OMG! Yesterday I saw myself. I avoid mirrors at all costs, except of course to apply a very sparse layer of make-up. We do have a full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door; however a robe is hung strategically over it whereby keeping perspective viewing at a minimum!
I was walking out the mall doors to the parking lot, and noticed a store to my left. I turned my head to see what the store was, and, OMG, what I saw made me sick. It was me. Bigger, wider and rounder than I've ever been in my life.
To say that "I hate food" is a misnomer. I love food, and, there my friend, lies the monumentous problem. I recently read an article about a lady who was a food addict. She learned that flour and sugar were here triggers, and that for the last 15 years she has consumed none of either product. So, I started to think about what my triggers were. Was it sweets? Was it breads or donuts? It turns out it's EVERYTHING. I took a long time to think about this, and it just didn't matter what it was. It could be bacon, turkey, eggs, candy bread or fruit. It just didn't matter. It is whatever is most easily accessible.
Now to me, that reminds me of an alcoholic or a drug addict. Doesn't it to you too? So, then, what's worse? Someone who consumes a six-pack of beer or fifth of vodka; a couple of joints or lines of coke or a handful of pills; or consumes enough food in one day to equal the fat and calorie content for 2 days in one.
I don't think that God would really say there was much difference. It's all sin. I'm a Christian and to look at myself and see such blatant sin in my life not only is breaking my heart, but I know it breaks the heart of the One who created me.
The problem is, that while society looks negatively at the problem of obesity in our world, which they should, it seems to also be much more "acceptable" than addictions of substance.
My ex-husband was an alcoholic. He hid it from me for a long time, so it took me a while before I recognized it. This is how I found out: I had been in the hospital for an extensive time. When I came home I opened the refrigerator to see what kind of a grocery list to make. I was abhored to find a completely stocked refridgerator of beer. All kinds of beer. Bud light and not light; Corona and a bag of limes; Coors light and not light. So, I immediately got busy emptying all the beer down the kitchen drain and thinking to myself how awful this was. Later when putting away laundry I found my ex's old buddies Jim and Jack hiding in his closet underneath of his work shirts and pants. Wow, now he's hiding the liquor too. This is awful.
Cut to me....all of the hidden food behind other foods in the refridgerator; my own "secret stash" of chips or fritos or tastykakes or cookies hidden in, under and around things all over the house.
I now am experiencing the same disgusting feeling I felt when I saw or the beer in the fridge and the liquor in the closet. Only now it's me and it's food.
This has got to stop. I'm working so hard to understand the "why's" of all of this.
I took a big step Sunday. I put a prayer request in the offering plate saying, "Please pray for me. I have a food addiction and it's killing me." I even put my name and phone number on it. Then, later that day, I came clean with my best friend Sherry. She's been there with me through so many of my trials and tribulations, so I guess you could say she's my "sponsor." I've talked with my sister about this as well. She knows what addiction is like; she quit smoking all by herself. If she can do that, I can do this.
Sherry says sin is sin and we all have our own to deal with. She's right. This is a spiritual problem, but it's also a problem very deeply rooted in my 47 years of living. Now it's time to get the root out. I wish it were as easy as getting a bottle of Weed B Gone and just spraying it on myself. I think this is going to require a little more work than that!
So, more of my secrets are coming out everyday. Please continue to pray for me, and let me know if you have any comments or suggestions.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
The First Step is the Hardest
My name is Donna, and I'm a food addict. There. I said it.
A few weeks ago in church, after the message, the Pastor said he felt like there were people in the congregation who were struggling with addiction. It may be alcohol, it may be drugs, or it may be food. I couldn't tell you what the message was about, I only remember those last parting words. "God wants to help you with it."
Addiction to food? Me? It couldn't be.....could it? Yes, it could and it is.
I think that I was born a food addict. My Mom talks about when I was a baby I used to be done with my night time bottle by the time she got to the bottom of the steps. I'd throw the bottle out of my crib, down the steps, and yell, "more."
When I got older, I can remember scouring the cupboards, the cookie jars the refrigerator for anything I could find. I didn't care what it was, I just needed to eat.
We used to have a pantry that my Dad built under the basement steps to make use of otherwise wasted space. I can remember sitting in that pantry, door shut, eating a bag of dry seasoned croutons that my Mom used to make Thanksgiving stuffing. What 7 year old would do that? Me. It's not that I particularly liked them, but they were there.
When my grandmother came to live with us, so did her big freezer. I would eat the frozen Ellio's Pizzas right out of the freezer. Looking back I find it appalling, but at the time, as I recall, it was a real high.
As a teenager, on the weekends I would babysit. The first thing I would try to think of when pondering how to spend my meager earnings, was did I want to buy something to eat at the mall, or did I want to get something to eat from the sub shop.
It seems like my whole life has been based around what to eat. Even now, before we're finished eating dinner, I'm wondering what we'll have for dinner the next night. It's never ending.
Well, now that I do recognize that this isn't just an I can't stick to a diet problem, but a far greater disease, I know I need to begin to dig deep inside myself and try to figure out where this comes from and what steps I need to take to remedy it. And, most importantly, to let God help me with it.
Since I'm a Diabetic, I battle a double-edged disease. Both of them are, literally, killing me.
Whew. Admission is the most humiliating part. Now that I've confessed my secret to you, I invite you to follow along on my path to recovery. If you have suggestions on how to help me, I welcome them; if you are an addict yourself, well, let's do this journey together; and, if you want to pray for me, I covet them.
God bless you, and thanks for taking the time to read my story.....the first little bit of it.
A few weeks ago in church, after the message, the Pastor said he felt like there were people in the congregation who were struggling with addiction. It may be alcohol, it may be drugs, or it may be food. I couldn't tell you what the message was about, I only remember those last parting words. "God wants to help you with it."
Addiction to food? Me? It couldn't be.....could it? Yes, it could and it is.
I think that I was born a food addict. My Mom talks about when I was a baby I used to be done with my night time bottle by the time she got to the bottom of the steps. I'd throw the bottle out of my crib, down the steps, and yell, "more."
When I got older, I can remember scouring the cupboards, the cookie jars the refrigerator for anything I could find. I didn't care what it was, I just needed to eat.
We used to have a pantry that my Dad built under the basement steps to make use of otherwise wasted space. I can remember sitting in that pantry, door shut, eating a bag of dry seasoned croutons that my Mom used to make Thanksgiving stuffing. What 7 year old would do that? Me. It's not that I particularly liked them, but they were there.
When my grandmother came to live with us, so did her big freezer. I would eat the frozen Ellio's Pizzas right out of the freezer. Looking back I find it appalling, but at the time, as I recall, it was a real high.
As a teenager, on the weekends I would babysit. The first thing I would try to think of when pondering how to spend my meager earnings, was did I want to buy something to eat at the mall, or did I want to get something to eat from the sub shop.
It seems like my whole life has been based around what to eat. Even now, before we're finished eating dinner, I'm wondering what we'll have for dinner the next night. It's never ending.
Well, now that I do recognize that this isn't just an I can't stick to a diet problem, but a far greater disease, I know I need to begin to dig deep inside myself and try to figure out where this comes from and what steps I need to take to remedy it. And, most importantly, to let God help me with it.
Since I'm a Diabetic, I battle a double-edged disease. Both of them are, literally, killing me.
Whew. Admission is the most humiliating part. Now that I've confessed my secret to you, I invite you to follow along on my path to recovery. If you have suggestions on how to help me, I welcome them; if you are an addict yourself, well, let's do this journey together; and, if you want to pray for me, I covet them.
God bless you, and thanks for taking the time to read my story.....the first little bit of it.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)