"In Recovery"

Prior to recently, any time anyone happened to ask me where I was in my recovery journey, I would usually classify myself as "contemplating recovery." Recovery sounded AWESOME...for other people. I had just started referring to my food "stuff" as an eating disorder and acknowledging that this was something a diet would not fix. But for every step forward, there was a step back, it seemed...or at least a step sideways. I would stop binge eating...and then I would start tracking my food. I would stop binge eating, but then I would read all about the newest Weight Watchers program online and even fill out all the information to sign up...stopping just before I hit the "submit" button. I would stop binge eating, but I would buy twelve tank tops and a pair of jeans I didn't like from Old Navy's website, adding the tank tops to my already complete tank top collection and setting the jeans aside to donate to the Goodwill. And then I would go back to binge eating again.

I sat in therapy one day not long ago and listened to my therapist ask me, with an earnest expression on her face, "What would it feel like to treat yourself the way those of us who care about you unconditionally would want you to treat yourself?" (I am paraphrasing, but the spirit of the conversation is still there.) And for some reason, that question spoke to me. I had never considered that there might be someone out there (no matter how many times I had been faced with evidence of this) who might care about how I was treating myself. I had never really heard someone say to me, "I care about how you are treating yourself" (in so many words), as I was only looking at the effect my eating disorder has on me. I have friends with eating disorders, and I know that it makes me very sad when they are engaging in behaviors, and I would do anything within my power to help them. I had never considered that there were people who felt that way about me.

So tonight, in group therapy, when it was time to introduce myself to a new member to our group, after giving it a lot of thought, I introduced myself as someone who was "in recovery" from binge eating disorder (and also "in recovery" from compulsive shopping and hoarding, but that is a different topic for a different time). It has been several to many weeks since I last binged (I don't have an exact date of my last binge, but I think it has been 4-6 weeks). I have been eating when I am hungry but having treats on occasion. I have not been going to the grocery store and filling my cart with produce and other ingredients that I know I won't prepare and eat (which leads to some guilt and shame when I end up having to throw those ingredients away). I have been sticking to realistic foods that fit into my life. I have realized I don't really enjoy fast food anymore. I have eaten a lot of cereal because I really like it. I have tried out different kinds of peanut butter to figure out which kind I like the best. I have kept snacks on hand for when I want a little something. I have not "given up" anything. I know that giving something up (soda, white flour, potato chips, sugar) is the quickest route to reactive binge eating for me.

Instead of stuffing my feelings down and burying them with ice cream and McDonald's, I have been crying...and laughing. Feeling fear and anxiety without trying to numb it. And for the last several weeks, I have spent a lot of time feeling happy. I spent a lot of time asking myself, "Is this happiness? No, wait. Is this happiness? Or maybe THIS?" It's hard to identify happiness when you have been trying really hard to feel nothing for a really long time. I can say this, however. Tonight, I am lying in a hammock on my balcony, with my dog asleep on the floor beneath me. My cat is inside but close by, curled up on her kitty condo, fast asleep. I got to see some of my favorite people at group tonight, and tomorrow I have my individual session to look forward to. I have exciting plans for the future. I am starting to let go of the past.

I don't know what will happen tomorrow, and I don't want to worry about it. Today, in this moment, I am declaring myself "in recovery." Right now, ED is not the boss of me. And I don't need anyone to save me...I am working instead to save myself.

Is your cup half full or half empty?

Back in the day when I was in my twenties and had not a care in the world (or at least had no insight into any cares I may have had), I used to answer that question by replying, "Filled to the top!" I don't know if I really felt that way or if I just was being cute or what, but it was my consistent answer.

At group therapy this week, our facilitator (who is my therapist) asked us who or what fills our cup. And I knew it would not be enough for me to say that my work as a nurse fills my cup (SPOILER ALERT: I was right! She was not going to accept that as an answer!). So I talked about how the families of patients I have cared for fill my cup when they tag me in a post on Facebook about how much the nurses meant to them during a difficult time. My therapist fills my cup by being someone who accepts me unconditionally and does not keep a running tally in her head of the things I have done "right" or "wrong." I have some friends who fill my cup because they are so happy to see me when we get together. My dog fills my cup with the loyalty and devotion he shows me. My cat fills my cup when she sits purring in my lap (although she empties it out a little when she pees on my bed...again).

And then we were asked...how do you fill your own cup?

And there was silence. And wrinkled foreheads as we all thought really hard about it. And I thought I would share what I came up with.

I recently bought a hammock and stand for my balcony, and I L-O-V-E it. I love to sit in it, where I am mostly hidden from the world, reading a book or playing a game on my iPad. I love the weather we are having right now, and the sun feels amazing. I fill my own cup by finding the time to spend in my hammock.

I can fill my cup by giving meditation a chance. I have had an on-again, off-again meditation practises, and it has been off-again for a while. It's one of those things that sound great...for other people. But my brain is chaotic and messy, and there is no way that I would be able to silence things for long enough to meditate, and it just won't work. Today, I used an app on my phone to do a ten-minute breathing meditation. I practiced letting thoughts pass through my busy brain instead of staying there. Ten minutes did not feel like ten hours. I filled my cup a little bit.

I think yoga can fill my cup, and one of my former favorite classes was being held this morning, so I thought, "Yes! I can go to yoga! More cup-filling!" So I dug out my yoga mat and checked to make sure the class was not cancelled...and then I realized I really did not WANT to go.

Like many people who struggle with eating disorders (and other addictions), I am a very black-and-white thinker. I am either being "good," or I am being "bad." I think today I interrupted myself in the middle of being the best "good" I could imagine. "Let's do all these things because if one cup-filler is good, then four will be better!"

Going to yoga would mean giving up time in my hammock. Which did I want to do more? The sun is shining, and the sky is a beautiful spring blue. I went walking with a friend this morning, so I had some physical activity under my belt (Endorphins!!). I decided to stay home. Yoga will always be there as an option, in some form. However, we are supposed to get some rain over the next few days, so weather like this might not be back for a while.

I filled my cup without overfilling it.I actually did it! I filled it just enough while practicing a little bit of moderation. Instead of thinking about how I will repeat this tomorrow, I am trying to stay with today, which is hard for me to do. I often am living in the past or worrying about the future. But today, I am going to attempt to stay in the here and now.

And if you need me, I will be in hammock, watching the clouds go by...

Changing thoughts to change behaviors...it sounds simple, but it feels impossible.

I have not written on this blog for a while, but I had therapy today, and I find myself with some thoughts that I want to think about and write out and come back to and ponder. If you were to ask me introduce myself in a therapeutic setting (like maybe in group therapy), I would first tell you what I did for a living and then tell you what is "wrong" with me. "I am a nurse. I am divorced. I am a binge eater. I am a hoarder." That is often how I see myself...the sum total of those four sentences (or sentences like them).

My therapist has said to me several times that she wants me to consider changing my thoughts and beliefs about myself and not my behaviors. I usually nod my head, start thinking about what I am going to grab to eat on my way home from her office, and wonder if there is some other "tool" I have not tried that can get me to where I want to be. A new budget spreadsheet? A new organizational system? A new diet? A better understanding of gluten? Of sugar? Of fat? Intermittent fasting? One meal per day? How can I change my behavior so I can feel better about myself?

When you are a dieter, you wait for the day that you have lost all the weight, and you know that everything will be "better" then. If you are beating yourself up for being fat, once you aren't fat, you will no longer beat yourself up...right? I have done this with my debt (once I have paid off my debt, I will no longer beat myself up about how much debt I have), with the clutter in my house (once I clean up and come up with a system to keep it clean, I will no longer beat myself up about what a mess I am ), and with multiple projects that I have procrastinated on (well, it feels shitty to have to rush this way, but when I am done and still ON TIME, I will no longer beat myself about how I suck at time management and saying no and am always doing things at the eleventh hour).

So of course, it probably is not that easy. After all, I have been a size that looks damn good to me in pictures now, even though I thought at the time that I was still fat. There was a time when I did not have credit card debt, and I was not necessarily happier then. When I moved into my current home, I started with a blank slate, and no method I could come up with could stop it from becoming what it has been recently. As for procrastination, well, I usually over-schedule myself to the point that down time becomes REALLY down time (usually involving a nap and binge watching a Criminal Minds marathon), instead of a calm, set aside block of time where I can work on things ahead of time. 

Anyway, it usually take me about fifteen minutes to get from the therapy office to my home. And I usually spend that time pondering what we have talked about and trying to separate the "fluff" (which is often from me deflecting or staying very "surface") from the "meat" (which usually is whatever leads me to cry) of the session. And today, the thought I left with was this: "What would my life look like if I were to willing to forgive myself for all the things I did that were not in keeping with taking care of my "inner child" (or the little girl that still lives in me...take your pick of terminology)?

My childhood was a good one (I think I have written about this before). We had plenty to eat, clothes to wear, a good education. We went on vacations, often more than once per year. My mom stayed at home with us, for the most part, and we didn't spend time in day cares. My dad worked hard to provide for us, and he paid for our college careers in full. We remain geographically and socially close, and we see each other often. I thought this meant that my family life had been alright.

But. Emotionally? Not so close. Nurturing? Not this group. Affectionate? Nope. Connected? I don't really think so. Generous with money? Absolutely. Willing to treat each other to lunch out or to ice cream or cookies or a bag of candy? Yep. At ease with saying the words "I love you?" Certainly not. But my family life was still alright...wasn't it?

A long time ago, my therapist said something that has stuck with me through this journey. She said that, while someone who has been abandoned or abused or physically neglected has a specific "reason" to point to when they find themselves in a therapist's chair, subtle things can, over time, be just as damaging. So for a baby who is left alone to cry in her bed who grows into a toddler whose mom is not free with affection and then to a child who is given treats but not told that she is loved and then into a teen who is afraid to rock the boat because "that's not what we do," the end result might just be a place like this one, where I find myself. My impression of myself is that I have fucked up a lot of stuff, and THIS is why I didn't get what I needed (at least emotionally) in my family. I see my life as a series of bad decisions (even some that I "made" before decisions were really mine to make), bad choices, and bad behaviors that inform my view of myself (I must be bad...right?) and have me stuck in this place where I am pretty sure I don't want to spend the rest of my life feeling THIS way, but the other side is far, far away, and the fog is too thick for me to see it clearly.

So changing my thoughts...forgiving myself...engaging in meaningful self-care...seeing myself as being worth achieving all those "goals" (less weight, less debt, less clutter) instead of waiting to achieve them in order to become worthy...how do I do that? I want an instruction book or a recipe. "Take two vitamin C gummies, eat an apple, and dance in the moonlight on a warm, rainy night while burning incense and balancing a book on your head." Okay, step one, done. Step two, done. And step three...well, as long as no one is there to see it. But I hear my therapist when she says that is not what it's about. And I am thinking about it. And I have not found her untrustworthy in the years that I have been seeing her, so there is no reason to think she is lying to me now. And she seems to really believe it. She believes that I am worthy of love, even with my load of credit card debt and my messy house and my fatness. Could that really be true?

I am not sure where to go from here. I guess a first step to forgiving myself is to figure out just what it is I need to forgive myself for. I do firmly believe that all the mindful eating work and body love advocacy and anti-diet reading in the world cannot "fix" what's going on here. I have tried medication that was supposed to cut down on binge eating by changing the way I felt physically, but that didn't address why it was I was binge eating. And I went off that medication because I saw that it was maybe a quick fix to a lifelong struggle I have had. Before I can profess to the world, "I love my body, curves and all," I have to be able to say that I love myself...the me inside this body, not the body as the world sees it. 

So I guess it will take talking about it over and over again, having my irrational beliefs challenged over and over again, and leaving therapy exhausted after spending my time there crying over and over again to move in a healthy direction. And maybe the rest will follow. But even if it doesn't, it would stand to reason that that would not matter as much anymore, right? If I truly love myself, what the rest of the world thinks about my body should not matter. If I truly love myself, I should not feel the need to keep feeding the vortex that I am trying to fill with more and more things. If I truly love myself, I should be able to take care of myself by doing things like taking the trash out and vacuuming on a regular basis and occasionally saying "no" when I am over-scheduled and need some time to myself. My therapist today said that she knows that I am standing at the end of the cliff right now, and that feels very true, and I feel like I can't see the bottom. But can I let go of what I have known and believe in something better? Can I finally take that leap and believe that I can build some wings on my way down?

The beast is back...

The good news is that I have been doing Morning Pages! I have done them for several days, and I am finding them beneficial, although sometimes it's a stretch to write three pages. This morning, however, I decided to forego Morning Pages and blog instead...because ED is alive in me, and it's been a rough week.

I had two weeks of pretty "grey" eating (in that I wasn't having black-and-white thinking about food...not in that everything I ate was grey). And there were different shades of grey. I had some food that was balanced fuel for my body. I had some Skittles. I had some Christmas cookies. But I did not binge, and I did not restrict, and I felt like I was being kind to my body. But I also didn't shower for five days, so while ED may have been dormant, my depression certainly was (is) not.

My psychiatrist added another antidepressant to my own particular cocktail, but I am not up to full therapeutic doses, so I am not sure what the final result of that will be. I am pleased that the medication she chose has been shown to increase dopamine, and since increasing serotonin and norepinephrine has made me better-but-not-best, maybe this will work in tandem with my other medication to improve things in that area.

Anyway. ED. Sometimes, the trigger for a binge is clear. Getting bad news. Getting good news. Stepping on the scale and seeing weight gain. Stepping on the scale and seeing weight loss (I am not currently stepping on the scale at home, but I did get weighed in a medical context a week ago, so that could be part of it). Going out with friends. Staying home alone. Having a hard day at work. Having a good day at work. I am sure you can see a pattern here...anything really bad can trigger a binge for me, but something really good can too. I am not sure what happened this week (I have had a lot of anxiety, so it might even just be general anxiety that sent me into the food), but my black-and-white thinking is back, and everything I am eating is "bad." Bad. BAD. And therefore, I must be bad.

It's a new week, so there are a lot of dieters out there who are starting fresh this week (and it's the first Monday of a new year, so that makes it even more true), and part of me wants so badly to start fresh as well. Maybe this time a diet will work. Maybe I should give Weight Watchers 2016 program a try. Maybe I can just track calories. Maybe I can give up carbs. Or dairy. Or meat. Or sugar. Which one is going to work?

And the other side of ED's coin...the shopping bug. I definitely overshopped last week. I did some of it mindfully, buying things I really did need to buy either to replace worn out things or to otherwise contribute to a clear planned activity. But some of it was mindlessly perusing Old Navy and adding to my (already extensive) wardrobe. Some of it was buying yarn, even though I already have a burgeoning yarn stash (BUT IT WAS ON SALE! Just because a store is having a sale does not mean you have to go shopping.). Some of it was groceries (YAY), but some of the groceries were candy and binge foods (BOO).

Balance is so hard, y'all, and it's clear I have not found it. But I guess my only option is to keep showing up...because any other option ends up in a really bad place.

Oh, wait...HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Resolved!

My New Year's Resolution every year is this: Get my shit together. Usually, that has meant that I was going to find the "right" diet and start paying off my debt and clean up my home and live like a real adult. Anyone who has read this blog knows that I have not really succeeded in many of those areas.

I did take some important steps this year, in going into a debt management plan and really starting to tackle my spending and debt problems. I have made some missteps, which has meant that I have paid some money in overdraft fees and also fallen into the online shopping rabbit hole a few times, but I have regained my footing a bit. It's a learning process to shift from relying on credit cards and ignoring a mounting problem, and I definitely still get that itch from time to time to check out by doing some mindless shopping (full disclosure: I do have a list of things I "want" when my budget allows...I don't know that I will end up buying all of them, but they are sitting on a wishlist, waiting for me to have the money for them).

My home is still a cluttered mess. I thought of using the holiday season as a "motivator" to get it cleaned up, just in case anyone had an occasion to stop by for any reason. However, I have decided that the better option is just not to have people stop by. Looking around at all this stuff just still is completely overwhelming, and the thought of cleaning it up sends me into shutdown mode. My only two goals today are to do laundry and unload and reload the dishwasher, and even that seems like too much right now. And I have some major refrigerator de-cluttering to do that I cannot even fathom right now.

And that leaves that elusive search for the "right" diet. I absolutely believe with 99% of my being that this does not exist. Often, I believe it with 100% of my being, but there are times that ED tries to convince me that is not true. I have not binged in over a week now, but I have been eating, mostly cereal with milk and peanut butter with everything and tostada shells with cheese melted on them. And everything has tasted so good! I forgot how much I like cereal. I had stopped eating it because it triggered my "need" to weight it out precisely, but now I have just been pouring it in a bowl, adding some milk, and digging in. Peanut butter is another thing I have had to measure precisely in the past, but instead I have been slathering it on my toast and savoring it. I have not had anything fancy to eat in the last week, but I have enjoyed what I have eaten, and I have not numbed out with food. And one of my favorite things about TFID is that Caroline is realistic about the fact that sometimes eating is not going to be a completely mindful activity. I am living alone, and sitting down at the kitchen table to eat my meals in a quiet environment and concentrate only on what I am eating feels like a whole lot of bullshit to me. I usually eat sitting on the couch, often in front of the TV but sometimes also with my laptop on my lap. And I always thought that I couldn't be a mindful eater because eating at the kitchen table in silence made me feel like I was going to crawl out of my skin. But TFID has given me "permission" to go with my instinct that this is a load of crap, and I can eat in front of the TV and taste my food and enjoy eating and not feel like I have to get a meal over with because the silence is driving me crazy.

I also have not stepped on my home scale for the last week or so, although I was weighed in a medical environment last week. It still calls to me because I am so used to using it to measure my worth, but I am not answering that call. And I am thinking about tossing it in the dumpster today because, if that call continues, I am not 100% confident I won't eventually answer it. I do get weighed at medical appointments on a fairly regular basis (much less often than once per week but usually every month or two), so I am not losing the ability to know my weight. But if I ditch my scale, I am losing the ability (or maybe I should say surrendering the ability) to let my daily weight control me.

So is there room in my life for a New Year's Resolution, beyond the old standby? I have one goal in mind that I am not yet working on, and it is actually something I am sincerely excited about. And it's an idea I have gotten from some of the podcasts I have been listening to. There is a book called The Artist's Way that has been mentioned on podcasts I have been listening to over the past two weeks, and although I have not read the book, I have heard a lot about one of the practices suggested by the author, and that is a practice called Morning Pages. Morning Pages are three pages of stream-of-consciousness writing, written by hand, at the beginning of the day, designed to help to awaken your creativity. Brené Brown has a great quote that kind of helped lead me to this resolution: "Unused creativity is not benign. It lives within us until it's expressed, neglected to death, or suffocated by resentment and fear." I don't think of myself as an artistic individual. I can knit, but not well. I can make jewelry, but it's not a passion of mine. I can do lettering, and I have nice handwriting, and I occasionally create something that I am proud of. But I don't have a creative passion. I have tried out a bunch of creative hobbies, but once I build my "stash" of supplies, I usually lose interest. The acquisition of these supplies? Definitely the shopping monster. The actual creative pursuit? Forgotten almost immediately.

However, I have always been told that I am a good writer. My grandfather was a good writer, and even as a child, I remember being told I took after him. My teachers generally graded my papers well. My papers in grad school are generally well-received. I have a good grasp of the written word, and sometimes I have something to say, and I can usually get my thoughts into written words without much of a problem. Does that mean I am going to write a novel someday? Maybe not. Does it mean that there will be a day that this blog will be more than an anonymous spot on the internet? Perhaps. Therefore, Morning Pages are my New Year's Resolution. And I don't necessarily mean every day...that feels too much like a compulsion. But I am going to dedicate time and space to write three pages on most days before I get my day started, and I am going to see what it is the stream of my consciousness has to say.

And I am going to be kind to myself. And I am going to be kind to others. And I am going to remind others to be kind to themselves. After all, if we don't care for ourselves, who will? If we are not worthy of our own care, how can we be worthy of the care of others?

Podcasts

At some point in the not-so-distant past, I discovered podcasts. I didn't really "get" initially that they were free, so I had not checked them out, and then I heard about "Serial" and became pretty well obsessed with it. It helped that I had some decent periods of time in the car during which I could listen to whatever I was listening to at the time. I also, at this time, was still in my discovering-Brené-Brown period, so I listened to some podcasts on which she had been a guest. Although some of the interviews were pretty repetitive, listening to her speak about her shame and vulnerability research and the importance of empathy was really powerful for me.

I spent some time listening to "Stuff You Should Know" and "Stuff You Missed in History Class," which are both pretty awesome (I especially love SYMIHC), and then I must have joined Audible because I took up audiobooks as a way to pass time in the car. However, I started listening to the podcast "Food Psych" not that long ago, which is Christy Harrison's podcast. She is a registered dietitian and intuitive eating coach, and her podcasts are actually interviews/conversations with some people who have become really interesting to me recently. And this is the podcast that lead me to Caroline Dooner, which is the creator of the Fuck It Diet (herein known as TFID). Since finding TFID, I have been searching for Caroline's other guest stints on podcasts and have really enjoyed listening to her talk about her food history and how she healed her relationship with food because, more than anything else, this has given me some hope that such healing is possible for me as well.

Although I have mentioned more than once that the HAES movement doesn't quite sit well with me, I have to admit that I am become more interested in doing some more research into it. While I don't know that this is the size I will be forever (as there are still moments that I hope that my "set point" is lower than what I weigh right now) and don't necessarily think that it's 100% okay just to say that you can be fat and healthy (because, while it is true that you can be fat and healthy, there is also the chance that being fat can lead to health problems), I do find myself wanting to listen to what Linda Bacon has to say about body size and what is not currently understood well about the relationships we have with our bodies.

More to follow on that, I guess.

Anyway, I have say that things over the course of the last couple of days have felt a lot more peaceful to me than the days before them. I find myself thinking often about the letter from my body and the pledge to my body, and I don't find myself assigning morality to the food I am eating. I have thought about what was going to taste good. I have eaten a lot of cereal. I have considered several choices and chosen the one that looked most appetizing. I ate a salad today because I wanted to. And I have only heard some whisperings from ED. He is mostly leaving me alone.

And financially, this pay period has been my most successful since I entered the DMP. I am on track not to overdraft my account, and I have not had to reschedule any bills. I have about $45 in my checking account right now, but only $30 are earmarked for things happening before payday, so I have an itty-bitty cushion that I am going to use to buy baking ingredients to make some Christmas cookies. I feel a little bit of money peace as well.

I would never suggest that this is IT! I am CURED! I have BEAT THIS THING! I know that this is not a straight line process. My depression is still very much present and not very much under control. My anxiety still breaks through at times, although it's for reasons other than money or food issues. And I cannot sleep for crap, quite honestly. I still have self-defeating and self-deprecating thoughts on occasion (although I am trying to intercept them). But I also feel like my body had some good points in its letter, and I still feel like I mean what I said in my pledge. So I will take this good feeling for as long as it lasts...I hope it will last for a long time.

Letters

The first two days of TFID had as homework having your body write a letter to you and then writing a pledge to your body. My pledge to my body also took the form of a letter, and I brought them to therapy this week and shared them with my therapist. I hesitate to say this because I can't imagine that it will last, but for this moment, I feel some body peace that I have never felt. I can't promise that I am going to be the next Virgie Tovar, but I also don't feel like I hate my body in this moment, sitting here, typing out these words.

Without further ado, I present my letter from my body to me:

Dear Enough,

It's me...your body. I am sitting here on the couch, after a long, busy day at work. I know that you're trying not to concentrate on any one thing. The TV is on, the apartment is cluttered, the dishwasher is making a weird noise, and you kind of have to pee. That feeling that you kind of have to pee? That's me talking to you. You don't usually listen to that signal until the last minute, which leads to a mad dash to the bathroom. Necessary? Maybe not.

That's not the only thing I say when I talk to you, however. Sometimes, I want to let you know that I need some better care. This might manifest as heartburn or indigestion after a dinner of ice cream, arthritis pain in your knee because of a steady diet of Skittles and soda, or a headache because of a lack of sleep (or caffeine). I have other things I would like you to hear, as well, but I can't seem to get you to listen to me.

I love movement. I love when we go to yoga together and you listen and open your mind to the lessons that the teachers have to share. I love when you take walks, especially outside walks, but the treadmill can do in a pinch! I don't like running. I am not a big fan of weight training. I can take or leave the elliptical.

So let's talk food. I don't want food to be such a battleground for us. I don't want you to have to consider whether a food is good or bad before you give it to me. I don't want you to use food to punish yourself. I want you to realize that it is okay to eat these so-called "bad" foods in moderation and that you don't have to feel guilty about them. It's okay to eat a food just because you want it. But I would love it if you would also think about what I need to run the way I have to in order to support you in your day to day life. I need to be nourished, not punished. I need to eat the occasional vegetable and plenty of protein. I can eat gluten, and I can eat carbs, and I can eat meat, and I can eat sugar. I can do all that. You don't have to cut those things out. But I can't be expected to stay in good working order if you are feeding me either a straight diet of "junk" food or almost nothing at all. It's okay to have a treat. But I can't promise that I will be able to keep working for you if you don't help me out a little bit.

I know it feels impossible. I know that the idea of allowing food to let go of the hold it has over you feels like the most foreign idea in the world. I can feel you struggle...I can hear your thoughts, even when you don't quite get them into words. I can see that moment when you transition from enjoyment of a food to the frantic shoveling in of something you can't quite taste anymore. I feel such sadness for you in those times, but I feel some panic too. After all, if you don't take care of me, no one will. Audrey has said it...she can't want recovery for you more than you want it for yourself. In the same way, I can't want recovery for you more than you want it for yourself. I am here for you, but I can't promise to be there forever if we don't figure this out...together. Please start at least trying to pay attention to what I am telling you. It will take time, but if we work on this together, maybe the signals I send you will start to be noticed, and maybe you will be able to tell that I am hungry (and hungry for actual nutritious food), and when I am physically satisfied, maybe you will feel satisfied as well. What you have been doing has not been working. For the most part, you have come to realize that dieting truly is not the answer. The "right" diet is not out there, so you and I are going to have to work together to figure this out. I am committed to you...can you be committed to me too?

Love, Your Body

And my pledge to my body:

Dear Body,

I guess that it's time for me to admit that 25+ years of dieting has not worked. I am left feeling like a failure because I couldn't wrestle you into a size and shape that I liked. I have punished you for not conforming to my ideas of what you should look like. I have not nourished you physically or mentally. I have been mean to you and called you names. And you still have done a reasonable job of carrying me through life.

You have allowed me to do work that I love. You have allowed me to reach out and give hugs to those whom I care about. You have helped me save babies’ lives and comfort grieving parents and celebrate first birthdays and stand in front of groups of people and teach them about what I do. You have kept safe my brain and my heart, even when I have not given you reason to. You let me cry when I know I am safe, and even if my darkest times, you are with me.

Instead of seeing myself as apart from you, I am going to try my hardest to join with you and continue on this life's journey. I will not force you not to eat. I will not force you to run because I know you don't like it. I will keep you active because it makes you feel better and not because I have some elaborate goal to meet. I will let you eat Skittles when you want them, but I won't force you to finish eating them just because they are there. I will not make you eat kale because we don't like it. But I will let you have food that serves as better fuel for you than what I have been giving you lately. I will work with you and not against you. I will invest in you, and I ask that you continue investing in me. I know that you have been patient when perhaps I did not deserve your patience.

Thanks for sticking with me and believing I am worth it.

Love (and I mean that),

Enough