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Another Diagnostic Moment

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So tonight I'm having a few similar feelings to last night, but not to such extremes. My dinner was much more controlled than last night, but I recognized an urge that I can't remember recognizing before. Once I had eaten an appropriate plate of dinner, I went back to get the remaining portion of mashed potatoes. I realized as I was putting them on my plate that I could and should wait for a bit before having seconds so that my body could adjust to what I had already eaten. Immediately on the heels of that thought was the recognition that I did not want to wait because I was afraid that I would hit my fullness point and would not get to eat the mashed potatoes.

Why fear? I don't understand what I'm so afraid of. I have never wanted for food in my life. I was not deprived either as a child nor as an adult. I cannot understand this pathological need to fill my body with food to the detriment of the rest of my life. I want to know what drives my need because maybe if I learn that I can figure out how to stop it.

I know, though, that the answer lies not in the comprehension, but rather in the obedience to what I know to be right action driven by God's will in my life. It's hard for me to stop myself and ask God if this is His will for me right now, but I have to begin to do it. The funny thing is, the very need to ask that question generally indicates that I already know the answer, but I don't like it. Here's the kicker: neither God, nor OA, nor Attila have ever told me I have to like it; in fact all I have to do is do it.

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What's Eating Me?

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I wish I had an answer for that question. Eating the way I did today makes me feel less than human. I'm really outing myself today and laying my vulnerability bare here by talking about the specifics of what I ate, which is not something I usually do to this degree except with my most trusted inner circle of friends, but maybe I can learn something or help someone else learn something by bringing my secret bingeing out in the open.

Lunch was leftover sesame chicken (about half a standard Chinese restaurant serving, sans rice) followed by a soup bowl of homemade chicken and noodles. I knew while I was eating the sesame chicken that it would be sufficient on its own. I knew this, and yet there was this odd fear in my gut - a feeling that somehow it would be insufficient and that would be A Bad Thing. My gut, however, couldn't tell me anything about why it would be A Bad Thing, it just did its utmost to convince me that my only path to survival lay in pretending I hadn't recognized my knowledge.

And so I did. In effect, I ate two lunches. This does nothing to convince me that I know what a proper portion size is, which was the topic of my latest conversation with Attila (my therapist). It also does nothing to convince me that I have any means at my disposal to actually defeat this ugly disease.

I followed the same foolish path with my dinner, only it was lemonade I filled up on, having not realized quite how thirsty I was until a large glassful had gone down. The funny thing is that that's a trick used by many dieters - drink a glass of water before eating so you will feel full faster. Ironic, seeing as I didn't want to feel full so I could eat whatever I wanted. Musta been the rebel inside me because I did it anyway and am really pissed at myself for it. I ate 3 mutantly enormous cheese-stuffed mushrooms, a bowl of baked potato soup, a large garlic cheese-stuffed chicken breast (and as if the cheese were not enough fat, the chicken was lightly breaded and fried), asparagus, and a mountain of mashed potatoes. I ate all but half the mashed potatoes.

I'm still unhappy even sitting here writing about it, but all I can do now is pray for God's forgiveness (done), try to forgive myself (or at least not beat myself up about it), and use this as a "diagnostic moment" as my nutritionist calls it. I can think about what moved me to do this today, pray about it, and plan for the next time I feel like this - for when I feel that need to eat past my levels of comfortability and fullness; past that knowledge that this is not what is best for me, not what I need, not even what I really want. I need to plan to think about what hole I'm trying to fill and find a healthier way to fill it. I did try to think about this today, but I was all too willing to do what was comforting and familiar - the behaviors I've engaged in for the past almost thirty years - the very behaviors that no longer protect me the way they I designed them to do.

What's eating me? I am.