Lots and lots of stuff going on!

I moved into my new house this past weekend with the help of 14 great friends and a 1.25 month old baby. I have to absolutely brag about my friends and how grateful I am for them -- you have to be a great friend to get up at 8 AM to avoid the 105F projected high, and to work in 90F, humid weather to move me out of my second floor apartment. I felt so loved. It sounds cheesy to say that, but seriously I thought in the middle of this "Wow, they are willing to give this huge chunk of their Saturdays for me? And get up so early on Saturday?! And help even though this historically hot weather smothers you the moment you walk outside?!" I was (and am) incredibly grateful for their help, and the spirit behind their help. Beyond the friends who helped with the move itself, there was a friend who stopped by to bring us cold drinks. There was another who watched someone's little daughter because she was pregnant and didn't feel comfortable doing all the lifting, and this freed up two more friends to be able to help. It was a real team effort and I was unspeakably grateful for and humbled by everyone's help. For someone who had a very long and hard season of isolation and crushing loneliness in Arkansas, it was incredible to realize how vast and rich my pool of friends here is now. Again, gratitude is the word that comes to mind -- not only for their help in moving, but for their friendship and for having them in my lives. I am so so blessed and grateful for each of them.

Along these lines, I had a birthday almost two weeks ago now. I think it was the best birthday I've had in probably 10 years. I loved it. My license expired this year so I had to get a new one. It was shocking to compare the new picture with the old. I am so much skinnier looking in this new one; in fact, I could not believe that I had a sleeveless dress on (I didn't think about having to take a license picture when I got dressed that morning -- let's blame my blondness) and that it looks really good in the picture. I then met my friend/new roommate for lunch, ran some more errands, went over to a friend's house (the one with baby Benson, my move in helper), and then met another friend for frozen yogurt where she had a very thoughtful surprise from my mom -- a beautiful bunch of gerbera daisies which are my favorite.

The day was so full (not in an "I'm running around and can't cram a single other thing in the day" kind of way, but in an "I can't believe what a good day this is, and my heart is about to burst" way.). It was only afterward when I reflected on it how different it was from the previous years' birthdays in Arkansas. Previously since I had very few friends in Arkansas, the way I celebrated my birthdays was with food. I'd let myself eat whatever I wanted in whatever amounts I wanted and say that that was just a part of celebrating. In contrast, this year I barely thought about food. Yes, I met friends for lunch/dinner, but food was really in the backdrop and not in the forefront of why we were getting together -- the real reason was to celebrate and have fun together, not to eat for the sake of eating. I thought to myself "THIS is what normal people must feel like around food" -- and it was not lost on me that, at least for the day, I fell into that category of people who were treating food as a part of the background of their lives, not in the starring role. I was amazed and, again, I felt very grateful.

It is incredible to think about how much God has blessed me in the last year, in very unexpected ways. I distinctly remember my birthday last year. I felt probably the worst I have ever felt in my life. I had been diagnosed with depression a few weeks earlier, and somehow putting a label on the emptiness I felt made me even a little sadder. I spent a good chunk of my day crying face down on the floor of my apartment thinking, "This is just not right. Life should not be like this." I was so lonely and sad and I felt utterly defeated. It was on that day that I gave myself permission to leave Arkansas. I cried and thought, "I have no good friends in Arkansas." I felt very strongly the voice of God whispering to me, "I am your friend." It sounds crazy -- well, it is crazy -- but it was unmistakable to me. I cry just writing about it.

I decided I would give myself one year. I would try in earnest to make friends one last time. I had already tried everything I knew to do (and my counselors agreed that the list was long and that I HAD tried a lot) one more time -- and if it didn't work out again this time, I would leave in a year with no guilt and absolutely no remorse.

The move to a place just across town (not out of the state, as I had contemplated a year earlier) and my birthday are a testament to how much God has helped me to make friends here. My friends here have affirmed that I am not weird (at least not enough to justify my having no friends), that I am valued, and that they love me -- and after the drought of local friends, the value of this is immeasurable and I in no way take this for granted.

There are other things I would have never guessed would happen over the last year -- moving in with a roommate after living alone for 10 years, joining a 12-step program, getting a year's extension on my tenure clock -- but I see God's hand in every one and am convinced this is what He has for me in this season of life. I want to learn every lesson and enjoy every day because His plan is best for me.

Just a quick update on life. It is really a great season of life right now, and for this I am unspeakably grateful especially after such a hard three year stretch after I first moved to Arkansas. The fullness and richness of life is certainly not lost on me.

(And by the way, the food part is going pretty well these days too. Again, I'm grateful.)

When I was this age I thought....

Well yesterday was another big day for me. I had my second big "holy crap I just got through a big meltdown without food" day. It was hard. Well, I guess meltdowns by definition are not really a cakewalk.

Anyhow.

I explained how last week was just stressful. This week will be too. Actually, until I am moved and settled in my new place (early August), I think life will be stressful. And that's just how life goes sometimes, so I'm trying to put my big girl pants on and just deal with it. I'd describe the stress like an ache -- you know, that low level, always there, bother you but you have to learn to deal with it because it's not going away kind of a thing. Yesterday's pain was very acute, and that in the past has almost always driven me right to the food. Learning to find comfort and deal with those sharp moments of pain or feeling "less than" without food is really hard, especially when you've dealt with pain using food for about 20 years.

The theme of the day yesterday was age. I'm 31. I didn't have a hard time when I turned 30 (well, aside from the whole "I don't really have any friends here to celebrate this with" thing -- but the number itself? Not a big deal). I don't feel old. I am really fine with my age. But most of my friends here are younger. I've only recently realized this, as the topic of age has very little to do with why we're friends and so it really never came up.

Yesterday one of my friends had a birthday. I love this particular friend, and was honored to be able to spend a part of her birthday with her celebrating what a cool person she is. I knew that she and her husband had struggled for many years with infertility before adopting their amazing daughter almost a year ago. I figured the whole "struggling with infertility for years" thing made her at least my age or older.

Nope. Turned just turned 29. When I found this out yesterday, I just had an intense few moments of feeling very much "less than". Almost all of my friends here are married. Almost all of them are pregnant or have just given birth (think I'm joking? A few weeks ago I had 15 pregnant friends, no exaggeration). Almost all of them own their homes.

I rent. I'm single. I'm childless.

All of those things are (seriously) ok with me about 95% of the time. They all make sense. I'm not sure how long I'll live here, so it doesn't make sense to buy until I get tenure. I've seen my parents' miserable marriage and I'm not getting married unless I find the right guy, who has yet to materialize so being single makes sense too. And there's no way I'm having a kid solo. (I've generate enough stress for myself -- I don't need a little to help. And if I do decide I desire that? I'll just get a dog.)

But yesterday? This all was very much not ok -- it's one thing to be "behind" people my own age. But when my 25-29 year old friends are all having babies with their spouses that will live in houses of their own? It can mess with your head and make you feel very much like a loser.

So yesterday I really really wanted to eat over this. I even went into Target to buy food to binge on. As I walked up and down the chocolate aisles, I had a moment of clarity. "What are you doing?! Not only will this not make you feel better, you'll really regret shoving this crap in your mouth. You need to feel this pain."

So, I walked out of Target without even so much as a trashy magazine, and I sat in my car and cried for a good 15 minutes asking for God's help to remove the compulsion to eat and to help me to feel confident about where I am in life. Feeling the pain is so hard, but I really think it's the only way for me to deal with it.

It is funny, yesterday afternoon I went to a different OA meeting than I usually do because I hadn't had time this past week to go to many meetings and this particular meeting fit into my schedule. Several different people said during their shares, "You know, I thought for sure by this age I'd be over this [compulsive eating]!" I really let that marinate, and it was so funny that, later that day, the topic of age really sent me down a dark path where I really wanted to eat compulsively.

I am coming to realize that I'll never be 'over' compulsive eating, even if I'm 100. I am for sure getting better with dealing with it. It comes to the surface less frequently when I do the right things to manage my eating. But I think it will always be there. I am coming to peace with that, even though it's something that is something I'm obviously not excited about. Maybe this is the thing that will keep me relying on God for everything, because since I have given food over to Him we converse much more frequently.

I have no great way to end this post with a quip or a resolution so I'll just say the following:

I'm very grateful for God's help in getting over this urge to eat compulsively yesterday. I'm very much needing his help to make it through another stressful week. I'm not sure where I thought I'd be at 31 (almost 32), but in Arkansas dealing with depression and compulsive eating by myself certainly isn't what I'd envisioned. But, with God's help, I will make it through -- and I sure am grateful for the lessons I'm learning these days, even though this isn't exactly how I'd seen my life playing out...

Father's Day 2011

Wow yesterday morning was so so hard. SO hard.

First of all, after that great weigh-in early in the week, my weight kept inching upward. The perplexing part was that I was, as far as I know, doing everything right. I had the best week of workouts I've had in probably 2 months. I tracked every single (non-point) thing that I put in my mouth. As a bonus, I even made a conscious effort to drink less pop (successful but still room for improvement). However, in the end I was up 3.2 lbs for this week.

My main reaction was confusion, not anger or disappointment or wanting to give up. I was (and still am) perplexed, but my focus remains on doing the right thing -- eating nutritious food, tracking my points, and exercising regularly and aggressively. The weight will follow. I will only get concerned about the scale if my gains continue over the course of, say, a month. For now, there could be a myriad of causes -- water weight, hormones, stuff caught in my system, etc. Nonetheless, it got the morning off to a lackluster start.

That morning, our regular pastor was out of town. His pinch hitter is, at best, weak. Sometimes he's so glib he's even offensive. It is tough to sit through, and gets tougher with time. For this reason I wasn't excited to go to church. However, I texted some people and decided I should go. One of my friends texted me:

It's father's day and you know he loves his kids a lot so maybe it won't be so bad.

Then it hit me: "Oh shit, he's right. It's father's day and they will talk about this in church." And that's where the REAL fun for the day began, and I had an immediate and very very strong inclination to binge which I haven't done in a good 2-3 months thanks in no small part to OA.

I was a messy flood of tears, mostly sad and angry about my poor-to-non-existant relationship with my father who is an emotionally vacant and even emotionally abusive shell of a man. His behaviors have had long lasting and very deep implications on our fractured family. In addition to being mad about how much he had let me and the rest of my family down, I was mad at myself for my eating disorder and dysfunctional relationship with food which was making me want to binge with everything inside of me.

My reaction in the past would have been immediately to jump to the "screw it" stage and to soothe myself with food. I was determined to do what I could to avoid this situation from playing out let again.

I asked God for help. "Please let this compulsion pass."

One of the things you hear about in compulsive overeating circles is the need to "sit with the feelings" -- you have to really feel your feelings rather than just muting them or covering them over with copious amounts of food. Well I can tell you, in the moment, sitting with (binge food of choice) is a hell of a lot more comfortable than sitting with feelings when the feelings are so deep and hurtful and so shitty. But yesterday, I sat with my feelings. For a good 45 minutes to an hour I sat with my feelings on my bed and cried and cried and cried. I held tight to the serenity prayer, and I prayed for the compulsion to overeat to pass. And after awhile it did.

I was so grateful for God's help in surviving the compulsion to overeat -- the strongest compulsion I'd had for a long time. It also made me think, wow maybe it is actually possible with God's help to be restored to sanity when it comes to food (step 2). While I believed this step in my head, I think I am starting to actually see evidence of it in my life, and for this I am very grateful.

New Low

This morning I weighed 228.0, eclipsing my old low of 228.4. The funny thing is that I'm learning that just like food and my attitude toward it don't define me, my weight doesn't either. The next thing that needs to go is my identity as a former fat girl. I sometimes still think of myself that way (often?). It's not that I think it's bad to remember where I've come from; I think that's good/important. It's more that it should not define me -- moving it out of who I think I am at my core.

Now here's the thing -- every other time I've hit a new low in the last year, there is some sort of self sabotage involved (see picture above). It's never conscious and it's always subtle, but it's always been there. Soon after I get to a new low, I get sloppy or gain weight or something. I need to figure out why and not do it now. After all, if weight doesn't define me, why should it dictate my behavior? It shouldn't.

I am cautiously optimistic that this is the week I can break the cycle. I will be praying about this with my higher power. If you are into such things, would you mind praying for me too? I hope to have good news to share soon. Hopefully this is the time where I can break through this maintenance phase I've (unintentionally) been in for the last year.

Giving it Up

Since I started to attend OA (which I do pretty much exclusively on the phone, but usually 3-4 times/week), my journey to get healthy has taken a decidedly spiritual turn. These themes play heavily in this post.

This morning, I went to go see Fork over Knives. It's basically a film advocating a vegan-based diet and advocating viewing food as medicine -- something that can not only prevent but also heal chronic diseases (they focused on cancer, cardiovascular disease, and diabetes). A little preachy, but not too bad.

While I do eat tons of produce (I calculated last week that I probably have 1.5ish lbs of produce/day), I also eat meat and dairy. While meat is something that I feel I could cut out of my diet without too much heartache, I would have a really really hard time giving up dairy. I love yogurt. I love milk. I love cottage cheese. I love kefir. I love basically all forms of dairy that I've tried.

But most of all I love cheese.

One of the big arguments in the film against dairy was that it is high in casein, a protein that some studies show can encourage the growth of cancerous cells. I thought to myself, "If I had cancer and after researching it concluded that dairy was hurting me, would I really be able to give up cheese?" I batted this idea around for 5-10 minutes while I continued watching the film and decided I could not. I'd rather die than give up cheese. And I really did mean it literally.

Only after I rendered this decision did it strike me how absolutely absurd this was, and how deeply engrained my dysfunctional food thinking is. To be willing to continually self-injure or at least not prevent something that will happen as a result of your actions is just -- I don't even know. It's sad. But in that theatre, I decided I'd rather do that than to give up a food that I loved.

This reminded me of the passage of the rich young ruler in the Bible. Basically, a rich young guy asks Jesus what he needs to do to go to heaven. Jesus tells him he needs to sell everything and follow Him, but the man is sad and ultimately can't do it. And for me, the money is food. Would I really be willing to give up food and rely on Jesus instead?

It's one of those situations where you're not really sure until faced with the situation (as opposed to a hypothetical musing), but after praying and working through this issue much of the day I can finally say that I think I could do it. I would give up dairy if it were hurting my health or if I felt led by God to do it. And that is submission in its ultimate form, and a very huge step for me. One more step in this long, difficult journey.

Stress!!!!

The end of the semester is usually grueling, but for some reason it seems even more so this semester. I am buried in a stack of grading and just as I make progress on it, it seems that more gets dumped on me. I'm so stressed out.

I've visited the ol' friend of compulsive overeating to help me get through. The busy-ness has also crowded out most of the exercise I'd usually do. After gaining about 10 lbs in about 4 weeks, I feel gross. I feel lethargic and I am starting to feel softer in places that shouldn't be soft, and am losing muscle definition. By all accounts, these things are undesirable.

But do you know what? I realized I am oddly grateful for this. As a result of this, I got to feel how my body shuts down when it's not properly fed or nourished. It's not pretty, and I feel disgusting. It was a great reminder as to why I'm getting healthy. Also, it really reinforced the idea that I am a food addict. Though I am not proud of the title, I think I need reminders sometimes when I feel like "man, I've got this" -- you know, the whole "pride comes before a fall" thing. I have ruined my brain chemistry and neural pathways pathways to not treat food normally (or it genetic, I don't know -- but either way, the result is the same).

Starting yesterday, I said "This is enough." Yesterday and today I have eaten food that honors and nourishes my body; I went for a bike ride yesterday and went to Zumba today. I have worked a whole lot, but I am cutting out TV and excessive internet usage as a way to relax, and instead spending that time on working out. I feel a lot better, even with just 2 days of healthiness under my belt.

I've said it before, and I've said it again: I am a tough broad and I will not give up. This healthiness thing is the way God intended for us to live, and I am going to need to trust Him to help me restore my body to the way he intended for it to work. That starts with giving the body what it needs and deserves both in the form of food and exercise.

My OA experience and Food and God

I was skeptical about OA prior to going. So skeptical, in fact, that I avoided for a good, long 1.5 years. It's become obvious to me that there are certain bumps in the road -- some I see but cannot avoid -- that have impeded my progress on this journey. I was stuck at 235+/-5 since last May. In that time I've battled depression and been stuck inside for snowstorms and imbibed at Christmas and done all kinds of stuff that impeded my progress -- but I have not made it onward and upward with respect to the weight loss in almost a year.

During the past year it became clear to me that while making healthy choices has become easier, there are sometimes that I still struggle mightily and that I am still addicted to food and probably always will be. There was something mental going on with me -- it wasn't that I had plateau-ed and that my body/metabolism was fighting the weight loss; I was sabotaging my efforts to lose weight and to get healthy. The most frustrating(/sad/infuriating) part is that I could not completely figure out why, leaving me flummoxed.

I completely bought into the addict aspect of the OA program. Although my binges had become increasingly infrequent, they still happened on occasion. Although I have a healthier relationship with food, it was by no means a normal or functional one -- I still obsessed over food way too much. However, I refused to believe that I was "powerless" over food. Was I not maintaining the weight? I was. Had I not lost 60-70 lbs? I had. I was not powerless; I felt I COULD win over food.

That's not to say I'm not proud of maintaining; I am. It's also not to say I'm not stronger/smaller/more toned; I am. But, I have not been losing any significant weight and that is frustrating but a natural consequence of the actions I've made with respect to the food I've used to fuel my body.

I finally reached the end of the rope and, in response to HW given to me by my therapist, went to OA. The folks at OA helped me to reframe the "powerless over food" phrase into something that I can not only tolerate but into something that I love and has revolutionized my healthiness journey. Being powerless over food doesn't mean that food wins, it means that I'm not in control over food but that I can rely on a higher power (I believe in God, so I'll use the term God from now on) to help me with food and to be my strength when I am weak. This is not at all the same as my original interpretation of the meaning of being "powerless over food"; it is actually a great thing to be able to rely on someone more powerful than you to help you with something you struggle so much with, not a bad thing or conceding defeat to food.

It is funny, I always thought asking God to help me with food was too small -- something He could not possibly care about. I felt embarrassed and ashamed to ask for His help with making smart decisions. Finally, I decided "What do I have to lose? I'll give this a try". The first day I basically prayed and said, "God, I am giving my food to you today. Please help me to make wise choices." I felt silly and honestly a little ashamed, but I did it.

That day was so easy. I felt a peace about food I have not felt in a long time -- no obsessing between meals, no feeling chained to my phone to track everything on my WW app ASAP. I also didn't go to the other extreme of not wanting to track anything due either to malaise or guilt because of "bad" food I was eating, no wanting to eat more of something when I was full. I would imagine that is what it is like to have a "normal" attitude toward food. I have always wondered but never really experienced that (in case you haven't noticed, moderation really isn't my strong suit).

Now each morning I give my food to God as part of my daily morning ritual. I spend some time praying and focusing specifically on the food. I just don't obsess about food every moment of the day anymore (we're going on 3 weeks here...). It is so great. And, although it is not the point of OA, feeling at peace with my food has helped me to stay on WW and I've lost about 8 lbs since I started. I was out of town for 4 days at the beginning of the week -- I ate out the whole week basically -- and I still lost 1.5 lbs. Insane, and uncharted territory for me.

If I have learned nothing else from OA, it is that I can turn my food over to God and He will help me with it. I also realized that while I consider food something "small" or insignificant, it's really not to me -- to me it is paramount and has caused me all sorts of trouble and for that reason if no other, I can and should turn it over to God. Clearly He can help me with my food better than I can in my own strength.