It's a new day. The sun is shining. Do i want to be good to myself? Or do i want to hurt myself? The confusing part is that hurting myself feels good. But the good feeling doesn't last. Being truly good to myself, say, by exercising is hard to do, but you feel good longterm and reep longterm rewards.
I'm needing to process and talk out my day yesterday.
Yesterday started out great. Cliff had chocolate smoothie for breakfast...that's one of his favorites, and i had chia pudding...which was very reminiscent of oatmeal with the raisins and cinnamon and vanilla in it.
[On a side note, the pound of chia seeds i used ended up sucking up all of the sweetened cashew cream i mixed in with it and it is so hard now the next morning, like rock hard jello! I'm new to making chia pudding, so next time, i'll use 1/2 bag of chia for the same amount of sweetened cashew cream.]
Things proceeded on fine. I packed us a nice raw lunch in our soft purple igloo. We were going out for the day with unsure plans, so packing it was. I packed a big salad with "ranch" dressing, arnold's carrot "living bread", one avocado to share which i would prepare with a little celtic salt, garlic powder and lemon juice mashed on the living bread, a tomato, some dried organic figs.
I also took leftover chocolate smoothie, leftover green smoothie, more living bread for later and extra dressing, since we'd be out all day.
Lunch was lovely! We had a picnic in the car in the rain in the parking lot of a car dealer, that was fun! We both enjoyed salad with the fabulous dressing i made - ranch style - (blended cashews with garlic, chives, shallot, raw vinegar, celtic salt, agave. It was SUPER GOOD). We also had the avo mix on the raw bread, and a few dried figs for dessert.
Unfortunately, it became apparent that my eating habits suck. I eat so fast. Cliff eats so slow. He has a small mouth. And he takes small bites. I, on the other hand, have a big mouth (as if you didn't know), and take huge bites. And i chew quickly. Chew, chew, swallow. I am done eating when he is not even halfway through.
Cliff was full 1/2way through the salad, but took two bites of his avo covered cracker since i insisted, and ended up finishing the salad. He always remarks how wonderfully he feels after eating raw. Not bloated, not tired, but energetic. He admitted he could have eaten even less, but ate it because it was there.
I feel guilty often after i eat. I know i'm overeating, but i want to. Something inside of me clicks and i abuse food. I finished the rest of his avo cracker and poured more salad dressing on my salad than on his. i also snuck extra crackers when he was outside looking at cars in the rain on the carlot.
I rationalized and mentioned to him, "You know, i weigh alot more than you, and my caloric requirements are probably far greater than yours, that's why i eat more." (I weigh 280-ish. He weighs 180-ish.) "No," he countered, "You need to eat more like me, so you can look like me."
I couldn't argue.
The rest of the day, Cliff was a model of self-control. He asked himself if he was hungry and when he wasn't, didn't eat. Dinner for him was chocolate smoothie. A few dates grabbed later settled his hunger. I have to ask myself why i can't be more like him?
The rest of the day i had a kind of a grey cloud hanging over me. I knew i overate at lunch and it started the ball rolling. In this binge eating book i have it cautions that overeating can spur on a binge. It's true. I'm bad. I know it. I might as well take advantage of it.
Things were status quo as we visited Cliff's mom at the retirement home and had a nice visit. We went over my parent's house to visit them. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and actually thought i was looking much much better since going back to raw. I was pleased with how i looked and thought, heck, maybe i had managed to lose a few more lbs? The cooked food bloat was gone.
Visiting my parents was not as pleasant as i had hoped. My mom's health has got me seriously worried. She has been sick for well over a month with some kind of stomach ailment. Everything she eats comes up on her. I advise her to eat lightly. Stay away from fats, from proteins. Eat more fruit. Look into making smoothies like her neighbor Arlene does. When she listens to me, she feels better.
She also gets chronic laryngitis monthly, which really sets me reeling, being a person so finely attuned to the voice. "Are you drinking enough? Are you yelling alot again? You need to learn to support your voice!" I get so upset every time i hear her voice on the phone and she's hoarse, again.
This time, i felt maybe it was connected to what she had eaten. "Did you eat any meat, or dairy in the last few days?," i questioned, as these are foods i cautioned her to avoid. "I did have some cheese the other day," she confessed. I wonder if that did it?
I think my mother has an ulcer. Everything fatty or hard to digest gives her gastric problems, let alone her vocal problems, which could be reflux related or just some kind of a blockage. She is on a LOT of medications and they are drying, too. Whatever is wrong with her, it worries me severely.
At 4:30p.m., my parents were napping and I was slighty hungry. Cliff was napping, too, and i dug into our igloo. I had an unsatisfying salad (the fabulous ranch dressing didn't taste that great on iceberg lettuce, but was superior on romaine), and had a few peices of the living bread. There was a good movie on, and i was wanting to nosh for fun. I finished the living bread. I had a few dried figs. I was eating for entertainment. I wasn't happy about what i was doing, but the "opportunity" was there...i was alone with food, cliff was napping, and it entertained me.
I looked in my mom's snack closet and saw all of the things that i had eaten only a week ago that would be SO NICE to eat now. I saw potato chips and cookies and macaroni and cheese. I looked in her fridge and saw leftover chinese food containers. Chinese food? I LOVE Chinese food. It was the first time since starting raw again on Thursday that i had craved cooked food again. I was really miserable.
My parents went out, we watched TV and had a pleasant enough time. The eating had stopped for then.
Later when we got home, the binge continued. Cliff was parking the car and i ran into the house to start. I was in the kitchen in a zip and in the time it took him to park the car, i polished off two avocados slathered with that fabulous ranch dressing. [oh my god, incredible combo, gourmet restaurant worthy].
While Cliff was on the computer, oblivious to my binge, i snuck 4 raw cookies, 1/4 bag of kale chips, a raw chocolate bar and 3 lara bars into the living room, and polished those off. The crumpling of wrappers didn't alert him. I didn't know why i was doing it, but the sneaking was fun. Was i trying to get Cliff's attention? Was i worried about singing today at a rehearsal i am supposed to have later? Was i worried about my mother? Am i just trying to kill myself? Kill my voice with reflux?
I wanted cooked food now. I am bad. And i deserve bad. Or good. Whichever way you look at it. I tried to weasel my way into the basement to get some pasta from on top of the secret cooked food cabinet that cliff locked up downstairs. There is a 1/2 box of pasta sitting on TOP of the cabinet that was not locked up when Cliff had to fish out some honey one day when i had run out of raw honey. I know it's there. Just sitting there in the open. I wanted to cook it up and eat it last night. But Cliff was suspicious by then and followed me down the basement, where i was doing laundry, conveniently, with the ulterior motive of snatching the pasta box when the opportunity arose and shoving it in my skirt to cook up later when he went up to bed and i would stay up. I never could get it. He stayed downstairs with me and we walked up together, and by the time i was upstairs, i didn't even want it anymore.
I was having some serious reflux from all of the snacks i had eaten in a row. Betaine HCL helped to help me digest, but....what the hell had i done? And what did i WANT to do.
Earlier, envisioning the pasta box and what i was going to do, i planned a cooked binge for today. I'd get the Singapore Rice Noodles with Tofu and 2 Spring Rolls at the Chinese Restaurant, and then i'd head downtown to finally try the Fake Chikn Cheeze Steak at Govinda's that my coworker, Megan, has been raving about.
[On a side note, the other night after the movies downtown, (Did you see Jeff Bridges win for Best Actor at the Golden Globes last night?) i suggested to Cliff that we walk over to Govinda's and get the fake Chickn Cheeze Steaks. "I can handle it. I'll be okay!," I insisted. That's when HE insisted we get salads at the deli, which we did.] Drats... Foiled again.
On a positive note, I think often about that darling supportive email i recieved from my dear friend, Jan, talking about the stinkin' thinkin' that alcoholics have, "faulty reasoning," that i am plagued with as well. It finally dawned on me late last night that if i got that chickn cheeze steak today and the eggrolls that i'd be right back where i was and i wouldn't be able to stop again. I'm not happy as it is about the weight i gained on my many cooked food binges. Did i intend to do that much harm? No. Do i want to gain even more??? No. In the heat of the moment, those realizations never occur to me. It's good we have mostly everything locked up and not accessible, because I tell myself, i can have just a little and get back on track.
But that still small voice inside knows it's best to avoid that stuff for now, at least. Who knows, maybe some day. The logical part of me doesn't think there's anything wrong with cooked food. The addict part of me knows i like it a wee bit too much. And the worst part is it's EVERYWHERE. Start binge eating on cooked, and everywhere i look, there's something i want.
But, emotionally, what is really driving me? i know that i'm worried about my audition next week, and binge eating and getting the resulting reflux is the surest way to kill my voice, and when i'm nervous, for some reason, i want to harm myself.
I should try to remember more that saying attributed to Nelson Mandela about our worst fear not being that we are worthless, but that we are powerful beyond belief. We're afraid to shine our light, NOT afraid we're no good. I am afraid to shine my light sometimes. I don't know why.
I think all in all...i'm just an addict.
Have you seen, "Crazy Heart" yet? Jeff Bridges character was an alcoholic, but also a very very talented writer and singer. He was afraid of being sober that he couldn't live without booze and his body was addicted to it, but when things got bad enough, he needed to get sober. When he got sober, suddenly his craft started to improve. I think some people are just prone to be addicts, and i'm one of them. If it's not cooked food, it's gourmet raw, etc...
I've been thinking about something i saw on a Christian station on TV, "Self-control is a gift of the spirit and not a gift of the self." It made me realize why i have no self control sometimes. I'm not plugged in. I'm not living from my higher power then. I've been there, i know what it's like. I was plugged in at the Raw Union where i sang at Angela and Matt Monarch's wedding. I resisted the nerves, got proactive, practiced, sang pretty well, was in good voice, no reflux. Not every singing engagement sends me binge eating. I've often been quite proactive and tackled singing projects i considered stressful.
I do have alot on my plate, now, though: italian concert, donizetti opera, audition for opera restaurant, 'those were the days' concert for retirement homes. I'm avoiding alot. Instead of working on things. It's kind of my M.O. Procrastinate. And eat. And procrastinate. It doesn't really WORK, but fills the hours.
I'd better ask God for help to deal with all of this. "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things i cannot change, the courage to change the things i can, and the wisdom to know the difference."
xoxo michelle joy
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