Food is not the Problem: Deal with what is!
A groundbreaking book! A solid road map to recovery from the use of food as a coping strategy. (Learn more)
Interactive On-line Program Join Now!
Experience lasting change in your relationship with food, with your body and with the key people in your life, today, guaranteed! Join today.
Through Thick and Thin
How to Keep Committing to
Recovery
By
Alison M.
Sometimes, I just
don't want to do it anymore. Being aware of my imperfections, feeling
painful feelings, doing what's "right", growing up. Recovery is hard
work, and sometimes I wish I had never started.
When I was still
acting out my food obsession, and dieting and bingeing consumed my life,
I only wanted to do the things that came easy. I never tried things
I was sure I would fail at, and as my obsession deepened, that was just
about everything. As a result, I never took piano lessons, or tried
swimming lessons, I refused to audition for plays, avoided submitting
stories to publications, and neglected to reach out to other people.
If, as I did
on rare occasions, try something new, I would get discouraged if I wasn't
an expert after my first try and would give up. If I had no choice,
the only way I could get through it was by eating.
I couldn't stand
those uncomfortable feelings of weakness, uncertainty, and vulnerability.
More than anything, it made me angry to think there was one more thing
I wasn't good at because my entire sense of self was grounded in being
the best.
It's a miracle
that I ever found my way to recovery because it is a process of change,
growth, and learning that can be very uncomfortable. It is a new way
of living that demands I start doing everything I ever avoided. With
its setbacks, slow progress, and ongoing change, recovery feels overwhelming
and exhausting sometimes. Every now and then, I feel like I am getting
nowhere, wasting my time, energy and money, and I just want to give
up. It's during those times that I can learn and grow the most, if I
commit to the process and overcome my negative thinking. But how do
I commit when it's the last thing I want to do?
Meditation is
an essential tool for helping me to stay committed during those tough
times. My experience has taught me that when I commit to the breath
and to letting go, things change and usually improve. Sometimes I just
need a good cry, other times, my negativity is lifted altogether. Then
I am reminded that I have no choice but to keep committing. Once I put
the food obsession down, I ran out of ideas for avoiding life. I needed
something to replace the food, and recovery did just that. So when I
am disturbed, impatient, afraid, or angry, I no longer have the option
of turning to the food. I only have what has kept me in recovery for
the past two years: facing myself, learning how to accept life as it
is, and letting go.
When I get quiet
and focus on my breath, especially in the morning, and let my thoughts
run through my head without trying to control them, I find that I can
get in touch with the truth: I want to keep recovering no matter what.
It is in those quiet moments that I remember how horrible it was to
be in the food obsession, and how much I have grown and changed for
the best since starting on my journey. If I am able to connect with
these truths early each day, I find that my day is more positive, centered
and enjoyable. On the days that I don't, the negative thoughts can be
unbearable, and, eventually, I have to take some time to reconnect to
what I really want in life: happiness, gratitude and peace of mind.
As I get quiet
with my unwillingness to commit, I see that it is caused by my attempts
to make recovery into something it isn't. I want results NOW and I want
them with the least amount of hassle as possible. My frustrations and
negativity are usually the result of my wanting to be somewhere or get
something when it isn't time. Unfortunately, recovery isn't like that.
It is an ongoing process that has no goal. By meditating on a daily
basis, I am forced to face all that fear, impatience, and neediness
and to see how it is a part of what made me turn to food in the first
place. Just like my perfectionism kept me from doing things that I love,
I can see how it keeps me from recovering. I see how I get caught up
in a web of judgment and criticism that tangles me up in judgment and
criticism of my judgment of my criticism. My mind races about, trying
to find a way out, the perfect solution, or the perfect avoidance. As
long as I stay present and focus on my centre, I come to a point where
I have no choice but to accept where I am let it all go. Those moments
are the most liberating and beneficial of all because they show me how
I am in my life. In those moments, I see the truth: I can go crazy and
turn to the food, or I can face myself, let of my need to be perfect,
and feel better.
When I see those
moments as teachers, opportunities to move forward, and lessons to be
learned instead of mistakes or wrong attitudes, my need to control my
recovery is lessened, and peace of mind is no longer out of reach. That's
when the miracle of the breath takes over, and the moment passes. My
willingness to stay present with my problems and to keep doing what
I know will keep me healthy returns, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly.
But it does return, and I feel connected, centered, and hopeful again.
Without those moments of fear, despair, and frustration, I would never
appreciate the moments of freedom. I am filled with gratitude and remember
the experience for the next time I find myself tangled up in a web of
impatience and negativity.
Underneath it
all is the knowledge that I want to recover and that I don't ever want
to live the way I did when I was obsessed with food. With that knowledge,
I can reach for the solution and get in touch with the deep love that
tells me I'm worth it; life is worth it, no matter how hard it is.
To Top |
Contact Michelle |
Free Newsletter |
Our Blog
|