You know how kids go thorugh growth spurts? They eat and sleep a lot and then next thing you know their jeans don't fit. Well I've been going through a growth spurt, in a different way. Emotionally, spiritually, relationally. And my jeans don't fit either, but it's because they're too big.
I am amazed at how emotional eating is just so much less a part of my life, and how my appetite has decreased overall. In the midst of tremendous transition and sometimes painful growth, I'm feeling more accepted and loved than ever.
How do you experience acceptance and love?
Who pours acceptance and love into your emotional cup?
If you feel accepted and loved, how does that affect the other areas of your life?
Is it easier to care for your body and heart when you accept and love yourself?
Then how does this self care, self acceptance, self love affect your relationships with God and other humans?
If sex is giving your self, then what kind of self do you think you're giving?
I'm looking forward to sharing with you some of the good changes that are taking place in my heart. Some posts will come sooner than others. Good art percolates in the heart. Love, Shula
Showing posts with label addiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label addiction. Show all posts
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Lost my appetite
I stopped by one of my favorite Mexican places this morning. A cute little joint that is open for breakfast. I needed to refuel after my workout at the gym and it wasn’t far from the home repair store I had to visit next. After ordering a plate of cheese enchiladas and chicken fajitas, I headed for the dining area to pick a table. What I saw next stopped me in my tracks and left me with a tingling feeling in my chest. Two lanky young men in army fatigues were at a nearby table, polishing off breakfast.
My friend that I love so much he calls me Sis and I call him Brother, had just deployed for parts unknown and seeing those young men in army green gave me quite a shock. I immediately began to sob, sat down at the table next to them, ripped off my sunglasses, buried my face in my hands and let the tears come. Love, fear, separation and longing rolled off my cheeks in warm salty tears. “Ask them to help you” came the warm loving thought in my mind that I knew was Himself talking to my heart. I pressed a napkin to my eyes and swallowed. “Excuse me, Sir. Can you help me please?”. They turned and looked at me calmly waiting until I regained my composure enough to speak. The one nearest to me, a lanky blonde with an honest Kansas farm boy face, said “Yes ma’am?” I took a deep breath. “Seeing you two is quite a shock. My brother just deployed from Germany to parts unknown. I saw him last before they moved to Germany. I don’t know where he is, I can’t know. And I didn’t get to hug him goodbye when he deployed, since he deployed from Germany. Would you mind? Could I give you a hug?”
He immediately stood to his feet and held out his arms. I embraced him, taking in his cologne I didn’t recognize and aware that my cheek that I pressed against his neck was wet with tears. At arms length again, I held his gaze for just a moment. “Thank you. I feel better now.” “You’re welcome, ma’am. And good luck to your brother.”
They left immediately. As they walked outside the restaurant, I saw through the window as they climbed into an enormous black dually truck-a total wildatheartmobile. I smiled at this and sighed. I did feel better. Peace replaced the shock and grief in my chest and I turned my attention toward breakfast.
I was not hungry, per se. But I knew I had to eat right after a workout. I managed to eat about one third of the Tex Mex delight the smiling olive skinned cooks had prepared for me. After one last spoonful of salsa verde and rice, I knew I couldn’t eat another bite.
And then I realized what a little golden moment this was for me-the woman who used to eat her feelings. Instead of overeating in an addictive unhealthy attempt to squash my emotions, I had let the tears come, been humble and vulnerable enough to ask for help and receive it, and then found to my grateful delight that food didn’t have an emotional hold on me anymore. It was just fuel. Thank God.-Shula
PS Please pray for Michael and Angela
My friend that I love so much he calls me Sis and I call him Brother, had just deployed for parts unknown and seeing those young men in army green gave me quite a shock. I immediately began to sob, sat down at the table next to them, ripped off my sunglasses, buried my face in my hands and let the tears come. Love, fear, separation and longing rolled off my cheeks in warm salty tears. “Ask them to help you” came the warm loving thought in my mind that I knew was Himself talking to my heart. I pressed a napkin to my eyes and swallowed. “Excuse me, Sir. Can you help me please?”. They turned and looked at me calmly waiting until I regained my composure enough to speak. The one nearest to me, a lanky blonde with an honest Kansas farm boy face, said “Yes ma’am?” I took a deep breath. “Seeing you two is quite a shock. My brother just deployed from Germany to parts unknown. I saw him last before they moved to Germany. I don’t know where he is, I can’t know. And I didn’t get to hug him goodbye when he deployed, since he deployed from Germany. Would you mind? Could I give you a hug?”
He immediately stood to his feet and held out his arms. I embraced him, taking in his cologne I didn’t recognize and aware that my cheek that I pressed against his neck was wet with tears. At arms length again, I held his gaze for just a moment. “Thank you. I feel better now.” “You’re welcome, ma’am. And good luck to your brother.”
They left immediately. As they walked outside the restaurant, I saw through the window as they climbed into an enormous black dually truck-a total wildatheartmobile. I smiled at this and sighed. I did feel better. Peace replaced the shock and grief in my chest and I turned my attention toward breakfast.
I was not hungry, per se. But I knew I had to eat right after a workout. I managed to eat about one third of the Tex Mex delight the smiling olive skinned cooks had prepared for me. After one last spoonful of salsa verde and rice, I knew I couldn’t eat another bite.
And then I realized what a little golden moment this was for me-the woman who used to eat her feelings. Instead of overeating in an addictive unhealthy attempt to squash my emotions, I had let the tears come, been humble and vulnerable enough to ask for help and receive it, and then found to my grateful delight that food didn’t have an emotional hold on me anymore. It was just fuel. Thank God.-Shula
PS Please pray for Michael and Angela
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Checking In
I don't know how far I'm going to go with the addiction terminology because you know I'm too much of a bird in flight to focus on the negative. But I've had some harsh realizations lately about how often I was medicating my self, numbing my feelings by using food. The first few days were harsh. Really harsh. How many days is it? How many days has it been? I cannot remember which is a goshdarned blessing in itself. I'm no longer white-knuckling it and counting the days.
(pause)
(sigh)
(smile)
Cool. That's something to celebrate. So anyway, what I was saying earlier is all caveats aside, there's a term I heard from AA "Hi I'm (name) and I'm a grateful recovering alcoholic." The key word here is grateful.
I am grateful.
There's a line from a movie that comes to mind; a movie called The Doctor. In the movie (Netflix it you'll enjoy it) William Hurt plays a doctor that is a cariacature of the obnoxious-SOB-who-thinks-he's-God-doctor. As the movie progresses, the doctor learns he has a fatal disease and has a short time to live. And he changes his life from the inside out, because he knows he only has a while to live. While the doctor is engaging in a random act of kindness, one of his colleagues is surprized and asks him what he is doing. The doctor's reply: I have an illness that has given me permission to live like I like because I won't be living much longer. They key phrase for me is "gives me permission".
I don't have a fatal illness, but if I let this addiction to food run wild, it could destroy my health. It could have become fatal. Easy. And I have found that by living my life sober (which for me is eating with gratitude and joy until I'm no longer physically hungry and not to numb or stuff my feelings) by living my life sober, and working to stay sober, has given me permission to do some really brave stuff.
I'll give you an example.
Several days of not eating sugar when I want to "calm my nerves" (read: stuff my feelings) several days of this has made it really clear to me that resentment is often the trigger to me having the urge to eat addictively. Another AA quote comes to mind "resentment will kill ya" or "resentment is an emotion I cannot afford if I want to stay sober". Damn! Those AA folks really have some wisdom don't they? (grin) So anyway, my point is if I want to eat healthy and not eat addictive I have to deal with my resentment.
This morning, I shared a tearful phone call with the roomate I lived with when Delighted Husband and I got engaged. I moved out soon thereafter when I-oh how do I say this without maligning her? Sigh. Let's just say our friendship and my living there ended badly and I felt forced into buying my way out of the lease. I could say more, but that's enough. The point is that I has resentment towards her.
So I haven't seen this gal in years and years. Twelve or thirteen years. I had done some forgiveness work in counseling and I felt it was a good outcome that angry thoughts of her no longer entered my mind. Live and let live and all of that.
Well this morning, she and I spent a half hour on the phone with both of us taking turns crying and her telling me she loved me and she was so sorry and me telling her I loved her and I forgave her. She prayed for me that I would be healed. And I was.
Now how in the sam hill did this happen??
This happened because I kept running into mutual friends of her every.where. and thoughts of her, no fear of running into her, this bone deep anxiety just permeated my thoughts. And when bone deep anxiety permeates my thoughts, you know what I am tempted to do, dontcha?
Medicate my feelings with chocolate. Or any other sugar I can get my hands on. After a few days, I knew I had to deal. I knew if I didn't deal with this situation, deal with her one way or another that I was going to act addictively.
My connection with this mutual friend made it possible for me to send a message to Roommate Girl via email. I typed out this message:
(name)
Out of the blue, God has brought you to mind several times over the last few days. I think God wants to heal a piece of my heart. Would you help me? Maybe you will feel healing too.
I'd like to call you and talk for 20 minutes or so. What is a good time and a good number for you?
(my name)
Through the same grapevine chain, came this reply:
I would love that. My cell number is (number) and you can most easily reach me during (time)
So I called her.
Now I had done my homework with God early this morning. I sat down with my journal and wrote out what I wanted to say to her, what I hoped to say to her if I actually had the courage to go through with it. Basically, I told our parting story from my point of view using I statements instead of you statements and telling what her actions were and what my feelings were. I cried several times while writing it, and I cried a lot after I finished writing it. I felt what I can only describe as God comforting me. Just a peace and that Himself was proud of me.
When I called Roommate Girl, I reasurred her that I didn't hate her and that I just wanted to feel free of pain and resentment and would she please let me talk from my heart for a few minutes. She said that would be okay. I broke down crying a few times as I told my story. Our story. The story of how our "us" died. When I started crying and stopped talking, she actually encourged me to keep going. At the end of my story, I told her "could you maybe love the me from all those years ago and could you maybe find a kind word to say to her?"
And she did.
Oh my God. She did. She told me she loved me and she deeply regretted her actions and that she didn't want me to hurt anymore and that one of the things that hurt me the most was actually a huge misunderstanding. Which could be bullshit, but it's not. It wasn't. She actually was able to explain how one of her actions which broke my heart in two was actually driven by a different motive than the one I had ascribed to it. But by that point back then, we weren't talking anymore. So. I find out she made big mistakes back then, which I knew, I found out she didn't have quite the hateful motive I interpreted at the time, which I didn't know. The most important thing I found out that I didn't know was that Roommate Girl still loved me and she didn't want me to hurt anymore.
Oh.
My.
God.
And if I had stuffed these feelings with food, I would have never found this out.
Ever.
So you see why I'm grateful?
Love,
Shula
(pause)
(sigh)
(smile)
Cool. That's something to celebrate. So anyway, what I was saying earlier is all caveats aside, there's a term I heard from AA "Hi I'm (name) and I'm a grateful recovering alcoholic." The key word here is grateful.
I am grateful.
There's a line from a movie that comes to mind; a movie called The Doctor. In the movie (Netflix it you'll enjoy it) William Hurt plays a doctor that is a cariacature of the obnoxious-SOB-who-thinks-he's-God-doctor. As the movie progresses, the doctor learns he has a fatal disease and has a short time to live. And he changes his life from the inside out, because he knows he only has a while to live. While the doctor is engaging in a random act of kindness, one of his colleagues is surprized and asks him what he is doing. The doctor's reply: I have an illness that has given me permission to live like I like because I won't be living much longer. They key phrase for me is "gives me permission".
I don't have a fatal illness, but if I let this addiction to food run wild, it could destroy my health. It could have become fatal. Easy. And I have found that by living my life sober (which for me is eating with gratitude and joy until I'm no longer physically hungry and not to numb or stuff my feelings) by living my life sober, and working to stay sober, has given me permission to do some really brave stuff.
I'll give you an example.
Several days of not eating sugar when I want to "calm my nerves" (read: stuff my feelings) several days of this has made it really clear to me that resentment is often the trigger to me having the urge to eat addictively. Another AA quote comes to mind "resentment will kill ya" or "resentment is an emotion I cannot afford if I want to stay sober". Damn! Those AA folks really have some wisdom don't they? (grin) So anyway, my point is if I want to eat healthy and not eat addictive I have to deal with my resentment.
This morning, I shared a tearful phone call with the roomate I lived with when Delighted Husband and I got engaged. I moved out soon thereafter when I-oh how do I say this without maligning her? Sigh. Let's just say our friendship and my living there ended badly and I felt forced into buying my way out of the lease. I could say more, but that's enough. The point is that I has resentment towards her.
So I haven't seen this gal in years and years. Twelve or thirteen years. I had done some forgiveness work in counseling and I felt it was a good outcome that angry thoughts of her no longer entered my mind. Live and let live and all of that.
Well this morning, she and I spent a half hour on the phone with both of us taking turns crying and her telling me she loved me and she was so sorry and me telling her I loved her and I forgave her. She prayed for me that I would be healed. And I was.
Now how in the sam hill did this happen??
This happened because I kept running into mutual friends of her every.where. and thoughts of her, no fear of running into her, this bone deep anxiety just permeated my thoughts. And when bone deep anxiety permeates my thoughts, you know what I am tempted to do, dontcha?
Medicate my feelings with chocolate. Or any other sugar I can get my hands on. After a few days, I knew I had to deal. I knew if I didn't deal with this situation, deal with her one way or another that I was going to act addictively.
My connection with this mutual friend made it possible for me to send a message to Roommate Girl via email. I typed out this message:
(name)
Out of the blue, God has brought you to mind several times over the last few days. I think God wants to heal a piece of my heart. Would you help me? Maybe you will feel healing too.
I'd like to call you and talk for 20 minutes or so. What is a good time and a good number for you?
(my name)
Through the same grapevine chain, came this reply:
I would love that. My cell number is (number) and you can most easily reach me during (time)
So I called her.
Now I had done my homework with God early this morning. I sat down with my journal and wrote out what I wanted to say to her, what I hoped to say to her if I actually had the courage to go through with it. Basically, I told our parting story from my point of view using I statements instead of you statements and telling what her actions were and what my feelings were. I cried several times while writing it, and I cried a lot after I finished writing it. I felt what I can only describe as God comforting me. Just a peace and that Himself was proud of me.
When I called Roommate Girl, I reasurred her that I didn't hate her and that I just wanted to feel free of pain and resentment and would she please let me talk from my heart for a few minutes. She said that would be okay. I broke down crying a few times as I told my story. Our story. The story of how our "us" died. When I started crying and stopped talking, she actually encourged me to keep going. At the end of my story, I told her "could you maybe love the me from all those years ago and could you maybe find a kind word to say to her?"
And she did.
Oh my God. She did. She told me she loved me and she deeply regretted her actions and that she didn't want me to hurt anymore and that one of the things that hurt me the most was actually a huge misunderstanding. Which could be bullshit, but it's not. It wasn't. She actually was able to explain how one of her actions which broke my heart in two was actually driven by a different motive than the one I had ascribed to it. But by that point back then, we weren't talking anymore. So. I find out she made big mistakes back then, which I knew, I found out she didn't have quite the hateful motive I interpreted at the time, which I didn't know. The most important thing I found out that I didn't know was that Roommate Girl still loved me and she didn't want me to hurt anymore.
Oh.
My.
God.
And if I had stuffed these feelings with food, I would have never found this out.
Ever.
So you see why I'm grateful?
Love,
Shula
What Does Sex Addiction Sound Like?
This is what it sounds like to me.
I was sweatin' with my girls at the gym when this song came up on the playlist. It's got a great groovy beat so I was enjoying the groove while I was on the lat pull machine. As I listened to the words, I pang of compassion sprang out of my heart and I thought, "Poor darling. That sounds like sex addiction." I hesitate to post this because I want to be known by what I am for not what I am against. But I have to tell you darlings, I don't believe the sexual behavior expressed in this song is going to yield the kind of high impact erotic joy I want for all of you. I'm just sayin'
Fast Love by George Michael
Looking for some education
Made my way into the night
All that bullshit conversation
Well baby can't you read the signs?
I won't bore you with the details baby
I don't even want to waste your time
Let's just say that maybe
You could help to ease my mind
Baby, i ain't Mr. Right
But if you're looking for fastlove
If that's love in your eyes
It's more than enough
Had some had luck
So fastlove is all that I've got on my mind
Gotta get up to get down
Gotta get up to get down
Gotta get up to get down
What's there to think about baby?
Looking for some affirmation
Made my way into the night
My friends got their ladies,
They're all having babies
But i just want to have some fun
I won't bore you with the details baby
Gonna get there in your own sweet time
Let's just say that maybe
You could help to ease my mind
Baby, i ain't Mr. Right
But if you're looking for fastlove
If that's love in your eyes
It's more than enough
Had some had luck
So fastlove is all that I've got on my mind
Gotta get up to get down
Gotta get up to get down
Gotta get up to get down
What's there to think about baby?
Get yourself some lessons in love
In the absence of security
I made my way into the night
Stupid cupid keeps on calling me
But i see nothing in his eyes
I miss my baby, oh yeah
I miss my baby tonight
So why don't we make a little room
In my BMW babe
Searching for some peace of mind
Hey I'll help you find it
I do believe that we are practicing
The same religion
You really ought to get up now
Looking for some affirmation?
Gotta get up to get down
Gotta get up to get down
Gotta get up to get down
At the end of the song, the instrumental closing fades off and it's almost as if you can feel the shame and loneliness rolling in like fog. It made me feel sick in the pit of my stomach. Now darlings, I've made it no secret that I have struggled with and continue to struggle with food addiction. I'm human like everyone else. I am no better and no worse than anyone. There's not a muscle in my body that wants to judge anyone. Me a judge? Jesus Mary and Joseph! Who are we kidding?! But since I've stopped lying to myself and the people in my life since I stopped stuffing my feelings down with food, I find there are things that I see whether I want to see them or not. Dammit! And that was a really groovy song, too. Now all it says to me is sadness.
I was sweatin' with my girls at the gym when this song came up on the playlist. It's got a great groovy beat so I was enjoying the groove while I was on the lat pull machine. As I listened to the words, I pang of compassion sprang out of my heart and I thought, "Poor darling. That sounds like sex addiction." I hesitate to post this because I want to be known by what I am for not what I am against. But I have to tell you darlings, I don't believe the sexual behavior expressed in this song is going to yield the kind of high impact erotic joy I want for all of you. I'm just sayin'
Fast Love by George Michael
Looking for some education
Made my way into the night
All that bullshit conversation
Well baby can't you read the signs?
I won't bore you with the details baby
I don't even want to waste your time
Let's just say that maybe
You could help to ease my mind
Baby, i ain't Mr. Right
But if you're looking for fastlove
If that's love in your eyes
It's more than enough
Had some had luck
So fastlove is all that I've got on my mind
Gotta get up to get down
Gotta get up to get down
Gotta get up to get down
What's there to think about baby?
Looking for some affirmation
Made my way into the night
My friends got their ladies,
They're all having babies
But i just want to have some fun
I won't bore you with the details baby
Gonna get there in your own sweet time
Let's just say that maybe
You could help to ease my mind
Baby, i ain't Mr. Right
But if you're looking for fastlove
If that's love in your eyes
It's more than enough
Had some had luck
So fastlove is all that I've got on my mind
Gotta get up to get down
Gotta get up to get down
Gotta get up to get down
What's there to think about baby?
Get yourself some lessons in love
In the absence of security
I made my way into the night
Stupid cupid keeps on calling me
But i see nothing in his eyes
I miss my baby, oh yeah
I miss my baby tonight
So why don't we make a little room
In my BMW babe
Searching for some peace of mind
Hey I'll help you find it
I do believe that we are practicing
The same religion
You really ought to get up now
Looking for some affirmation?
Gotta get up to get down
Gotta get up to get down
Gotta get up to get down
At the end of the song, the instrumental closing fades off and it's almost as if you can feel the shame and loneliness rolling in like fog. It made me feel sick in the pit of my stomach. Now darlings, I've made it no secret that I have struggled with and continue to struggle with food addiction. I'm human like everyone else. I am no better and no worse than anyone. There's not a muscle in my body that wants to judge anyone. Me a judge? Jesus Mary and Joseph! Who are we kidding?! But since I've stopped lying to myself and the people in my life since I stopped stuffing my feelings down with food, I find there are things that I see whether I want to see them or not. Dammit! And that was a really groovy song, too. Now all it says to me is sadness.
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