I have to write if I'm not going to eat compulsively. But I can't write if I don't stop, and sit down at the computer. I can get so caught up in my daily schedule that I can let it slide more or less completely, but when I do that, within a short period of time I can find other things sliding until I may find myself in a desperate place with my emotions. I get pissy, pessimistic. That inevitably ends up with me craving more food. It's like a black hole in my psyche opens and starts sucking my optimism into it. And the food is like a branch that I have always clutched at when I feel myself even slightly slipping over the brink.
That branch reminds me of a book I read a long time ago at the suggestion of my doctor, Eating in the Light of the Moon, and the author likened eating disorders to a log that you might have clung on to, floating in a flooded river, in order to survive a challenging time in your life. Yeah, I guess my childhood, even with its nice middle class veneer could fit that metaphor. Whatever happened, I seemed to need a crutch, that log. And eventually, in order to get to the shore from the flood, you have to let go of that log and step out on to the shore. I guess that's what you would call getting grounded. My problem was, I had latched on to that log for way too long, and the attachment to my log was threatening to drown me in physical and emotional problems.
I don't remember anything else much about the book, it didn't really seem to help with my binging problem at the time, but I come back to that log metaphor often.
So, I have to stop and write in the middle of my day in order take some stock of what is going on in my savage breast, or more likely, my fevered cranium. Lately I've been noticing people in 12 step meetings talking about all the chatter that goes on in their head --- you know, the committee that never takes a coffee break, just goes on and on and on, so much so that you can't hear much of what's going on around you. The committee is quite happy to construct an alternate reality for you, with very little input from what's actually out there, a rehash of past events. Of course, everyone's reality is subjective. But I think my reality is sometimes so subjective, it's unhealthily distorted. I think it's just a question of degree, where I fall in that continuum between being very aware of my surroundings to off living somewhere in my la la land head. I guess that's what the weather is like on Fatgrrl. And Planet Fatgrrl often ain't exactly a happy place. Well, some bits are, but there seem to be a few too many sketchy neighbourhoods for my taste!
Sorry for the maelstrom of metaphors here, the planet with neighbourhoods, and logs, and rivers and committees, but it's interesting to see all this gushing out of my brain. I think it's just a small sample of what's constantly swirling around there. It's one of those planets with a very thick atmosphere that threatens to obscure the sun. Speaking of obscure, hooboy...
ANYWAY... it's got to all work together. Understanding why I eat is not enough. Reading good books is not enough. Going to meetings is not enough. Talking to others is not enough. Telling myself I am not going to eat something is not enough. Writing is not enough. Praying is not enough. I need all of it. And still I am tempted. I have to work my butt off working my program. And I also have to literally work my butt off because the physical exercise has to come into it too because I want to feel physically good in my skin and not have to eat only lettuce sandwiches. Reading all this is daunting, but if I have anything to share with you , it's that doing all this stuff? ---- it's thrilling.
No comments:
Post a Comment