Dear Bee,
Being abstinent puts us into a new world. Instead of trying to cheat ourselves and get away with it, we learn to be straight with ourselves and others. Instead of escaping problems, we learn to face them honestly. Instead of despair, we feel self-respect and a developing self-confidence.
As we get rid of our obsession with food, we get in touch with our feelings and abilities so that we are able to function calmly and efficiently.
I didn’t know what to write about (for once), but I felt like writing (as is usual). So, I checked out the daily meditation for OA from the book Food for Thought. What does this mean to me?
In order to be in a relationship with you, I had to cheat on all the relationships I shared with other people. I had to lie to myself. I had to make the lamest excuses to keep your existence secretive and protected from all whom might judge. I was so afraid of you, so fearful of what you could do to me, and so, I tried to conceal you…tried to control you, tried to handle you with my bare hands and blind eyes.
I spent many years “out of touch” with my own feelings. I did not realize this until September, until my therapist told me that I had no idea how to sit with my feelings, recognize my feelings, or even really tell her how I was feeling. That is frightening. That is what an eating disorder does to its victims; that is what you stole from me, and taking back what was inherently mine feels like such sweet justice.
The very thought of handling life can be scary. For me, it was foreign. I was compulsive, anxious, and emotional, but never knew how to constructively manage anything. I busied myself with activities I did not enjoy, spent time with friends who wore me down, stayed in relationships that made me sick, and numbed myself with food, exercise, and the newest diet of the week…because at least that gave me “control” over one element in my life.
I dislike the term abstinent in recovery of eating disorders. I dislike it because it maintains the black-and-white rigidity I tortured myself with for so long. I do not use the term “abstinent” when talking about my own progress. While I mentally keep track of how many days I haven’t binged (currently up to 11; highest since starting meetings was 58), I don’t collect chips or consider myself a failure for slips. Doing so just perpetuates the guilt cycle, and I’m tired of living in an all-or-nothing world. I have accepted some days will be harder than others; some days, I will have cravings; some days, my emotions will run more rampant: but every time I can intervene, explore the root issue a little deeper, and choose a better option for myself, I am making strides.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Only I have the power to decide what constitutes as a failure, and therefore, only I can decide when I have failed. If I remove the idea of failure from my recovery, then failing becomes impossible.
I am not cheating as much anymore: not at eating, not at life, not with you. Am I perfect? No. Do I lie sometimes about how I feel? At times. Do I always fess up my setbacks? Not always. Progress not perfection.
I can now tell when I feel anxious or compulsive. I can now identify my triggers. I accept my feelings: the good, the bad, and the confusing. Even when they feel unbearable, I know they will pass. I know the difference between physical and emotional hunger. I know how to eat for my body, mind, and soul. I no longer “play dumb.” I have learned to ask people for help when I need it.
I am a WINNER.
