we can learn to relax (inner harvest)

[taken from "inner harvest", a daily reader for those (like me) with food addictions/obsessions, etc]

We can learn to relax 

Stress may have prompted us to keep our mouths busily chewing, and it undoubedly played a role in our continual dieting and weigh-ins. Some of us were in a stressful contest to see how thin we could be, how much exercise we could do, or how perfect we could be. 

As we learn to listen to the wisdom of the body, we begin to notice tension. We realize our jaw is clenched or our neck is stiff or we want to eat even though we just finished a meal. We need to take a deep breath and think about why we are straining and what it is that we are trying to achieve, repress, or overcome. We need to decide whether we can do whatever we are doing just as well if we don’t clench our teeth. 

Giving up our overachieving, unrealistic goals may be a prerequisite for relaxation. Being willing to slow down and not try to do six things at once may also be necessary. A conscious decision to practice being relaxed is something we can make many times a day, whenever we feel our serenity slipping. Take a deep breath. Take several. Slow down. Enjoy the quiet.

I will practice relaxing today, so that in time it will become a habit.

weight issues

My weight has been an issue from a very early age. I started gaining when I was really young, 6th or 7th grade. I was home alone, in a house in the country, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. So I did what most kids would do if they were home alone, I watched tv and raided the refrigerator.

My mom noticed this about me only because of the food missing, the dishes in the sink and my gaining weight. She noticed the physical effects of my eating habits. And she tried to help by putting me on diets. She promised me new clothes. She tried to bribe me “$10 for each pound you lose”. But there was one thing she was missing; compassion.

I tried. I really did try to lose weight. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stop the urge to continuously go to the fridge when I wasn’t hungry. When I was full. When I was bored. When I was happy. When I was sad. When I was angry. I couldn’t stop myself from going to the fridge.

There was an exercise bike, an old one that I used every once in a while. I’d get on it for 5, 10 minutes and try to put on my moms jeans. They never fit. It made me angry; at myself. Now that I think back, I don’t think it was the clothes of my mom’s that I was trying to fit into; it was her life. I was trying to be her, to be her daughter, but all she wanted was a little girl who would let her get dressed in dresses, skirts, to let her hair be brushed and styled the way she wanted it. A little girl who never got mad. A little girl who did everything for mommy. A little girl who never said no. I was never that little girl for her, and I got angry at myself because I couldn’t be her.

I couldn’t be her physically. Not with my weight, not with the color of my skin, not with my attitude, not with my likes and dislikes. I have always been the complete opposite of her. And I hated myself for it.

I couldn’t stop eating, so I kept gaining. I got the remarks about my clothes, questioned as though I stole from the FBI when food was missing. I got ridiculed. I became embarrassed to be in my own skin. After so many years, my mom didn’t have to say anything anymore because I said it for her. Within myself and I took on the attitude as a failure. I’m a failure as a human and as a daughter because I’m fat. Fat eventually turned into obese. I ended up a little over 300 pounds at nearly 30 years old.

I did something about it; I got Gastric Bypass Surgery. I had no appetite for about a year and I loved it. I was exercising, I was eating better, and I lost 150 pounds in a year. I was happy. Mom was happy. I think she liked me for the first time in my life. But did she love me for me, or for losing weight?

That was nearly 5 years ago. At my lowest weight I was 145 pounds. I am now about 190 pounds. I don’t exercise, I don’t eat right, I don’t follow the “rules” and I don’t know how to feel about it. I am happy that I am 110 pounds lighter than I was. But how do I feel about myself today? Am I still trying to fit into her size 6 jeans when I’m a size 18?

I obsess about what I eat. I feel better about myself if I can go 3 hours without eating. I don’t exactly punish myself like I used to when I eat more than I should, but I’m sure it lowers my self esteem if I overeat. Questions run through my mind. Am i really hungry? What am I hungry for? What should I eat? What shouldn’t I eat? Has it been long enough? Am I being emotional? Am I being delusional? Why am I so worried and obsessed? Can I go an entire day without eating something sweet? Don’t a lot of people eat goodies every day? the hamster wheel goes round and round in my head. Every time. Every meal. Every day. Do I care? Do I want to do anything about it? Do I want to continue doing this? It should be an easy answer. NO. But it’s not that easy.

food

Well I’ve spent most of my life pointing out the fact that people are alcoholics.

But a very short amount of time admitting I’m an addict too. A food addict.

It started when I was in Junior High. It started out of depression and boredom. I liked the way it tasted, but I sure didn’t like the way it made me feel. I started to gain weight really young, and spent most of my life putting on more weight and more weight.

I haven’t been able to be emotionally available for anyone all these years. I’m completely self absorbed. These days I don’t believe I use food for the same reasons anymore, but that could just be my denial. I just know that I like eating but I get scared when I’m going to eat. I get the same questions rolling around in my head. Am I really hungry? What should I eat? What shouldn’t I eat? What else could I be doing? And the list goes on and on. I obsess over food.