"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.

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!

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.

Update...I adult-ed!

I managed to make a phone call to have a repair made. I didn't even rely on email! I can't say I feel proud of myself because that was such an overreaction to something so benign. But the relief? It's overwhelming.