Weight

I was just about ready to have some breakfast, but was writing to someone about weight and (I think) I’d like to share on that. The underlying problems of the bulimic/anorexic are not about weight. I remember wanting to be skinny and weightless, because that was childlike, and I missed being a child. Life seemed so much easier then — looking back, at least. And yet, weight is a major issue, besides learning to love, trust, forgive, mourn, …. and live. Feel free to insert your own issues. Those were my major ones.

I hadn’t really thought about it for a long time, but like I said, I just did. I generally avoid numbers and weights, knowing that we are all so competitive, but I will dare to give some hard numbers. Before I do that, though, I will confess that I am still slim and still concerned about my appearance. In fact, I am practically vain, and don’t think I could stand to be overweight. Recovery doesn’t mean you don’t care about your appearance. You just care differently. For me, it just means accepting my normal weight — which I didn’t get to pick as ideal. My body settled at that all by itself.

So, now to the numbers. I won’t actually give the weight, just comparisons. During my last major relapse-trying-to-recover phase, I weighed around 15 pounds more than at my worst skin-and-bones phase. At that time, I considered it to be the ideal weight, and hoped to recover and keep that weight. It wasn’t enough and I was still starving, so the inevitable binges kept happening. I also couldn’t sleep (ketosis?). Now, get a load of this, I weigh nearly 20 pounds more than that ideal weight. And I am still skinny!!! (But not in an unhealthy way.) These numbers simply knock me over!

I don’t want to brag about weighing so much more than I once did, but I want to state it as a fact of necessity. How many times I actually wished I could magically weigh this much again, because I just couldn’t bear the reality of having to gain the weight back. It was awful. Gaining weight is about giving up control, and I needed to have things under control. Yet, back then when I looked in the mirror, I would gain ten pounds just by looking. At first glance, I would think, “Oh, I’m slim.” Then I’d look closer, and “realize” that I was horribly fat. I never left out an opportunity to look in a mirror, or at my reflection in a store window. I kept hoping to see how I “really” looked, but I wasn’t able to find myself. Not until I looked within and let myself come out.

I think I’d been concerned about looking good, because I felt that what was inside of me was so ugly and deformed, that no one could possibly stand it. So I tried to make up for it by being thin. I know, that’s a strange logic, but it’s how I thought.

It wasn’t until I absolutely surrendered and decided to eat, to do what it takes, and to give up control, that I was able to gain the weight back. Whatever my body settled on, I would accept. I guess the switch was that I really wanted to live, so my body became the vehicle to enable that rather than being my definition. I like my body now. I look in the mirror and I like what I see. I like how I feel, too. It’s all part of me, and feels just right. And now I am finally going to go have my breakfast!

Oh, one more thing. This past summer I had the feeling of going back 30 years and picking up where I left off in my emotional development. (Yes, there are still some issues to be dealt with!) I felt a strong urge to buy the two Supertramp CDs that I had listened to as records back then (Even in the Quietest Moments and Crime of the Century). Many songs I still know by heart. They got me through some of my darkest hours. You might want to check them out.

My Children and their Food

I confess, I wanted to be a perfect mother. Now that I have more experience in the matter, I opt for the “good-enough mother” description. As long as I do the best I can with the resources available at the moment, I am doing my job. You see, I ran myself ragged the first few (10?) years, and then realized that it was to nobody’s benefit.

Naturally, there is one especially important issue: Food. I have a burning desire to prevent eating disorders in my children. How? I never make them finish everything on their plates – not even if there’s only one bite left. I encourage them to serve themselves, so they get a sense of how much they need. Now I sometimes regret that I wasn’t more insistent about them at least trying new things, but that’s how it is.

Part of my recovery was about being good to myself, which means the food looks nice, and if it’s meant to be served warm, then that’s how I want to eat it. A cold, chopped-up half-portion on a child’s plate does not interest me. As a rule, I never finish things on their plates. Table scraps are table scraps, and I am not a garbage can! Neither are my children!

My husband grew up without eating disorders but with less abundance, and has a tendency to finish things. (His parents experienced the Second World War and the food scarcity, which left an impression on him.) He suggests that the children finish things on their plates, but it’s more a reflex on his part – a habit I gently ignore. They don’t let it bother them. He has mentioned the starving children in China, and my son at one point asked: “What good will it do them if I eat this?” Lately, I’ve taken to joking: “Ask Papa if he wants to eat it. Otherwise I’m sending it to China.” By no means do I encourage waste, I just don’t want things swallowed at all costs.

Unfortunately, I was overzealous with my first-born. I cooked vegetables and pureed them myself, but overdid it on the carrots. To this day, she cannot eat carrots. (Back then I didn’t quite get it about the need for variety.) In fact, she doesn’t like most vegetables, which is a shame, but I can’t force her to eat them. I keep hoping she’ll end up with a boyfriend who likes vegetables. Never underestimate the power of love! (Meanwhile, a couple of her favorite meals actually have vegetables smuggled into them!)

I definitely made some mistakes, but on the positive side: I breastfed both babies for 9 or 10 months, I give them regular meals, and don’t have much snack food in the house. Now that they are teenagers, they like to take their meals in front of the TV at times – and sometimes their schedule varies, because they are out with friends or hanging out in their rooms on the weekend, and at 10 pm suddenly realize they are starving! But generally we eat together at the table. There is no TV in that room, and the radio is always off during meals. For me, the importance of the meal is not what’s on the table, but that we are all sitting together.
My daughter has a weakness for ice cream, but I blame that on the heat wave during my pregnancy. Cold baths and ice cream were a matter of survival! She definitely does tend towards sweets. I have enough in the house to prevent feelings of deprivation, but not enough that it becomes a problem.

My son is easier. He likes vegetables and has always been a good eater. Maybe that’s because he had more variety from the start. He likes sweets as well, but is quite moderate. (Funny enough, during that pregnancy there was another heat wave, but I didn’t eat quite as much ice cream.) His behavior reassures me that either I didn’t do everything wrong, or that a lot has to do with a person’s character. (I don’t mean just about eating!) He is the athletic type and easy going.

Watching children eat and grow is a unique experience. Sometimes it seems like they get by on nothing. Other times they consume large quantities as if they’re starving and you can literally watch them grow.

My daughter had the tendency to get a bit pudgy, then shoot up a few inches. That was her rhythm. She is not very athletic. (She gets that from me! I think we both grew too quickly and were thus uncoordinated. As an adult, I’m coordinated and enjoy sports more than I did back then.) When she was 11 years old, her tummy was again round for a long time. I made a subtle effort to be more active and cut back on cookies, but I did not make an issue of it. I remember one occasion when we went out to dinner with two other families. One of the fathers and his teenage son are both somewhat overweight and he had mentioned it as a problem on past occasions. My daughter wanted dessert. This man, meaning well, I am sure, said something to the effect of: “Are you sure you want dessert? Look at that stomach! Don’t you want to have a nice figure?”

I was furious, but managed to control myself. I glared at him and indicated that he be quiet. My daughter told him that she always gets a bit round before growing taller, just as I had explained to her at some point. After she enjoyed her dessert and went outside with the other children to play (they have a wonderful yard and play area at this restaurant, which is very popular with families), I told him that I’d had an eating problem for several years, that I would not make an issue out of a little tummy in puberty, that I don’t want him to make any more such comments in her presence, and that guilt is not the way to deal with it – the best way to start an eating disorder is to feel guilty and go on a diet. I won’t go into exact details, but today he is still overweight, and my daughter is now taller than I am, beautiful, and slim. And she still enjoys the occasional dessert!

She still has a slightly round tummy, which sometimes bothers her. I tell her she looks fine, which she does. Actually, since she’s started going out more and walking more (and I stopped driving her everywhere), that tummy has diminished of its own accord.

An experience of my own comes to mind. When I was 13, a male friend of the family patted me on the butt and made a comment about my curves. That shocked me, and I felt dissatisfied with my body and very uncomfortable.

I remember when my daughter was in kindergarten, she came home one day and asked me if I thought my thighs were too fat! I was quite surprised, but said, “No. I’m happy just the way I am.” I’ve worked hard to promote that image, as I know how much we pick up from our mothers. (Mine was tall and skinny and always on a diet! I realized later she used to binge and then fast. Many years later she confessed that she’d even tried to throw up, but had never been able to do it. Gee, am I surprised about my own behavior as a young woman?)

So, it’s not easy. I do the best I can as a mother, and still have to cope with outside/societal influences as well, over which I have no control. Things are generally working out well. I have conveyed an attitude towards food as being a pleasant necessity, but not overly important. It is definitely not an enemy, which is how I once perceived it. In retrospect, there are a few things I would do differently, but isn’t life always like that?
My daughter just got home after a long day at school and said, “Mommy, I’m starving! Please make me something nourishing to eat!” Little things like that make my day.

My Food History (Why it's not all health food)

I am a child of the late 1960’s. Shortly after the Woodstock festival, we began to spend a lot of time in the town of Woodstock, and my mother discovered the health food store there.

It didn’t take long before our sweet breakfast cereals were replaced with granola, and the candy bars became sesame treats. We had a large garden, so vegetables were always a main staple. My mother was an excellent cook. It wasn’t until after the divorce when she started working that we discovered canned foods.

She has a tendency to be extreme, which I resented. So, when I got healthy, there was one thing I was sure about: I was not going to be extreme. My food would be middle-of-the-road, a little of this, a little of that. That’s exactly how it is.

Now that I’m older and understand more about nutrition, I appreciate my mother’s knowledge and am trying to improve our diet. Just gradually, so they barely notice it. I believe it is important to take care of myself, but I am not willing to go to such an extreme that I eat something just because it’s healthy, and deny myself something just because it’s unhealthy. My motto is: Everything in moderation. I know that sounds kind of boring and reasonable, but it’s not. It means I can have everything!!! (Just not in mass quantities!) In heart, I am a hedonist. I believe that my enjoyment is of equal importance as the nutritional value.

My daughter has a nickel allergy, and has a rash on her stomach from a belt buckle. She was complaining about it, and I mentioned it to my mother, who immediately made some nutritional suggestions. I welcome the opportunity as a chance for change. My daughter’s wish for nice clear skin makes her willing to eat better, so we are working on that. (She’s willing to eat less white bread and more whole wheat.) I prefer the approach of working with food to feel good as well as to support health, rather than food being an enemy I have to cope with. I also found a place that sells nickel-free belt buckles, and she actually found two that she likes!

Over the years, my mother and I have had some heated discussions about the pros and cons of various approaches to eating. At this point, I’m not so concerned about whether or not one of us is right. I still consider her approach extreme, but I am willing to take her advice on some things. For me it’s very important that I feel good and comfortable about how I eat. Just as eating disorders are about more than the food, so is healthy eating!

Why am I not satisfied when I eat?

I see that someone used this as a search term today, and that got me thinking. There are some basic reasons I can think of.

Because:
- I want something else
- I eat so fast that I don’t really taste it
- I feel guilty and think I should really eat something else
- I don’t eat enough
- I’m distracted
- I’m not really hungry
- I’m starving
- I want more
- I don’t feel good
- I want love
- my eating is so screwed up that I don’t feel hunger or satisfaction
- I want to relax
- I am tired

Of course, it depends on whether this lack of satisfaction is meant on a physical (satiation) or more emotional level. I can be satisfied when my needs and desires are met.

My thoughts wander to reflection on what I want. What would satisfy me? As a matter of fact, that is how I learned to eat foods that used to trigger a binge. They were the so-called sinful, forbidden delights. I turned it around. Rather than they being forbidden fruits (ok, not fruits, they were usually sweeter), I asked myself: What do I want? If I want a piece of that, I can have it. Which led to: What do I want now? Do I want anything now? Sure enough, after a while, I realized it wasn’t about taking whatever was offered. Not at all. It was about how I felt at the moment. It was my choice. That was not about discipline; it was about what I chose and how I felt.

It’s not as if I’m invited out all the time, but there plenty of occasions where tempting things are offered. If I am hungry, I will take a piece. If I want to. I am allowed to eat what I want, because I said so. I am also allowed to say No.

This brings me to the affirmation that there is enough for me. There will always be enough and it will be there at the appropriate time. As a matter of fact, there is more than enough, so it is my right to pick and choose. See, when you turn it around, you can fulfill your needs. Self-denial is no longer necessary. And when that is the case, there is no more guilt. And when that is the case, there is no need to gulp down a dozen, while at the same time swearing I’ll never eat it again. And it doesn’t occur to me to wolf down anything, because I am entitled to enjoy it.

Sometimes I wonder if our basic drive to survive plays a role. Going back to the gatherers and hunters, they had to eat what was there. Our western civilization has evolved incredibly to the point that we have way too much food, but perhaps our bodies still react in that primitive way when they see food: Eat it! There may not be any more for a long time after this! It takes a while to re-condition.

This all takes a lot of honesty, clarity and practice, but it does work. And it works on a long-term basis, which is what recovery and normal eating are about – for me. I can only speak for myself and what I consider to be normal. After a while, it stretches out to include much more than food. Do I want company? Do I want to be alone? What do I want in this relationship? What is being offered? Is that enough? In a sense, I suppose I can’t be satisfied until I know what I want.

I know I kind of went off on a tangent, and I don’t know what you were looking for, but maybe these thoughts might help.

Normal Eating: How I learned to eat

My 13-year history of anorexia/bulimia left me with an enhanced sensitivity about food. My own eating behavior at this point is pretty normal. Some people might even consider it boring! My awareness extends more to other people. I observe the eating behavior of those around me – not in a condescending way, but I am simply curious why so many people have such difficulty with food, on both ends of the spectrum. I observe unrealistic expectations and lack of enjoyment. Just think how often you hear people say, “Oh, it looks sinfully good. I really shouldn’t.” If they eventually eat the sinful object, they feel guilty.

Consider one essential ingredient of most women’s magazines. At the airport recently, I was looking for something interesting, but almost every one of them was bragging about some great diet. I think one of them even claimed you could lose 8 pounds in 12 days. Actually, not to go off on a tangent, but this reminds me of the pollution problem. How often have we heard about how much waste is involved with packaging? We are told not to wrap presents, to buy with “waste awareness.” But if one takes a good look around, packaging is increasing at a rapid pace, and the packaged items are getting ever smaller. It is absurd.

How does that relate to food? Well, how many times have we heard that to lose or maintain weight, we need to change our diet or have a consistent diet, and that it is unhealthy to lose more than a couple of pounds in a certain time frame? Anyone who has ever dieted knows this, I am sure. There is no quick fix. Those who keep looking for one are probably intimately acquainted with the yo-yo effect.

So, today I thought I would outline my steps toward lasting recovery. In addition to Overeaters Anonymous and therapy, at some point I finally realized that food is actually fuel to keep me going. Despite my desire to deny it, I admitted that I wanted to live, and accepted that I needed food to survive. Recovery is about honesty.

Let me warn you from the start: This is not a how-to-recover list of instructions; it’s just what I did. Since I’ve always been stubborn and felt that I had to do everything on my own, I did it with the food as well. As I have said time and again, I wish I’d consulted a nutritionist. But I didn’t.
After several near recoveries, lasting anywhere from a few days to a few months, I realized two things: I wasn’t eating enough during the times of recovery; thus I would binge at some point simply because I was so hungry. The second enlightening realization was: I didn’t know HOW to eat! I set out to research roughly how many calories I actually needed, and what three normal meals a day would look like.

Then I decided to eat three meals a day consistently – no more and no less. From previous experiences with recovery, I knew that I would be constipated, feel funny, possibly gain weight, feel weird or even panicky. So at the outset I vowed to see it through. You see, I’d decided that I’d really had enough of the sickness and I was willing to do whatever was necessary to recover. (I was only doing it for myself, by the way, not to make anyone else happy!)

There were no forbidden foods, no diet foots, and no low-calorie foods to binge on. My goal was normal eating. The only criteria was: it had to taste good. Why? Because I wanted to be satisfied, and I am a person of extremes. If I am not satisfied, I will eventually want more. (That was usually the point when I went off to the races.) I did get a fair amount of exercise at the time – jogged a couple of times a week for about 30 minutes, biked to work and night school – since I hoped that regular exercise would get my metabolism going.

When I ate, I always made sure that I had enough time, and chewed thoroughly. That enabled me to taste the food, to enjoy it, and by eating slowly, the body could send the “full” signal at the appropriate time. (I remember reading that somewhere as well. It’s true!) Now I am still a slow eater. When I try to “keep up” with other people, I generally end up with an upset stomach. It’s much pleasanter to eat slowly.

After a few months (or possibly longer, I don’t remember), something happened. I actually began to feel hunger and satiation. That brought me to the next step: varying the amounts, depending on my degree of hunger. Sometimes I ate more, sometimes less, but it always balanced out. It was important to not overeat, as that feeling was uncomfortable and to be avoided.

Of course it didn’t stop from one day to the next. During the first year or two, there were a few incidents. They generally were stress-related, and so I learned to recognize them as a warning signal and work with them. There was no need to punish myself or feel bad, I just took it to mean that my coping mechanisms needed some fine tuning.

Since I’d been somewhat underweight when I began recovery, I did gradually gain some weight back. Through regular, normal eating, my body was able to find its comfortable/appropriate working weight, and that has been my weight now for nearly 20 years (with the exception of two pregnancies, and over the winter I sometimes put on an extra 3 or 4 pounds, but that disappears by itself). There is no more up and down. (Oops! I actually have gained a few pounds since turning 40, but it was so gradual and barely noticeable, that I still feel the same. I just wanted to say that, to avoid fostering another unrealistic expectation!)

What you need to realize is: There is no quick fix. It doesn’t pay to deprive yourself – you’ll make up for it eventually! And recovery is about making a commitment to yourself. You are not perfect and don’t have to do it perfectly. Life is about ups and downs, why should recovery be different?
Although an eating disorder is awful, it is familiar. It’s kind of like being stuck in a bad relationship. My biggest hindrance in life is and has been fear – fear of everything and fear of the unknown. It was a big help to be willing to open up and try something different, a different way of life. But I think I’ll save that, as well as the issue of a distorted self-image, and the fact that bulimia and anorexia are not just about food for another blog, because the sun is shining and I want to go out for a walk. And I think this one offers enough food for thought. Remember? One step at a time!