Even after a few years of sobriety I still had some struggles. I found that food replaced the drugs and the booze and led to a very dysfunctional relationship with myself.
Why do we judge ourselves so harshly? One of my toughest battles was my relationship with food (first 5 years of sobriety). Relationship / issues tough to tell them apart sometimes.
Relationship? Its an odd word to use for food. Relationship, for a lack of a better word, is misleading and maybe the looking glass should maybe magnify how I defined relationships …
I am so grateful for the people who have taught me my lessons in life. The good and the bad. Seeing now that they were neither inherently good nor bad but just the meaning I was giving to them. Meaning according to me. We have relationships with people – with friends, family and of course the ones we love. We also have a relationship with ourselves. It can be a little dysfunctional at times.
My eating was, for as long as I could remember, was a source of comfort and something I could do in the now to immediately feel better about myself. Now what happens when we combine that with a distorted perception of self and a very unhealthy body image.
Just a friendly reminder we are talking about what it used to be like … even in sobriety.
I was so scared of what others would think about me, filled with so many insecurities about my body.
Please, please just like me for the way I look. Because if you peel away the superficial layer – how could you possibly like what you will find?
Don’t expose that naked core, the one that has no where left to hide. I needed that sense of validation.
I couldn’t give to myself. I needed you to give it to me. Insert best victim role – why doesn’t anybody validate me? F#$% you then … here comes the resentment.
How many times would I tell myself “I’ve been good for a few days and can have that Movie Theater Microwave popcorn with almond Hersey bar broken in it”. You’ve been good; have the whole pizza, ice cream, and the chips.
Well at least you are getting some healthy nutrients with the blueberries and bananas in the three bowls of granola. Kind of reminds me of the Lite Beer with a shot of vodka in it. Or you are so good for not using after 5 am – The master: of spinning my own webs.
BINGE BINGE BINGE
Then it would start …….. The gate was open. Bring on the emotional eating. I would eat to have effect. Table for three please –shame /remorse/ and self-pity. The only way I could feel better was to keep eating. That voice in my head that beat me up – that voice that says things to us that no other person has ever said to us – we are the masters of our own self-manipulation. We know the exact buttons to push in our own minds.
If I am feeling so physically ill and uncomfortable then by all means it justifies the circus in my head.
It can’t be me – DEFLECT.
Who in their right mind would admit that they are a result of their own thoughts? It’s a pretty huge hit for that precious sense of self.
Own it and be responsible for it . Own it you say – step up and be responsible …
I wanted to be healthy – button pushed – My justification of being healthy was not to be healthy. It was insecurity. It was; I feel shitty about myself and will only like myself when I look a certain way. I wanted to manipulate the way I felt about myself . I thought I would get points for deprivation. No points for depriving myself, no reward – then for you here comes another resentment.
I wanted to eradicate the insecurities that I felt about myself. I wanted control and security. Funny how that old dated version of healthy only revolved around appearance. Never mind the total lack of emotional or spiritual health.
Exercise was also a form of punishment. I would punish myself for the way that I would eat .You were bad for eating that food. Now you will be good for exercising. Whole pizza and ice cream, three hail mary’s …
Push the button – justify the binge – punish myself with exercise. I couldn’t see, at the time, the line that I crossed. I would lie to clients about my eating habits – I mean people where coming to me for guidance and yet here I was not having my own shit together!
How could I? I was doing the best that I could, at that time.
I was so scared that they would find out that I was a fraud. Here we go again … Do you have any idea the amount of energy it takes to put on so many different masks? Why do we feel that we need to be this or that to gain approval. At least when I was still using it was the drugs – now what could I use as the reason?
You, my friend, are running out of options.