Expectations and Arguing with God

This morning, I am reflecting on acceptance vs. control this morning.  And I am weighing the balance I have between ‘doing the footwork’ vs. expectations about the results.  How control and expectations lead me to resentments.  And I cannot afford to stay in that emotional space.  It is a threat to my emotional sobriety, to my conscious contact with God, to pretty much anything that helps me be less crazy in addiction, in my relationships with God, with myself, and with others.

My expectation is often that I can control the results if I work hard enough.  And that if I don’t get the results I want, I have failed.  That this is sometimes true makes me expect it to be true every time.  And when it isn’t, I am shocked, unhappy and angry.  The mystery in recovery is that I do not have to understand or accept God’s evaluation of my work.  It just is.

And yet, often I just don’t understand God’s will and I feel strongly about that.  However, I have to accept that I don’t have to understand everything.  If me not understanding today means I make a similar mistake in the future, I will just have to live with the consequences.  That is just a learning opportunity, another chance for growth.  When I go too far in trying to explain or justify my process out of the belief God is wrong, the universe made a mistake… well, that just doesn’t work.

I can try to understand where I went wrong, but getting into an argument with God, back talk really, is never going to be productive.  This is not a relationship of equality.  I’m not the director.  And I cannot manipulate outcomes long-term by sheer will.  It isn’t healthy.  It doesn’t work.  And it is not acceptable to God.

I can be confused and not resentful.  I can be frustrated and not lash out in anger or self-harm.  I can just be ok with “I did my best and I’m happy with that” on the one hand and “God didn’t give me the outcome I feel my work deserves and I am unhappy with that” on the other hand.  It doesn’t feel great but I can accept that this is how I feel right now.

I do this work of recovery because I know deep in my heart this is what God wants for me.  Happy, joyous and free.  I accept that sometimes obedience is just doing exactly what I’m told, without adding to it or changing it.  I accept that I may interpret a task differently than God does and God gets to evaluate the results, not me.  I could be angry that sometimes diligence is rewarded and sometimes it is not but that only feeds my anger.  I don’t need more reasons to be angry.  It gets me into trouble in life and it takes me further from God.  That is not the pattern I am trying to foster for myself.

In the rooms this week, I heard someone say “sometimes I succeed, and sometimes I learn!”  I can be grateful when I make some progress.  Focus on the big picture, not the momentary frustration of not getting what I want.  I can rise above a temper tantrum.  I am a child of God but I am not a child.  I am reminded of the passage in the Big Book (p.88):

As we go through the day we pause, when agitated or doubtful, and ask for the right thought or action.  We constantly remind ourselves we are no longer running the show, humbly saying to ourselves many times each day, “Thy will be done.”  We are then in much less danger of excitement, fear, anger, worry, self-pity or foolish decisions.  We become much more efficient.  We do not tire so easily, for we are not burning up energy foolishly as we did when we were trying to arrange life to suit ourselves.

I can be grateful I am learning how to process anger, overwhelm, and anxiety.  There is a lot of good in this.  I do not need to make my progress feel sour by being angry at God’s evaluation of where I am in this journey. 

While I am allowed to talk back, to argue with God, it is not a good use of my energy.  It changes nothing.  I am learning that sometimes I will make mistakes.  Sometimes I will do everything right and not get the results I want.  And when that happens, it’s God’s will.  I may not understand and I can live with that unease.  I do not need to be right so badly that I will disrespect God by turning away, becoming self-destructive in my frustration and despair.

I’m sorry, God.  I will hold my frustration better in the future.  I will turn away from self-destruction and turn toward you.  Please help me accept the things I cannot change.

 

Cravings when my food is clean are only thoughts...

Joe and Charlie write about how the phenomenon of addiction starts in the mind.  It is the thought that I need something to "help" me feel less irritable, restless and discontent.  The cravings only start once the substance is in our system physically.  Before that, it is just a thought.

So I was having some 'cravings' (really, they were thoughts) that I wanted ice cream, a hamburger, some pizza.  Some summer street food in the heat, in the plaza, with everybody else.  The normal eaters and the not normal eaters in their pre-recovery days.

But those are thoughts.  Thoughts that mask the feelings of "I'm lonely" and "I wish I was like everybody else".  And EVERYBODY, from Bill W to Joe and Charlie to my sponsor to me when I'm not being restless, irritable and discontent, says this delusion of being like a normal eater has to be set aside completely.  Smashed.

So why the thoughts when my food is clean?  It's just my will trying to drive the show into a ditch.

My sponsor says when these thoughts come, we first inventory our food.  If it's clean, then I inventory my thoughts, words, and actions.  No matter where these thoughts of abusing myself with food come from, I deal with the thoughts, the cravings in MY MIND.  I don't set my body up for the relentless cycle of being triggered into physical cravings.  It stops at only the thoughts.

Blessed be.

Justification for Bingeing is Insanely Insufficient

It occurs to me that my justifications for bingeing -- I'm upset, I just want the world to go away for a little while, I can't cope with my feelings, I'm sad, I'm lonely, I'm depressed -- are insanely insufficient in light of the emotional and physical health consequences obesity causes me.  If the bingeing actually helped my mental state, well, then it would be a hard bargain to make, but it doesn't.  I used to think it does but really it doesn't help.  I feel worse after I binge, not better.

I'm reading in AA's Big Book, the chapter on "More about Alcoholism" and I find this passage helpful in the context of when I deliberately binge because I am upset or depressed:

In some circumstances we have gone out deliberately to get drunk, feeling ourselves justified by nervousness, anger, worry, depression, jealousy or the like.  But even in this type of beginning we are obliged to admit that our justification for a spree was insanely insufficient in the light of what always happened.  We now see that when we began to drink deliberately, instead of casually, there was little serious or effective thought during the period of premeditation of what the terrific consequences might be. 

Our behaviour is as absurd and incomprehensible with respect to the first drink as that of an individual with a passion, say, for jay-walking [who ends up with a broken arm and then two broken legs but persists in jay-walking nonetheless].  [Big Book, p.37]

Later, the Big Book talks about the "subtle insanity" just before taking the first drink.  In this period of premeditation the compulsive behaviour seems like a casual idea, innocuous, not likely to be harmful.  A couple of cocktails.  Some salty snacks.  A doughnut.  But 1 is too many and a 1000 is never enough.  I know this.  I have no defence once I pick up the binge food.  As the Big Book says:

...though I did raise a defence, it would one day give way because some trivial reason for having a drink.  Well, just that did happen and more, for what I had learned of alcoholism did not occur to me at all.  I knew from that moment that I had an alcoholic mind.  I saw that will power and self-knowledge would not help in those strange mental blank spots.  I had never been able to understand people who said that a problem had them hopelessly defeated.  I knew then.  It was a crushing blow. [Big Book, p. 42] 

What I know about neuroscience is once a brain is wired one way, with repeated behaviours over many years, it is very hard, if not impossible to rewire it.  So if this science is true, my will power and intellect is not going to be a allay in stopping my compulsive eating.  I need something more to help.  And that's where the concept of my Higher Power comes in. And weirdly, that's what I see when I keep reading!  The end of the chapter on page 43:

Once more:  the alcoholic at certain times has no effective mental defence against the first drink.  Except in a few rare cases, neither he nor any other human being can provide such a defence.  HIs defence must come from a Higher Power.

Blessed be.

Learning Under Duress

Things I am learning as I struggle:

·    My food behaviour is inacceptable in that it is dysfunctional and obstructive to my healthy living goals.

·    In giving up and bingeing when I was upset, I refused to even try let alone train consequently to use measures that actually will help me in dealing

·    I have a special version of failing when I give up and binge.  It is beyond failing as “try and not succeed” or “try and not be good enough” and in the territory of “fail by doing things I know will fail me” along with trying to justify this failing as inevitable or somehow helpful.

·    I do not have the right to put myself in harm’s way and punish myself by bingeing for three days, let alone one. 

·    I do not need 15 hours of sleep in one day, even if I am tired.  That is avoidance, not healing.

·    I was wrong to sleep for 15 hours ignoring projects that need to be done. 

·    If I mess up, I cannot be rewarded for it or why would I ever change.

·    If I procrastinate, this will get worse.

·    What I do to hurt myself is life-threatening and much worse than simply doing what is healthy for me.  My Higher Power is kinder to me than I am to myself (but right now that is not very hard to do).

It hurts to change.  It hurts not to change.  Pick your hurt.  Life will get better as I heal.

For Today: I have what I need

There is no calamity greater than lavish desires - Lao-tzu

A few years ago I read a book called The Hungry Ghost by an addictions doctor who works with the poorest and most troubled people in the Downtown Eastside of Vancouver, Dr. Gabor Mate.  He writes about how addicted people have this empty hole in their soul that they try to fill with their substance of choice, whether it is food, alcohol, drugs, love.  But they are never satisfied.  The hole is a hungry ghost which leaves them even more empty.

The more I work on my recovery, the more I realize I do not hunger for food.  I am fortunate to have enough.  My eating is to try to fill other holes -- for love, for belonging, for connection -- all ghosts that food will never satisfy.

For today, I will remind myself that I have enough.  I have love, belonging and connection when I reach for it.  I have plenty of healthy food and water available.  Truly, I am blessed.  My hungry ghost is an illusion and does not serve me.

When I googled prayers for hungry ghosts, I am surprised at how many traditions have a response.  Whether it is Christian Catholics with the idea of souls in purgatory or Buddhists or Wiccans, there seems to be a shared sense that much of our pain is not entirely ours... that we carry with us suffering for other beings, ancestors, old souls, etc., and we can feed them and free both them and ourselves from suffering.

I liked this prayer over food from the Wiccan tradition:

May you never hunger.  

May you never thirst.   

May all your needs be fulfilled by this food.   

May you be satisfied with what you receive here. 

May you no longer suffer through my body... this body which is now wholly my own.

Blessed be.

For Today - Finding Comfort

Question 7 in the OA Slipping and Sliding reading and writing tool suggests looking at "distorted ideas" and to research the "before" thinking in OAII stories to identify my own distorted ideas.  It asks, "What were my thoughts before I indulged in that first compulsive bite?"

I thought I hated myself.  I thought I needed to escape how I felt.  I thought I deserved to suffer, to be punished, to put poison in my body.  I thought I could fill this empty space in my soul with food.  I thought if I binged, the world would go away for awhile and I would feel some peace.

And none of that is true.

For Today - This Disease is Devastating, Painful, and Fatal

Continuing with the OA relapse tool on Slipping and Sliding - I am on day 3 and question 3:

Do I have a devastating disease that leads me to return to food for comfort?  If so, how much pain does this cause me?  How could my disease kill me? 

I have a devastating disease that leads me to return to food, over and over, for comfort.  Yesterday was my second day of Grace, with abstinence.  I found I was tearful multiple times, crying twice, and sobbing once.  If I was bingeing for comfort, I would not have experienced these emotions.  And that would have been both more painful and more damaging to my sense of self and my body.

How much pain does this disease cause me?  More than I need.  More than I want.  Enough that I have considered suicide.  Enough that I have considered bariatric surgery.  Enough that I developed a major depression four or five times over my adult life.  Enough that I have isolated myself from family, from friends, from potential romantic partners, from an active, fulfilling life.  From my creativity.  Instead I have binged and I have over-slept.  Sometimes for days at a time.  The pain is horrendous.  No one deserves to feel this bad about themselves, their life, their past.  The pain has robbed me of years of my life and threatened my future.

When I read "Sink the Lollipop" in OAII as suggested, this resonates:

• she was sexually molested; I was sexually abused
• she was so wary of the male sex she was not able to trust men enough to want one for a husband; me too
• her escape was a "ship" she built of pure chocolate and it was her sanctuary for 39 years; my ship was built of chocolate, bread, crackers, and other junk food and it has been my sanctuary for about 31 years;
• she was angry with God; so was I
• she expected doctors to fix her; so did I
• she set impossible goals for herself and then binged and became depressed when she didn't reach them; me too
• she ventured out, vowing never to return to this dark place multiple times, only to return because it felt safe; yes, me too
• she isolated because no one could criticize her then; me too
• it became clear to her that death would come to claim her before she grew old; yes, I assumed this was true for me too.  She didn't care.  Me neither.  In fact, I wished to die so I could get out of my pain. 
• she went to OA for the first time and left in tears; me too.  She was a mess physically and emotionally; yes, I was too.
• she found an awesome sponsor, patient, wise, and comforting.  Me too (how lucky I am and how grateful)
• she is learning to take responsibility for herself; yes, me too - although fledgling and with a lot of help
• she is amazed at how much more she gets done in 24 hours; the living, the connecting, the writing, reading, the friendships.  Me too, when I act on life instead of reacting by isolating and bingeing
• she accepts she is human and a child of God.  That is an on-going struggle for me but I do too.
• she doesn't have to go back to her chocolate binge ship unless she chooses to.  Me neither.

My disease can kill me - slowly or quickly.  The slow painful death is being crushed with the health complications that come with being twice the size my body -- bones, muscles, lungs, everything - was designed to handle.  Or quickly, if the despair is unchecked and I suicide. 

I chose to focus on my recovery.  I choose to recover.  I choose life.

Blessed be.

For Today - Step 2, I knew my eating was out of control when...

I'm continuing with the questions of the Slipping and Sliding reading and writing tool from OA.  Today, I'm on question 2:

Read Step Two in the OA 12&12, especially pages 9-11.  How did I know that my eating was out of control?

I knew my eating was out of control:

1. when I was about 9 or 10 and I asked the family doctor about the size of my thighs but really I wanted to know why I was sneak-eating entire packages of soda crackers
2. when I would buy three or four ice cream sandwiches for lunch in middle school
3. when I would get up before everyone else and make two batches of buttered popcorn for my breakfast in middle school
4. when I would constantly portion the food in the bowls at the family dinner table to make sure I didn't take too much
5. with the benefit of hindsight:  when I didn't question why I felt hungry all the time despite eating
6. when I was about 23 and my weight hit 180 lbs for the first time
7. when I was about 24 and I had to get a "plus-sized" top for the first time
8. when I was 25 and the dressmaker had to remake the sleeves on my bride's-maid dress because my upper arms were so round, I couldn't get into the size 18 dress properly
9. when I have eaten food that was burnt
10. when I was a child and I snuck repeatedly into the freezer to eat food that was frozen with my Mom knowing (she must have?)
11. when I have eaten food I have dropped on the floor
12. when I drove around in circles, lost, looking for fast food in the middle of the night in a strange city
13. when I wouldn't pack for a visit to my parents' home without stocking my suitcase with chocolate bars
14. when I would sneak more than my share of treats from the office break room
15. when I would put the wrong code on the bulk food candy to reduce the price per pound (stealing)
16. when I continued to over eat as my weight ballooned up to 325
17. when I continued to over eat after spending countless hours and thousands of dollars to get my weight down to 244, only to go back up to 294
18. when stretch marks first started to appear on my tummy, thighs, breasts, upper arms
19. when I developed sleep apnea
20. when I avoid social gatherings and stay home to binge instead
21. when I tried a naturopathic doctor's cure only to develop an irregular heart beat and then realize the substance he prescribed was banned in the United States
22. when I felt humiliated at Weight Watchers at failing, over and over
23. when I would go shopping at night when there were fewer people to see what I put in my cart
24. when I would eat until I was ill or physically so uncomfortable I felt ill
25. when I felt suicidal over my weight, my appearance, my lack of social life
26. when I became celibate for 20 years because I didn't want anyone to see me naked
27. when I continued to suffer, more and more, but thought bingeing made me feel better
28. when I worked hard all day and then ate hard all night
29. when I lived in fear and anxiety instead of peace and contentment
30. when I left the curtains drawn, stopped answering the phone and hid
31. when I stopped opening my mail and hibernated
32. when I smiled and agreed with other people when I really wanted to say no
33. when I accepted abuse in my relationships because I didn't think I deserved any better or could find anyone better
34. when I focused on other people's problems and fixed them, leaving my own unattended to
35. when I over reacted to tiny things, leaving big things undone
36. when I let my house get so messy, it was not functional or even hygienic
37. when I was obsessively "busy" but got little done
38. when I would collapse sick after a period of heavy work or family time
39. when I realized I was depressed and did nothing about it for about a decade
40. when I avoid new things because I'm too fat, too uncoordinated, will look stupid, won't be good at
41. when I left a yoga class weeping because I was simply too fat to do the movement so I went to the store and binged
42. when I paid for a gym membership each month at two different gyms for years and used it maybe 10 times
43. when I signed up for a pilates class and didn't attend even one session
44. when the personal trainer I hired quit and I assumed it was because I was too fat to work with
45. when a family friend made the mistake of assuming I was the pregnant one when I was standing beside my six-month pregnant cousin
46. when I had to wear black pajama bottoms to the gym at first because no exercise wear was made in my size
47. ...

And I could go on.  Step 2 is "Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity." 

Blessed be. 

For Today - Real World

We suffer primarily not from our vices or our weaknesses, but from our illusion.  We are haunted, not by reality, but by those images we have put in place of reality. - Daniel J. Boorstin

For Today:  Staying in the real world is far less painful than hiding in food and fat.

This morning feels better - calmer, more settled.  The storm brewing inside has been tamed, partly by sleep, partly by meditation, partly by chocolate.  Some of the physical symptoms are from PMS - the chocolate fixes that, I don't know why exactly, but it does.  The mental clamour -- that responds to meditation and rest. 

In OA meetings, I sometimes hear members speak about how they know they cannot eat like "normies" - like normal people.  I know how I eat is not normal.  But I have not accepted - perhaps until now -- that I am not a normal person when it comes to food.  What a subtle distinction to maintain!  Such an illusion -- I'm not crazy, my behaviour is!  When I search the Big Book for illusion, this passage resonates:

Most of us have been unwilling to admit we were real [food addicts].  No person likes to think he is bodily and mentally different from his fellows.  Therefore, it is not surprising that our [addict] careers have been characterized by countless vain attempts to prove we could [eat/drink] like other people.  The idea that somehow, someday he will control and enjoy his [compulsive eating/drinking] is the great obsession of every abnormal [eater].  The persistence of this illusion is astonishing.  Many pursue it into the gates of insanity or death. [Big Book, p.30]

To the gates of insanity or death.  I know this to be true.  The illusion that I can control my feelings, my life with food compulsions is a sick fantasy, where I escape from my pain for a half hour or so, and then come crashing back to reality, with the blood sugar drop and self-hatred that comes from bingeing.  This temporary escape is killing me, slowly but surely, physically and emotionally.

The For Today reading says:

I know illusions are an escape from reality and the price I pay for that escape is my illness.  Reality is what is.  Today I do not have the illusion that I am the center of the universe, that I should try to make everyone love me, that my opinions are facts.  My illusions are being replaced with enlightenment, my resentment with serenity, my anger with love.

Please, God.  I have made a mess of things and I need help to know what to do to fix them.  I want to live in laughter, free to love, to trust, to give and receive help, free from shame and regret.  I want to leave that "lonely, frightening, painful train through hell" and accept the "gift of a safer, happier journey through life" [Big Book, p.543].