One Year Anniversary
Just about this time last year I completed my third session with Julie. It seems like a good time to take stock of where I've come.
So, to get the obvious out of the way first: I was 62 when I began. I'm 63 now. I was a size 16-14.
Now I'm a size 10. Okay, that's done
What else have I lost over this past year?
1) TONS of TERROR:
I used to spend some significant part of each day, and especially as I was trying to fall asleep, paralyzed by fear over health issues. I knew that my blood sugar levels were high, that I was "prediabetic," and awaited the moment when my pancreas would give up the ghost and I would have to go on insulin. I was often afraid I was having a heart attack, imagined the plaque building up in my arteries and brain. Every news article, every report, of the inflammatory damage which high blood sugar causes, sent me into a panic. And I knew, if I kept going the way I was going, I would end up on medications which would have side effects, for which I would have to take more medications, which would have side effects.
None of us is immune from aging and illness. I know that I will get sick sometimes, and that there will probably be some serious shit ahead of me, and of all of us as we age. Now though, I feel that I am doing everything I can to care for myself, to pay compassionate and gentle attention to my body and what it really needs. I have not had night terrors in a year. (I have also stopped watching all medical dramas, listening to any ads about illness, taking in any toxic "mind food" of that sort).
2) THE SHADOW OF SHAME:
It is impossible to be addicted without being ashamed. I was addicted. When one is ruled by something like food, it is impossible not to have one's self-confidence utterly undermined. I could not believe what I was doing to myself. Aside from the superficial, but painful, shame of often being the heaviest person in the room (Vermont is the second healthiest state in the U.S.), I was ashamed of my inability to stop hurting myself and those who love me. I felt weak, a junkie, often disgusted with myself.
3) OODLES OF OBSESSION:
I spent much of the day, as I had for most of my life from about age 11 on, in an endless, torturous round of internal isometrics. What should I eat? Will it be bad or good for me? I want...I shouldn't....I want....I shouldn't....I did....How could I have done that?....Now that I've done it I might as well just go whole hog.....I feel sick.....I'll do better tomorrow....Maybe today? I want.....I shouldn't...I won't...I did? I cannot really fathom the amount of precious life energy which went into this endless and sad battle.
About two weeks into the program I was driving down to the store and my mind began it's habitual "I want ice cream...no, I shouldn't have it" chatter. I had a moment of feeling utter despair and grief over the loss of the prohibited foods. How could I possibly live for the rest of my life without cake, chocolate, potatoes, etc? (Of course some of them will come back into my life in small amounts soon, but at that moment it felt like never, and in some ways that feels the best way to think about it for me).
I felt, at that moment, that the loss of those beloved foods would kill me. And then, some merciful, hidden, healthy part of me flashed over all of the thousands of times I had driven down that road, miserable, self-hating, stressed to the gills, caught in the endless web of obsession over whether I would or would not eat something hurtful. I realized, in that flash of insight, that the pain of saying "No", was not worse than that old pain. Saying "No," with no questions, no ands, ifs, or buts, would be hard. There would be many sacrifices, but it was a growthful pain, a pain which would result in being healthier. The pain of obsession went nowhere but illness and self-loathing.
Since then I have had periods of wicked cravings, but miraculously, I have never considered acting on them. I simply know that I will not. That the stakes are too high. That I simply cannot afford to EVER do that again.
What have I gained over this past year?
1) FAITH:
The fact that I have done something I truly believed I could not do. That I have ended this cycle of despair, has spread to many other areas of my life. If I can change something so primal, so deep, then anything is possible. No, I have not become a Pollyanna. I have my dark nights of the soul. I have my neuroses. I screw up. I get stuck. But if this could change, then I know, however slowly, anything can.
2) ENERGY:
The highs and lows of energy have gone. I no longer feel in a coma in the afternoons. I can walk for hours and hours. I am in far less pain. I can accompany my healthy friends in their adventures. I can say "Yes" to so many things I said "no" to.
3) STRENGTH:
Somehow, the ferocity needed to work with the food cravings has given me some badly needed courage in other areas too. I find myself much more likely to tell people how I feel, honestly, to set boundaries where I need them. Sometimes I am surprised by what comes out of my mouth....this may take a little getting used to. (-: But I'm almost 64, so I guess I'm entitled to become a fierce old lady!
4) JOY:
The exit of terror and despair has left room for appreciation: of the beautiful countryside around me as I walk, of being able to go into a store and buy clothing that fits me, of sitting down for a meal with friends and actually taking in their presences, instead of thinking of nothing but whether I will have a second helping of something, of making friends with my body, of so many things.
5) GRATITUDE:
My heart overflows with gratitude. To Julie. To having found my way there. To all of my sisters and brothers everywhere who struggle with addictions of any kind. To my body, for having stuck with me through everything I've put it/us through. To my life-partner who loved me as I was, who suffered through so much with me, and who gets to rejoice with me now. To the internal wisdom, which loved life enough, loved me enough, to make this growth possible.
