-to-face about those cruel words I wrote so long ago.

Today, I have a better understanding and appreciation for the person you were and the decisions you made. Thank you for all the things you did for my family. Do I wish things could have been different? Of course, but life happened for you (and it’s happening for me) just as it is supposed to, so I have no regrets other than I never really saw the light in you that today I know exists in every one I meet. So if I had the chance to say one last thing to you it would be “namaste” which loosely translated means, “the light in me recognizes the light in you.”

With love and appreciation,
Susan

Hair Trigger

Nearly everyday last week I felt like my right hand was firmly wrapped around the barrel of gun I knew had a hair trigger. I was familiar with the gun and the trigger because I had fired that gun (fully loaded) at myself many times before.

The term “hair trigger” is often used to describe what happens when we react to the slightest provocation or stimulation, and last week, there appeared to be something waiting to provoke me at every turn. Something just waiting to drive my stress level through the roof, and leave me with feelings of uneasiness, uncertainty and anxiety. Typically, when I feel these types of emotions, the first thing I want to do is pull the trigger, which for me means ingesting a gluttonous amount of flour and sugar in the hopes of making those uneasy, uncomfortable feelings disappear. Of course pulling the trigger (eating) never works, but there’s still a flash of hope in my addict mind that if I eat, everything will be better.

Starting last Monday morning, and lingering late into the evening on Friday, I felt challenged. This barrage of daily (mostly made-up) challenges made me want to eat. From a tear-filled goodbye after a fun-filled weekend with my sister (she lives in Michigan and we only get to see each other a handful of times each year) to a very stressful workweek. Everything, my every thought, seemed to be lined up against me, begging me to pull the trigger.

Thankfully, I resisted the urge to harm myself, I never gave into my anxiousness and I never carelessly threw my abstinence into the nearest rain gutter, but I really, really wanted to and I could have if I didn’t have the tools I needed to stop myself from doing something that I would later regret—eat flour and sugar.

The silliness of my behaviors and actions during the week came to head for me on Saturday evening after sharing a meal with several friends who are also food addicts. During our conversation, I was reminded about all the hardships and happenings others in my 12-Step program have endured, yet managed to stay abstinent through, including the loss of a home, the loss of a spouse, the loss of a parent, personal illnesses or other extremely challenging and emotion situations. Clearly, if the fellows we spoke about could remain abstinent through such difficult ordeals I could stay abstinent through a week that, when I started to look back on, really wasn’t all that horrific, no matter how much I perceived it to be at the time. My challenging situations were easily rectified. My sister will be back to visit me in September (and I’ll see her again at Thanksgiving). Work is work. I am not my job. And no matter how much things seemed screwed up at the office, I have a job and I get paid a decent amount of money every two weeks to show up Monday through Friday to do my part. I need to stop sweating the small stuff and quash that dastardly ego of mine, otherwise, it spends way too much time creating crap for me to obsess about.

At the end of the day, I started to realize that even if none of these things-–my tools or thoughts of others who have survived more challenging times with their abstinence intact, I can (and often do) have one final thing at my disposal, I can pull out my fat pictures and ask myself: do I want to be trapped in a morbidly obese body at 344 lbs with an out-of-control ego?

Or do I want to be in a right size body, with a “mostly” right size ego that from time to time allows a sane thought or two take to root?

I’m not sure whether it was the vanity (those fat pictures) or the sanity (my program) that won out last week, all I know is I didn’t eat, and tonight I get to go to bed with that handgun gun safely holster, a food crisis avoided, and my abstinence in check for today, and hopefully tomorrow.

The Last Bite

A few weeks ago, during one of my 12-step meetings, I was a bit awestruck when I heard one of my fellows mention that she no longer thinks about how the “first bite” of a flour/sugar item might taste, but instead she thinks about the “last bite.” I thought this was clever. In fact, her “last bite” concept has gotten me through many trying times during the past few weeks especially when I was overly tired and/or stressed and found myself lingering too long around food I don’t eat. See my friend, who’s been abstinent for many years, shared a very valuable lesson that all food addicts would be wise to heed: no matter how much you fantasize and imagine how amazing the “first bite” of anything will taste—it won’t be your only bite. After all, the First Step is all about “admitting powerlessness over our addiction.” If I had the “power” to stop at one bite, there’s a very good chance that I won’t be an addict; however, the cold, hard fact is that one bite of flour and sugar is never enough for me. Once I start, I can’t stop. Case in point, the last time I gave into my fantasies about food it took me 10 months and a 70 lbs. weight gain before I took my “last bite.”

Even though I’ve been abstinent from flour and sugar for more than a year now, I still fantasize about how something will taste. Sometimes I even dream about food, but lately when these thoughts or dreams seep into the dark corners of my mind I’ve applied the “last bite” concept and it seems to work. Even so, I must admit that there are still days when I long for just one bite of a cookie, a small bite of cake, or just a little piece of warm, buttered bread, yet the trouble with these thoughts is that if I entertain them for too long eventually that first bite turns into a check list in my head of all the things I’d like to eat. From chocolate and donuts, to chips and onion rings, the list of foods I’d gladly sell my soul for is pages and pages long (I’m not kidding). In fact, right before I went on that 10-month food bender I mentioned above, I made a nearly three-page (single-spaced) list of all the things I would eat if I lost my abstinence. No surprise, within two days of drawing up my Magna Carte of food, I broke my abstinence and I was over indulging in the sugary, floury plethora of items on my list.

In the first few weeks, I made myself sick on food, throwing up almost daily because I had eaten more than my stomach could process. I had spent hundreds of dollars, that’s right, hundreds of dollars on food–easily. Shoveling it in, enormous bite, after enormous bite. I was on a rampage, a holy terror to consume all the things I’d written on my list, and the worse part, after I gorged myself to the point where I couldn’t possibly eat another bite, I’d shove more food in my mouth, only (minutes later) to find myself slumped over the toilet, crying and arching from the pain I caused my body. Sometimes it hurt so bad that I prayed for God to help me, and promised, “I will never eat this way again.” This promise was always short-lived. I don’t think during that 10-month ordeal I ever made it 24 hours without over-consuming food. I was in a place I’d never been with my addiction-–rock, rock bottom–little did I know that all it took was a “first bite” and with that I was forced to spend 10 months in a self-created, food-induced hell.

Today, and every day I try (some days I’m more successful than others) not to entertain food thoughts—I really, really try not to fantasize, and I think through the bite and about how long it could take for me to put the food down again if I picked it up, or worse yet, if I could even put the food down. See, I’m not sure I have any more recoveries in me, therefore, I don’t need to temp my addict with thoughts and fantasies of food. One thing I’d definitely NEVER, EVER do today (and hopefully won’t ever again) is put pen to paper and allow my addict to run amuck and list food item after food item of food I’d like to eat. Doing that is harmful to me, and it’s a slap in the face to my loved ones, who don’t want to see me suffer like that again. The only one who wins with that crazy list of food items is the addict and my addict has won enough battles for a lifetime, it’s time for the clean and abstinent me to continue racking up the victories. So if you’re thinking of taking a “first bite” of anything today consider taking a moment to think through the bite. Can you stop after just one bite?