History of an Eater

The book I'm reading, "Stop Eating Your Heart Out," one, is totally awesome, and two, has assignments or exercises for 21 days, or you can spread it out over a longer period of time.  Anyway, the first exercise is to write out your food history.

Boy, that was fun.  Actually, I've done quite a bit of it here on "Confessions of a 2nd Grade Closet Eater" but I tried to go back chronologically from my very first memory of food and move forward from there.  It was a compelling exercise and brought to light some of the reasons I have chosen eating or food in general, over true nourishment.

Here are a few thoughts I wrote down in no particular order, some good, others notsomuch, and without a grammatical care in the world:

• "Clean your plate.  There are starving kids in Africa."
• We ate meals together as a family, and I liked that...
• Latchkey kid who ate crap while no one was looking because I think I was afraid or alone...Hershey syrup on saltines.
• My mom made balanced meals with veggies and protein.
• I loved going to my best friend's house for dinner b/c they ate at Taco Bell and McDonald's a lot.
• I ordered cheeseburgers and Shirley Temples whenever we went to a restaurant...that is, until I tasted fresh crab legs.
• We made homemade cookies together.  My mom didn't buy them.  I liked that.
• My mom packed healthy lunches.  In junior high I would sometimes throw my food in the trash and buy french fries and chocolate shakes.
• I remember in elementary school sitting on the toilet counting fat rolls on my belly, even though my arms and legs were long and lean.  Always had a round face.  (*this was enlightening in regard to my gluten/dairy/egg allergy and all I know about it NOW!)
• In High School I NEVER, EVER, EVER drank pop.  It was my "thing" I guess.  I cleaned up my eating somewhat and was involved in sports, so ate more for strength.  What a concept?
• I started dieting in 9th grade with bouts of Slim Fast shakes and weeks of Weight Watcher menus.
• "Don't eat that.  It will make you fat."
• Though I ate junk openly all growing up, the effects and conversation about it was more focused on weight/fat/appearance rather than avoiding certain foods for health and nutrition reasons.
• Gross:  in elementary school my big sister and I would fight over who got to gnaw on the juicy steak bone at my grandparents house...ewwww.
• In college at SAGA I lined up 2 waters and 2 Dr. Peppers across my tray at lunch and dinner.  I would also eat a Twix bar almost every day and Little Debbie shit at 11:00 at night on Mondays at Hall Meeting...the "Snack Chairwoman" would be BEAT if she forgot our carbs...
• When I crave it's always sugar and carbs, treats, "rewards", the forbidden foods - like forbidden fruit?
• In High School my grandparents told me they were worried about my weight (remember round face).  Who knew all along I was eating all my allergens?!  I have been 5'9ish since high school and weighed 140 when I graduated...and my grandparents were worried about my weight?!  Nice!  $%^&*  If that doesn't mess with a teenage girls' heart, I don't know what does.  Looking back, I wasn't actually FAT until I worked at NWC and ate dorm food like one of the kids!

Anyway, there are more and more nuggets I wrote down, but it's a good exercise to simply write your heart out on paper.  There's also an exercise to write a food journal in the book, which has been easy this last week while fasting :)  Ummm, liquids or veggies.

Without further ado, here's day 6.  (*I'll post day 5 prior to 6 so you can see, if any, changes.  Also, note, now that we are back in full swing of a school schedule, my first-thing-in-the-morning pictures are literally first-thing...like, uber early, so who knows if this experiment will show healthy benefits or just that I'm getting old ;)  )

Day 5

Day 6...and I promise that is a different white t-shirt!  I have 4!  Which is a #firstworldproblem but that's another post...when I said early, I mean, there may be bags :)  My sinuses are totally CLEAR!  No stuck joints this morning.  And, I did my lower body "Lift Like a Girl" program with craploads of energy!  Even extra reps...

I'll leave you with this, from a scripture card my friend printed and laminated for me years ago which I keep on my jewelry box sitting in my closet:

"Because your love is better than life, my lips will glorify you.  I will praise you as long as I live, in your name I will lift up my hands.  My soul will be satisfied as with the richest of foods; with singing lips my mouth will praise you."  Psalm 63:3-5 NIV

Here it is in the Message:

"God - you're my God!  I can't get enough of you!  I've worked up such hunger and thirst for God, traveling across dry and weary deserts.  So here I am in the place of worship, eyes open, drinking in your strength and glory.  In your generous love I am really living at last!  My lips brim praises like fountains.  I bless you every time I take a breath; My arms wave like banners of praise to you."

I Ask Myself?

So, as a result of yesterday's post I received some encouraging emails, texts, calls, prayers offered up for my crazy self.  Thank you!  Seriously!  Thank you all so much for your encouragement!  I promise I wasn't fishing, but I will say your love and support has lifted me!  (I linked yesterday's post to Facebook...here's what I said along with it: 

"To be real honest with you, I don't like sharing this particular blog with friends...it's easier to share it with strangers who don't know me from Adam, don't care about me, and won't ever hold me accountable. So, please forward this to "other people" and let's just keep pretending I have my act together..."

One friend emailed me the questions, "YIKES!  This has nothing to do with 10 lbs on the scale.  You are absolutely being tyrannical and why?"; "You would never approach your Emily with this kind of perfectionist rant.  But it's okay to treat yourself this way.  Why?"; and finally, "I think I would want you to ask yourself - for the next 24 hours - to prayerfully seek out what you are so angry about. I had a counsellor spring this on me once and I was in shock and considerable denial. What? Me angry? No way!"

So, I asked myself...

Am I angry about something?  I don't think I'm angry, but am I, indeed angry?

WHOA!  I tell you what, all you have to do is pick up the phone and call the counseling office...you don't even have to make an appointment, just the act of it can set digging up the past and healing for the future in motion!   And, of course, asking yourself if you are angry about something...but DO actually make the appointment since the can of worms is open and not meant to be tackled alone.  (Unfortunately for you, I don't feel like it's appropriate to go into all my anger issues here either ever, or, at least until I speak to a counselor who can help me maybe put it into words that can encourage you on your own journey.)

My friend is partly right.  It isn't about 10 lbs up or down on the scale.  And, it is.  I feel like I've lived the last 20ish years of my life wishing I could just lose those last "10 lbs."  And I DID lose those last 10 lbs, just a few months ago, and about 10 lbs ago. 

And inside, and outside, I was happy!

I DID IT!  I STUCK WITH SOMETHING, STAYED DISCIPLINED, WORKED HARD, AND FOLLOWED THROUGH!!!!

But it had been a goal for so long that when I reached it, I really didn't know what to do with it.  It sounds so strange, I realize, but it's almost like I didn't know how to be the 10 lb lighter me.  (THIS WOULD HAVE BEEN AN IDEAL TIME TO HAVE BEEN IN COUNSELING...NOTE TO SELF...) 

I did it for me and only for me, so I wasn't ready or even thinking about what others would say.  I mean, when we watch "The Biggest Loser" we cheer them on, even shed tears we are so happy for them, but when I finally break through a physical stronghold that has symbolically been a spiritual and mental battlefield, there was no party held or overall congratulatory sentiment.  Instead, with wrinkled brow one person said I was too skinny.  Someone else said they weren't used to me being thin.  "You're not eating enough," spoken to me as I was eating an extra large salad with meat, veggies, oil and nuts on top...

Don't get me wrong, there were plenty that celebrated with me.  They told me "Great Job!" and "Tell me what you did?!"  I was encouraged and shared my story, encouraged them they could do it too, that I hadn't felt healthier inside or out in years, that I was so glad I finally felt clean and healthy.  It helped my heart to know I could encourage someone else on a similar journey.

So then why were those few negative comments so detrimental to my mindset?  Why did I listen to their words, digest them, and instead of allowing them to leave my body as waste, keep those negative sentiments (disguised as concern) stored up in me?  (*Did you know that fat cells store toxins?  Do you see the symbolism here?)

Anyway, the big bold letters up top tell a lot of the story...

I'm glad my friend posed the questions that she did.  It gives me some homework to do over the next few weeks as I prepare for counseling.  Poor counselor better hold on tight and bring a napkin because I think I may just puke all over her...symbolically, of course!

F...f...f...f...f...forgi....forgive...ness

Man!

Jesus said some hard stuff.

Like the one about forgiving 7 x 7o times. At least we can stop forgiving the culprit at offense number 491...it gets me through sometimes...just kidding.

So what does that mean? Let someone keep treating me like crappola? That is not what forgiveness means. It's not what Jesus meant. I think it went more like this:

• In junior high a boy told me I was fat in my bikini. I wasn't. He was just an ego-maniac and I was a 7th grader who had hit puberty. At the time I just thought he was an idiot. Over time he's proven it. After some time I forgave him. And since then, as I can still remember the kid and remember the conversation, I have had to forgive him as the offense creeps up into my heart, even as a 30+ year old.
• My freshman year of high school, a sophomore boy I thought was cute, who flirted with me even, told me I was built like a football center. I wasn't. He was. But, over the years as I've looked in the mirror his words of pure ignorance have come to mind, even though that has never been the reflection at all. I have had to forgive him, even though he has no place in my life as a grown up, because those words, those lies, come to mind even now.
• Someone I was hesitant about anyway recently went off on me cat-fight style. I was shocked. The person is younger than me, so part of me wrote it off as that, but the words the person chose were so targeted, hurtful, direct and calculated that, even after extending forgiveness, the conversation and nasty emails still creep up into the forefront of my mind sometimes, causing me to be offended by that other person...and defensive in my heart and mind. But, as their face flashes through my mind and I encounter their insincere greetings or gestures, I remember what Jesus said and say in my heart, "I forgive that person...I forgive that person...I forgive that person." I may be nearing 490 for that particular person...but maybe that's why Jesus said that number, because He knew no one would really want to keep track...
• There are more, and you could name a few, too, I would venture to guess?
  

The point is, it's not that the person continually offends me, it's that I have allowed those lies and hurtful thoughts to linger...I have held onto them. I have held them close in order to justify the walls I have built around my heart.

Jesus didn't encourage us to, "Say you are sorry 7 x 7o times." But, sometimes that's what we expect...we want the offender to be sorry. Of course that's a good thing to want, but we can't make another person feel badly about treating us like crappola. Not even holding onto unforgiveness can do that...that only makes us feel like crappola...

Instead, Jesus equipped the one whose heart would be hurt with the tool to be free, the tool of forgiveness, letting us know we will likely have to forgive that person on several occasions, perhaps for the same offense, perhaps for the repeated memories, but as we do, we will gradually know real freedom, real life, real living.

For years I have hidden and eaten for comfort...because people have said dumb things. No, because I believed their lies and tried to protect myself. Any excuse, every excuse.

I know now what they spoke were hurtful lies, not truth. And I let myself believe them.

But using food as a comfort because another hurt my feelings just lets them get the best of me...and no one but God can have that anymore!

Yes, it was their fault for opening their big mouths. We need to choose kind words.

Yes, it is up to me to forgive them. I need to choose love.

And, it's also up to me NOT to believe them but to believe what God says about me.

He doesn't think I'm fat in my bikini and He doesn't think I'm built like a football center...

...He thinks a lot more of me than either of those two really lame sentiments. Actually, God thinks the WORLD of me...which He demonstrated for me years ago on a cross...