Reaching for... what?

Why am I trying to recover from compulsive overeating?

I already wrote "the list," but that was all about weight.  I've come to realize that my recent 'success' (following my most recent binge) with my OA program has been mired in a sense of defeat, a sense of complete and unconditional surrender.  I canNOT control my food, so I kind of gave up.  Yes, it was great not to be as tempted to eat off my planned food for the day, and yes, it's great to stick to my commitments about exercising and food, but there was still this pervasive sense of ...loss.  Indeed, I even began to feel deep feelings of grief, mourning the loss of the delusion that I ever controlled my life at all.

But I had let go of the food, and I was left with nothing in my hands.  I had let go of my anchor and was floating freely, ready for another wave to wash me into turbulent and dangerous waters.

That wave came soon, and it was bad news about my brother.  I won't elaborate, but it's a wave of emotional pain that I cannot fix, cannot stop feeling, and can only make worse if I do just about anything.  I've admitted to being insane, and part of that was an intense desire to make everything and everything around me "right" and "ok."  That meant bending over backwards (in my mind) to help (ahem, force) my mom to clean her house and belittle my brother for his life choices (for his own good, and he needed to hear the truth even if it was an ugly thing for me to say).  It saddens me to write this, since at one time those thoughts were at the front of my mind.

I'm getting ahead of myself, but I already know that those closest to me are the ones to whom I owe the most amends.  I hurt them with words and actions more times than I can count because I was intent on "saving" them from how they had "messed up their own lives." 

Not arrogant at all, right?

I spent a Saturday evening ruminating about my brother, wallowing in the sadness and helplessness.  And then I got angry.  I got angry with having to follow this stupid program and what the hell is the point in losing weight if I can't do any good and why should I care… etc. I ate about twice as much as I normally do for dinner, plus a couple snacks, but it didn't take long for me to admit that the food wasn't making me any better either.  It definitely felt like a temper tantrum.

I realized I had let go of the food, but not taken hold of anything else.  I had been filling an emotional void in me with food for years, and now without the food I wasn't filling it with anything else either. I can't just sit and wade in the water, anchor-less; I need a raft or at least the tiny tip of a nearby island that I can set my sights on and swim for.

I read back over my "list."  This stuck out: "Life… I want to be a part of it."

What am I striving for?  What, on bad days, will keep me pointed in the right direction rather than being lured away by the false security of food?  LIFE. 

No guarantees that it will get easier or that I will be successful.  No guarantees that I will be happy all the time.

(but I don't get that from the food either.  I didn't really get anything from the food - it just helped me feel better about not living my life.  It gave me an excuse not to go out and DO things. It also turned me into a very selfish and not nice person to be around)

What I DO get is the ability - no, the privilege - to PARTICIPATE in my life.  It is a wondrous gift to be given this particular body and mind in this particular country and time. I have a great job, am saving for my dreams, and have a loving circle of people around me who, despite my efforts to prove them brainless for doing so, love me for who I am.  Why do I hide in misery of food compulsion and bingeing and being so overweight that even my patients make remarks?

Here's my revelation for today: I WANT TO LIVE. And I can do that more effectively without the food. I can swim for that. 

Missteps

So I come back to writing. Blogging. That tool that I love so much but neglect so quickly…. After a slip.

A few weeks ago I went to the Region 4 conference of OA.  It was amazing, eye-opening, and one of the most lovely weekends I've spent in a long time (See "Convention!"). But it also put me out of my element and plopped me into a large city and a large group of strangers.  Even though we were all of the same mind and had so many things in common, I still am inevitably nervous in large crowds - especially when I'm being "just me" and not "professional Sarah" or "academic Sarah" or "singing in choir Sarah."  That's the funny thing: I can sing or present academic/professional material fine in front of people, but the minute I am just being myself in that group (without the extra purpose or "hat" I put on), I self-destruct.  I had a few moments where I just had to be alone and hid in my hotel room, took a walk outside (in a large city, at dusk, alone) or hid in the bathroom. I spoke to some people, but was so nervous on a few occasions that I started hyperventilating and crying. *sigh*

[This was also the reason I went back to my doctor and asked to trial another antidepressant/anti-anxiety med… I know this is more than your average levels of fear.  On the bright side, Wellbutrin is NOT a devil drug for me.]

But still, it was quite a wonderful weekend, and that's what got me. 

I had just spent two weeks running on empty/burning the candle at both ends/whatever cliché works for you.  I had been, once more, ridiculously busy at work, and maintaining abstinence was the only thing keeping me together.  I clung to my food plan like it was the thread keeping me from falling off the cliff edge I was dangling from.  Then I had a fun relaxing weekend surrounded by happy, recovering people (who also talked a lot about food and food plans).  I started to compare my recovery to theirs, my food plan to his or hers, and I started to cheat.  After a few days of cheating and "getting away with it," I went from zero to binge in the space of a heartbeat.

Fifty minutes into a full-on binge, after eating I don't know how many days' worth of eggs, bread, cheese, crackers, barbecued beef, and a lot of other things, I started to shake.  For one, I was on the verge of being physically ill because I was so stuffed.  But I was terrified that, even as I was contemplating whether I needed to use the trash can to puke or if I could make it to the toilet in time, I was still eating. 

I was still eating and I could not make myself stop. 

My mom finally came home, and I basically had to ask her to take the food out of my hands.  And then I lost it.  I cried and shook and curled up in despair and shame and disgust.  I had let my guard down because I was happy, and I let my disease catch up with me when I wasn't looking.

But I had also, truly, in my heart, taken the first step. 

"We admitted we were powerless over food — that our lives had become unmanageable."

I then cried out to God in desperation to save me from this insanity. I am sick, and I and doctors and medications can't save me, so I have to ask that Someone with the only real power.

[Ahem, step Two]

And I started reaching for my OA tools and listening (well, trying to listen) to my higher power, because I obviously could not trust what my brain decides what is a good idea.  I became willing to do whatever was necessary to avoid ever living through that pain again.  I passed up on extra servings not because I didn't think I could get away with it, but because they weren't on my food plan for that day. I even went through a period of grieving - not for the food, but for the delusion that I ever was in control of my life at all.

[..aaaaaannd Step Three]

What I started that day and that week was a realization that the Twelve Steps are not simply a predetermined/prescripted set of rules I have to follow.  Instead, they are a natural progression that a human being takes when s/he is faced with the crippling, life-destroying disease of addiction.  I began to take the steps on my own because one naturally leads to the next, and they make my life a little easier to bear one day at a time.  They make me a better person.

(More on this later!)