Lucid Madness

 STEP ONE: 
We admitted we were powerless over food - that our lives had become unmanageable.

 ========== 

What have I tried to lose weight?  God knows I’ve tried to fix these things in the past, with many different mainstream diet plans/clubs/books/makeovers.  Each time I was met with failure.  I was plucking the dandelion, only to see another pop up, over and over again.  I never dug up the root…  I know, now, and believe in my heart that God can do for me what I cannot do for myself.  No plan, no club, no book and no makeover.  I am convinced that OA and God hold the key - not to losing weight - but to healing my hurts, which is what I really need.

==========

What foods give me trouble - what do I binge on?  Sugar and breakfast foods. I believe that I was on the right track by eliminating sugar in my initial food plan.  Sugar is a biggie for me and it has been the constant comfort and struggle throughout my life.

==========

How do I use food to escape life’s problems?  

From a very early age, I learned food to be comfort.  One of my earliest and bestest memories is getting to stay up late to wait for Mom to come home after a late shift at the hospital.  When she got home, we made popcorn and as the corn was popping, we  warmed our hands on the lid of the popper.  It was one on one time with my mom.  It was special.  When we moved from the east coast, mom started a day care.  This was her job - but among other things, that woman cooked all the time.  Three meals a day, plus she had to feed the kids a snack, so every day after school, there was always a snack waiting for us.  At home I was safe and there was always food.  Home = safe.  Home = food.  Safe = food. 

I supposed now, since mom died, I view food as a connection to her.  She taught me to cook.  We spent many hours baking and cooking - those were our special times.  We didn’t spend special time bike riding or hiking or sewing or reading or writing or coloring.  Our special times revolved around food.  Not always, but more often than not.

When my uncle died in ‘87, we were all sad and people brought us food.  So we sat around, mourning for a week and eating.  People brought us food to make us feel better.  They didn’t give us a shoulder to cry on, they didn’t sit down and talk to us about how we were feeling.  They just brought food - and lots of it.  People did this every time someone died.  So I guess, as a youngster, it was easy to make a correlation - when you’re sad you should eat a lot of food.  I don’t think I ever conciously made that connection, but sub-conciously I certainly did.

So if food can make you happy when you’re sad, then it can probably make you happy when you’re mad too.  Hell - food just makes me happy.  So - as a child I learned that food = happiness and for that reason, what better way to escape feeling anything but happy.

==========

These Step Work topics courtesy of “The Twelve-Step Workbook of Overeaters Anonymous”

STEP ONE: 
We admitted we were powerless over food - that our lives had become unmanageable.

…continuing a first step inventory of my compulsive eating history…

After I lost all that weight near the end of my high school years, I kept it off for several years.  I did it with a combination of binging and starving.  My most clear memories are when I worked in a state office.  I would skip breakfast, then mid-morning a few of us would take turns each day running to McDonald’s for breakfast.  I often volunteered to go - and it wasn’t because I was nice.  When I was the runner, I would buy myself 2 breakfast sandwiches.  I would eat one on the way back to the office - I’d wish for red lights so I didn’t have to eat it fast but if I got greens I’d just gobble it up - barely taking time to breath.  Upon returning to the office, I would stash the evidence under the seat, then innocently return with my one little sandwich and no one was the wiser.  This behavior is still with me today.

Next I met AB - he was a jock from high school and he was interested in ME.  I was so blinded by the fact that the fat girl could get this jock, that we quickly hooked up and moved in together.  Now this one, aside from drinking too much, too often and occassionally doing drugs, he also could not hold down a job.  I supported his ass while I desperately tried to fix him.  I was a single mom supporting my son and a 20-something year-old man.  It was too much for my little salary from the state and my part-timing at a retail store.  I started stealing $ from the store just to get by.  I finally dumped this one when I lost my job because they suspected the stealing.

After that, I dated a lot (hell - I was hot - why not take advantage of it!?) - looking for all the wrong things in all the wrong places.  This is also when I sort of turned things around in the relationship department.  I was tired of being the one getting hurt and used and I was determined not to let it happen again.  It was MY turn now.  I would literally walk into the bar on the weekends and some weekday nights too with enough $ for one beer.  After that I flirted and used my way into free beers for the rest of the night.  I was good at finding the suckers too…shopping trips, clothes…whatever I wanted I could pretty much get.  I ended up hurting some guys that probably deserved it, but there was one that didn’t deserve it at all.  When he confronted me, I recognized the look in his eyes.  I knew what he was feeling.  To this day I remember the look and I still feel guilty about it.  His name was Shane.  He is such a good guy and deserves so much better.  Perhaps one day I will have the chance to tell him how sorry I am…

My drinking continued and I changed up my relationship methodology again.  I tried to convince myself that I was in control - but I wasn’t.  I was completely out of control.  It was the no-strings sex stage.  If there were no strings [feelings] then no one would get hurt.  Not me, not my conquest.  Problem solved (or so I thought).

Then I met Cap.  We became the best of friends.  We hung out together every. single. day.  He would come over around 6 and we’d just hang out - watch TV, play with B, play video games, play guess the moldy food as we cleaned out my refrigerator.  I really liked him - but he was nothing like anyone I’d every been out with.  He was very shy, very innocent, not very outgoing in the romance department and he was just a nice guy.  He was there because he liked me - not because he wanted sex or a free ride or someone to take care of him.  He was just there to enjoy my company.  Strange…  So we continued on as friends.  We both wanted more, but I was fast, he was slow and we just never really sync’d up.  Then I heard that he was going to move to Chicago.  At the time I didn’t know that it was just a bunch of talk - he had no real plans to go.  BUT - it hit me and it hit me hard.  I was devastated.  I thought I meant something to him and now he was leaving me.  We didn’t ever talk about it until years later, but this is when I decided to run…I didn’t have anything or anyone to stick around for.  When I left, Cap felt the same way I had - that I had abandoned him and our friendship and he up and moved to the west coast.

So at this point I’m in a different city.  I met a guy, KC, and we moved in together.   It was a doomed relationship from the start - I was just lonely and needy.  He, like men from prior relationships, was an addict.  This time it wasn’t drugs or alcohol, it was porn.  For me, with such low self-esteem myself, the porn was really a kick in the teeth.  I saw it as an addiction, and having been familar with the 12 steps and codependency, I knew I couldn’t fix him, but I tried anyway.  We quickly drifted apart.  The move, the relationship, it was all too much change for me and this is when I began to put on weight.  There was also something else here between me, KC and God that I, to this day, haven’t resolved in my heart and it weighs heavy on my soul.  The bottom line is that I ate and ate and ate, and grew and grew and grew.  All the time I thought it was him and that if I just fixed HIM everything would be okay.  Today, I realize that it was my self-hatred, insecurities, shame and depression.  I hated myself and I hated my life.  I continued with the binging and I dropped the periods of starvation that balanced everything in some sick way.

Nothing has changed since then.  My depression has lingered, my self-hatred is still here, I have a lot of guilt over a lot of things.  I eat so I don’t have to feel these things…  It’s time to begin feeling the feelings and dealing with the feelings.

I took some time for ME today!  It felt great.

Everyone was busy doing their own thing.  I planted myself in the backyard, in the sun with a glass of iced tea and read from the brown book.  It was peaceful, warm and a slight breeze blew.  As I read and empathized with each story-teller, I felt closer to God than I have in a long time.  When I finished reading, I closed my eyes, laid my head back and talked with God.

My life of late has been so chaotic.  Chaos at work, at home, in my blog.  I’ve felt unsettled, restless and confused.  I’ve felt as thought I was running around in circle literally.  I didn’t know what to, when to do it or how to get started.  Today I feel like I have gained some clarity that has been desperately absent.  I feel a sense of peace about where I am today…finally!

Thank you, God, for today.  For the messages that were so clearly delivered. 
I can’t fix everything, nor can I fix everything today. 
All I can do is take responsibility for me…
 And only for today.

My maternal grandparents were in town yesterday for a doctor’s appointment.  They always call when they’re in town and we go out to eat and visit.  When we were out yesterday, grandma told a couple of memories from when the kids (my mom and her siblings) were young.  I asked her if she ever did much writing.  She said that she really didn’t unless it was a letter.  I told her that if the mood ever struck her that I would really love for her to write down some of her memories - a history of sorts of our family.  I never knew any of my great grandparents - they all died fairly young apparently.  Anyway - I told her that I’d love to know more about mom’s early years - any little memories that she can share would be like gold to me.

She said that she just might do it.  Seemed to think she’d have plenty of time while ‘resting’ which she said she does a lot of these days.  I told her if she writes anything that I would be happy to type it up and then we could share it with all the grandkids.  I told her I thought it would be so valuable to the majority of us since most of the grandkids no longer have a parent to relay the stories to us. 

Only one of mom’s 4 siblings is still alive - that has to be hard for my aunt on so many levels.  I feel for her.  I used to have a special connection with her since we share a birthday, but that has faded as the years have gone by.

Anyway - I’m going to write a letter to grandma and grandpa today and thank her for considering my request and I just might drop in a few suggestions too!

I really hope she does it.  I would love it.  I truly would…

I’m still here!  I haven’t done too bad on the committment I made to myself, but I’m stuggling and once again I failed to let go and give my compulsions to my God.  I have to remember that this, above all else, is one of the most important things I can do for myself.

Doing for myself…hmph.  I haven’t given myself much time lately to do much for me.  It’s becoming more clear with each passing day that before I can move forward with this OA stuff, I have to love myself enough to give myself what I need to ‘be healthy’.  I don’t know if this is making sense - but I do for everyone before I do for me.  Taking care of this person and that person and never caring enough about myself to do for me.  I learned this behavior from my mom.  She always did for everyone, took care of everyone.  Luckily I also learned recovery from my mom.  She grew so much through her recovery for co-dependency.  I watched it happen - although I didn’t know what was going on at the time - and now thta I’ve read her journals, I see even more clearly how far she came.

I want that for myself.

I’m using The Language of Letting Go by Melody Beattie for my daily meditations.  How appropriate that today’s is titled ‘Accepting Change’.  After last night’s step work (that was just part 1 - more to come), I can see where there were major changes in my life that precipitated my compulsive overeating. 

I don’t know why, because it happens so often, but I’m once again amazed how the things I pick up to read seem to be just what I need to hear at the time.  This is my Higher Power at work.  And just as my HP gives me just what I need to read at just the right time, I have to learn to trust that He, also, will give me the changes I need at just the right time.  I must learn to embrace change, surrender to it and accept it.  I must trust that everything really does happen for a reason.  Accepting and learning from changes will get me where I’m destined to be.

Today, God, I trust you to continue giving me just what I need at just the right time.
Thank you God for all the changes that have gotten me to this day.

STEP ONE: 
We admitted we were powerless over food - that our lives had become unmanageable.

My earliest memories of food issues are from grade school.  Occassionally, I would buy Tic Tacs or any other candy that came in a handy little container of sometime.  I don’t really remember buying it for the candy - it was for the container.  I would sneak certain things from the kitchen and put them into the container.  The stuff I snuck out of the kitchen?  Sugar.  I remember putting Tang powder, Jello powder and eventually I just used pure sugar and then added an envelope of Kool-ade for flavor.  I would take those little containers to school, out to play, and I would dump the sugar straight into my mouth.  All day.  I remember hiding at recess with a couple of friends as I shared my sugary stash with them.  I don’t remember who the friends were - but I think I was like a little drug pusher.

I remember the first time I made the Kool-ade mixture.  I used cherry or fruit punch or something - it was red anyway.  When we returned to class after recess, I apparently had some bright red lips.  The Kool-ade had stained my mouth!  My teacher asked what was all over my mouth.  I remember feeling embarassed.  I hadn’t considered the staining the Kool-ade would do!  I learned.  I became better at hiding my little secret concoction.

After 5th grade, we moved.  It was a hard move for me - I was at one of those ages, aside from the fact that I was fairly shy and introverted.  I remember always having candy in 6th grade.  I remember hiding candy and eating it secretly from 6th grade and for years to come.  One of my favorites was Tart’n'Tiny candies.  They were these little cyliner shaped sweet tart type candies.  Just smaller then the eraser on a pencil.  I used to dump boxes of these into my pockets before school.  I would eat them all day long.  I would casually put my hand in my pocket, place a candy or two into my hand, security them between my fingers, closest to the palm.  Then I would cough and politely cover my mouth, and use my tongue to pop the candies into my mouth.  Simple.  Stealthy.  Just more hiding, just more sugar.

Now - with all this talk of candy, you might think that my parents were horrible to buy me such things - but they didn’t buy it for me.  See, we always had a newspaper route.  From the time I was like 8 - we delivered newspapers and earned money for ourselves.  It wasn’t much at all - but to us it was a fortune.  My brother always banked his money (and he’s a banker now - go figure) and I always spent mine - mostly on candy (and I’m fat now - go figure).  Pay attention kids - there’s a lesson in there…

It was after we moved when I really started putting the weight on.  Before then, I always was thin - but I also played outside everyday - riding bikes, having dirt-clod fights, cowboys and indians, the Dukes of Hazard, A-Team.  My brother and I and the twin boys from down the road were always outside playing, always on the go.  After the move, I didn’t have anyone to play with.  And coming from a small little town to a big city - we couldn’t just go run around like we did before.  AND - we were really sheltered culturally - I didn’t know anything but Dolly Parton and the Oakridge Boys existed as far as music was concerned.  I again remember being embarassed - because I wasn’t ‘in the know’ like all the other ‘cool’ kids.

I was 12 by this time and made friends easily enough, but that was 6th grade.  The next year we all moved up to the junior high - so we were dumped into a school with 100s of other kids who had come from other schools.  Again I had to make friends and it was even harder this time.  Some of the better friends I’d made ended up going to the other junior high.  It was much harder to make friends now - there were so many changes.  I really clammed up.  My clothes weren’t ‘cool’ enough, I wasn’t pretty enough, and being an introvert, my personality just wasn’t brilliant enough to make others overlook those things.  I also experienced death for the first time.  My mother’s brother was hit by a train and killed.  I wrote in detail about it in this post.

During (and even before) the gradeschool sugar feasts, I can remember sneaking spoonfuls of sugar, dumping decorating sprinkles into my mouth, eating toothpaste, chewable vitamins and baby asprin.  I remember going to see my aunt when she worked for the gas company (or maybe it was an insurance company) and snatching sugar cubes.

After years of teasing from my classmates, siblings, cousins and one particular uncle, I had had enough.  I stopped eating.  I worked at Pizza Hut one summer, and besides running my ass off as a waitress, I would get up and exercise (my own little routine I made up) every morning, skipped breakfast, went to work and would snack a piece of canadian bacon here and a breadstick there - never eating much.  I didn’t count calories - I was just too busy to think about food and I was determined to get them to stop teasing me!  I lost so much weight - like 80 pounds that one summer.  It was insane - but I was loving it!  People would tell me I was too thin - that I looked sickly.  I didn’t see ‘thin’ in the mirror though - all I saw was that fat girl that I didn’t like much.  When I returned to school for my junior year - I was IT (or so I thought).

I lost my best friend that year - at the time I thought she’d abandoned me because she was jealous of my weight loss and the new attention I’d been getting.  I honestly can’t recall if that is true or not.  For all I know, it was me.  Maybe I changed and she didn’t like who I’d become?  Maybe I did something mean to her or said something I shouldn’t have.  Is this something I need to know?  Should I try to contact her and hash it out?  I’ll have to think on that one…

I maintained my low weight though my senior year and into my 20s.  I wore a size 1 prom dress - I weighed 110 pounds.  I still didn’t like myself.  I still wouldn’t wear a swimming suit without a t-shirt over it.  I still hid myself in bulky, baggy clothes.  I just didn’t realize back then how much I didn’t like myself.  And this is where Relationship Memories #1 and #2 come in.  Those memories really show how much I didn’t like myself.  What I thought I was worth.

So - there were lots of things going on there - and that’s when it started.  Unfortunately, my obsession with sugar still exists.  My poor self image still exists.  My inability to deal with difficult changes still exists.  I want to change these things.  This exploring is good for me…but now I’ll probably go cry for a bit…since I never did it then…

I’ve conciously committed to a few things regarding my program…

1.  Do step-work at least 2 times per week.
2.  Call the number for information on attending the weekly 12-step meeting
     2a.  Go to the meeting every week (it’s not OA but it’s something)
3.  Attend online meetings when possible or when support is needed
4.  Re-commit to a food plan (no one to share it with - consider finding a sponsor)
5.  Read at least 2 times per week.
6.  Daily meditation and prayer

It seems like a lot - but I think I can do it.  I want to take give myself 1 hour each day.  Just for me.  I deserve it!

I hate hate hate filing taxes.  Grrrr…  Filing taxes is especially stressful when you wait until the last day to file [oops].

A while back, Dodi told me to “Take the pink cloud abstnence when you can get it”.  Now I understand what she meant - I think.

I haven’t been abstinent for a while.  I’m not sure what happened.  I can’t put my finger on it.  It was around the time that I really needed a meeting, but the one I went to (online) I just wasn’t feeling.  I got discouraged.  I got lost.  Now, I have in no way returned to my prior level of insanity (if that makes sense - are there different levels?).  I know that if I don’t buck up and get back to my program that I will reach that level again.

I think what’s kept me halfway sane is that I never stopped believing in my God.  I never gave up…I just didn’t work as hard.  He is in my heart and on my mind daily.  It’s time to work hard again.  I haven’t gained back any weight - but I haven’t lost anymore.  I’ve been careless and, at times ate compulsively.  Still - I’m not eating as much as I once did.  The compulsive, between-meal-eating was kept to a minimum.  I have had some sugar, but only a soda here and there.  I can tell you that I haven’t been ‘white-knuckling’ it.  I’ve been making concious choices.  I decide to have a real soda instead of a diet soda.  I choose to have a bowl of fruity pebbles.  I just didn’t care.  I honest don’t know how I haven’t gained back any weight - but I thank God for that. 

I read last night from the brown OA book.  I read “Keep Coming Back:  Rozanne’s Story”  The whole writing really spoke to me.  I cried for her [me].  I hate failing.  I’ve been afraid to come back because it was admitting that I’d failed.  I forgot that no one is perfect.  I forgot that no one does it perfectly.  I forgot that I am not alone.  I also know, as Rozanne discovered, that I am only dieting if I’m not working the steps.  Working the steps is the key.  That’s where I fell down…but I’m getting back up, dusting myself off and getting back on ‘the wagon’. 

I’ve felt so overwhelmed lately.  Like there are so many things to do, so many things to deal with - memories, feelings, health, life, kids, meals, laundry, work and family.  I haven’t known where to start.  I feel the insanity.  I feel out of control.  Lately I’ve felt like eating instead of dealing, instead of feeling, instead of living.  It’s comforting.  I realize that although I’ve maintained the weight I’ve lost, my soul is lost if I am not working the steps.  I also know in my heart that by working the steps, all of these things will work themselves out.

I still believe.