“I could relate to the part about eating spoiled food.. not initially, because it grossed me out. I remember craving sugar soooo bad and being on a diet. There wasn’t any in the house. I remember finding the half of a container of chocolate frosting, from that cake I had baked months ago. I remember eating a little spoon of it to get my fix. To get that sweet sugar embedded in all the preservatives.. that sweet sugar that somehow melts and swims around in the pits of my mouth.. prodding each and every taste bud.. seducing them until they want more. I don’t know if that container was expired, but who in their right mind eats spoonfuls of month old opened frosting from the pantry? No one.. that’s the point.. the insanity is real.”
I could see the heads nodding as I spoke. They were relating. They were each reliving a memory of a time that they too had eaten something spoiled, or craved something that much. The insanity of this disease is indeed real. I shared about how I had gone thru every nook and cranny of my house, to throw food away that would never fit into my new menu. It’s what I had to do to get clean and sober. I had to flush that pound of marijuana. I had to throw away the vodka, the frozen gallons of daiquiris, and the loose alka pops. The same thing applied here. Anything that was packaged, processed, or didn’t fit into this plant based menu.. it had to go. Initially I had started creating a side pile of food that I could give to my friend down the street.. she had kids, and I wouldn’t want it to go to waste. I have such a HUGE hang up about food going to waste. I set another pile aside of “Community food” for the travelers coming thru. I remember the broke days of traveling, and how a pack of noodles, some butter, and maybe some cheese would constitute dinner.. all of which I had found in the cupboards of the hostel, left behind by previous travelers. My friend came over, and I started to go thru each box of macaroni and can of soup to see if she wanted it. It suddenly occurred to me that I had never bought mac and cheese. I don’t like mac and cheese, and that was there from my ex… THREE YEARS AGO! By the time we were done, there was barely anything left in the house.. which is good! Anything that is healthy for me wouldn’t last long anyway, and i am only one person. I don’t need a pantry full of food. A fridge and freezer stocked to full capacity. But what would people say? They’d think I was poor.. that I can’t afford to eat… Where the fuck did that belief come from?
So what was I saving it for? Hurricane Katrina 2? My fear of some day running out of food dictated so many of my decisions in the way I purchased food. I had to have a variety of food to satisfy my cravings.. of course I always seemed to crave something I didn’t have, that led me back to the store, where I ultimately bought a ton of crap I didn’t need to eat. I had to make sure I always had enough food in the house. I still had MRE’s from hurricane Katrina!! 10 years ago, i hadn’t eaten them in the most desperate situation of my life… and yet somehow I thought an apocalypse would come, and my means of survival would be this box of military rationings that had been delivered during the aftermath!!!!!!!
What in the actual fuck goes on in my mind?? These are actual thoughts that have floated on by and been accepted into my perception of normal behavior. Like, how does that thought ever get past the gate? It’s this little fucker of a disease.. the disease of compulsive eating.. the disease that HAS to know the plan for eating, or my whole world gets flipped upside down. It’s the insanity of the mountains of clothes in various sizes because i will always need each size at some point in the weight loss gain cycle of my life. It’s the insanity of the pain, torture, mental anguish and self hate that comes with the consequences of compulsive eating.. and yet I still want that fucking chocolate bar… its like russian roulette wrapped in foil every time. The inner war that comes with this disease drives people to suicide.. every day. That battle in the mirror every morning. Am I going to love myself or hate myself today? Seeing that reflection is certainly a handicap.. but when I look into the mirror.. can I look past the roll of fat? Can I look past the little black hairs that keep growing on my chin.. the same hairs I remember my great gran having… can I look past the scars where blades have severed the skin, and cigarettes have burned holes? Can I look past wrinkles that are beginning to appear around my eyes? The wrinkles that remind me I’m getting older, and still alone. Can I look past the tattoos of manic nights where it sounded like a great idea and the missing teeth from drunken brawls? If I can just get past that, then I have a shot.. because past the looks of my vessel lies my soul.. my heart.. my love for the universe around me.. and that is what’s important.
This was a perfect example to file under “evidence”. I HAD survived Katrina! I survived without needing those MRE’s. My higher power had provided a way. He sent me to work in a store that had small shipments coming in. A store in a less effected area. A store with an RV in the parking lot that had a generator or some means of cooling. My higher power took me out of the trenches to a place that I could be of assistance to others.. and I was! I went above and beyond extending myself wherever I could, all in the name of rebuilding what we had all lost, and THAT came from my soul. THAT is what I am made of. That I would give the shirt off of my back, and I have.. because I know that I will be provided for. That same higher power will be with me always, providing my needs.. so that I can continue being my purpose. I won’t check out of this place until my purpose is completely served.. no matter what that road looks like. For all I know, it could be to write this blog, that someone somewhere needs to read so they don’t jump off a bridge tonight? Maybe saving that life in this moment is my purpose.. and that’s it.. ? I personally hope I will be around a lot longer. I believe that space time continuum carries on no matter what, and the way we are treating our planet.. I’m not sure how many lifetimes I want to stick around for. What if how we treat this planet in this lifetime, determines the quality of the planet we are born to in the next?
It’s the deep thinker that I am that I love.. and I hope to attract.. for those long conversations about the what ifs of life.. It is the familiarity of my soul that will attract the right partner to me.. not the exterior. She is the other half of me, and that’s what matters to me the most. Having said that, if that were true, then I wouldn’t be so concerned about my weight, and my outer appearance. Maybe this is my lesson right now.. Learning to love myself unconditionally.. completely.
I sometimes wonder if the life my other half has been dealt this time is that of a straight man in Thailand or something of the sort. Not all lifetimes are for learning and experiencing love like that tho. Maybe this lifetime, my lessons are in the distant corners of our world? Maybe I’m not meant to meet a partner, and settle down like everyone else. Maybe I am meant to make a difference, and leave my legacy???
Well.. if that is the case, then I’d better quit eating spoiled cake frosting, and preparing for Armageddon when it comes to food.. it’s not exactly like i have a stock pile of batteries, bottled water, and flashlights…
Thank God for step Two.. “we came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity” Oh thank goodness!!! I don’t even have to be the one that restores my fucked up mind! My higher power is going to do that for me! I just have to show up. I just have to believe that a life outside of compulsive eating is possible for me. I too, can recover.
Tonights artichoke eggplant pizza!