A Year of Whoring, and What I Have to Show for It

The most significant thing I've learned in the past year about myself and food is that I rarely use it for its intended purpose-- fueling my body.

Hugely, I use it as solace. As a pacifier. As a balm. I mistakenly treat it like it's some sort of narcotic that will actually dull massive amounts of emotional pain. It really doesn't work for any of those purposes, but when I'm hurt, or frustrated, or sad, it's the thing I consistently reach for in attempting to manage those feelings.

Using food this way was a habit taught to me by someone who used to abuse me, starting when I was about three years old. After violating me, this person would then offer me cookies, ice cream, soda, or other treats. It didn't take long for me to begin associating feelings of fear, shame, anger, frustration, betrayal, and insecurity with high-calorie foods.

This past year has given me myriad opportunities to suffer emotionally. My marriage fell apart. I lost a job. My son ran away. The disintigration of my marriage brought with it the loss of people I thought were friends.

Gratefully, I have managed to emerge intact, and even victorious over each of these trials. I have a new job. I have a new, happy life, and new friends.

Despite all those gifts and blessings, I also still weigh 199 pounds. It's a big number. The only thing that makes it easier to type is that when I finally pushed myself to get on the scale back in January, the number was actually 237. Since then, I've lost 38 pounds.

Some of that is because of the extraordinary stress of divorce. Some of it is just the natural consequence of packing boxes, lifting boxes, hauling boxes, loading boxes, unloading boxes, climbing stairs to get more boxes, etc.

Some of it is because I've been learning a lot about the kinds of things that trigger harmful eating behaviors in me.

One of my worst offenses is serial binge eating. These are the highlights of last year's biggest binges:

Last summer, I lost a job. I drove home processing all the things that a normal person might-- How am I going to cover short-term bills? What can I do to stave off long-term problems? Where should I start job hunting? What am I going to do?

The first thing I did upon arriving home was brief my husband of the horrific news and told him what I'd proposed to mitigate the situation. He nodded and left to go hang out with friends. I sat, and over the course of the evening, ate all but about three spoonfuls of a half-gallon of vanilla chip ice cream. And washed it down with a bottle of wine. Not sure how many calories that was, but I'm guessing that it was a lot.

In August, with finances already being tight, I learned that there was a snafu in my daughter's financial aid for college. During the eight-hour day I worked to successfully build 'Plan B' for that situation, I ate a dozen chocolate chip cookies, two egg sandwiches, a milkshake, two diet sodas, half a box of truffles, two hard-boiled eggs, and a quart of chocolate milk.

In September, while camping with my son, I learned that my husband was planning to take a female colleague to dinner and a movie in my absence. At camp, after a good cleansing cry, I ate half a 9x13 pan of rice crispy treats and almost a whole bag of Fritos. Again, I'm guessing that the nutritional content was negligible.

Later that month, I learned that a trip to a ball game that my husband was on was actually co-ed, and that he purposely left me behind, even though his buddy's wives were in attendance. That night, I drank a bottle of wine and after a full supper of bread, potatoes and meat, I also downed an entire package of those cheap oreo-like cookies with the shortbread outsides, instead of chocolately ones like oreos.

In October, my son spent the night in juvenile hall after throwing a temper tantrum and trashing our house. That night, after keeping up appearances and attending a circus show at the civic center, I sat in the dark in my den and ate three costco-sized muffins. The next day, I downed a bacon-gouda breakfast sandwich from Starbucks, had half a sandwich from Quizno's for lunch, and then proceeded to eat over $20 worth of vending machine crap at work.

In November, my son ran away to his dad's house. I was heartbroken beyond belief. The next day, I ate at Jack in the Box three times in a single day.

Part of what being in Colorado has done for me is allowed me to separate my eating from the emotional triggers that cause me to binge. Now, instead of reaching for food, I do anything else that allows me to think about what is causing me stress. I go for a walk. I pray. I listen to music. I meditate on the insignificance of what is stressing me out in light of who I am, how blessed I am, and what I'm called to do in life.

The other very positive thing that I've started doing is simply listening to my body. I no longer eat simply because it's 12 noon. I eat when my body needs more energy. I no longer eat at the movies, just because it's ritual.

Food is fuel, nothing more.