Category Archives: Spirituality

4 Weeks Recovery

Life is getting better. I have so much more energy. I phased out my afternoon naps that I took almost every day earlier this summer. I am getting exercise and spending more time outside. I adhere to my food plan daily. I report my food to someone every morning. I am speaking with other women who share the same problems with food. I am trying to help other people who suffer from alcoholism and compulsive eating. I notice physical changes in myself besides weight loss. I hunch my shoulders and hide my eyes from people less. I walk straighter and taller and feel my confidence returning.

This Friday I go back to work after having the summer off. I work at a local school, and I am looking forward to going back. I do miss the structure of my days when I am working. I feel confident that I can incorporate my food plan in to my work day without a problem. It will just take good planning and willingness. I really enjoy my work, and I am so glad that I moved from New Jersey to Colorado last year to take this job.

Two years ago almost to the day I had a total breakdown spurred by a PTSD flash back. I lost my ability to work. I couldn’t read temporarily. I felt like someone reached into my brain and stirred its contents, and I had to spend almost a year getting everything back into place. I lost my job of ten years after I was not able to return to work after 3 months of FMLA leave. I was a walking zombie mired in depression. I did not leave the house except to go to therapy. I was incapable of any social interaction. My parents were my heroes. I moved into their house. They helped me clean out my condo and put it on the market. My mother fought tirelessly with insurance companies and to get me on disability. I was incapable of doing any of it. If I did not have my parents, I could easily have wound up homeless and without medical care.

Things did not turn around for me until the following spring. My doctors made an adjustment to my medication that made a massive difference in my ability to cope with daily life. Within days I came out of my fog and back into reality. I started socializing again. I visited a few supportive old friends. I planned a trip to spend 3 weeks with my brother and his family in Colorado. Those three weeks I spent in Colorado revitalized me. The weather and scenery were beautiful. I loved spending time with my niece and nephew. I thought about moving to Steamboat Springs for years, but it had never seemed like the right time with my job. Now I had nothing to hold me back. My job was gone, and my house was sold. It was time to make the change.

I went back to New Jersey, and told my parents of my decision, which they supported. I started looking for jobs online immediately. I was worried about my marketability for employment with a one year gap on my resume, but it turned out not to be an issue. I had a phone interview for my job at the school, and I was hired over the phone to start in early October. My brother and sister-in-law invited me to stay with them for a few months. Once my parents realized I was serious and had a solid plan, they also decided it was time to move to Steamboat. I moved out in September, and they followed in December once they sold their home. My whole immediate family now lives in Steamboat. We all enjoy the natural beauty, lovely weather, slower pace, and quality of life we found here.

My recovery from compulsive overeating is really the last of my battles for now. I have not touched alcohol or drugs in 12 years, I am getting successful medical attention for my mental illness, and now I am taking care of my problems with food. Something new may always pop up, but for now, I am doing everything I can to have a healthy and successful life.

2 Weeks Back

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I now have two weeks of abstinence for the first time in years. I am already feeling much better. My feeling of well-being can be attributed to both a healthy diet and exercise. I follow my food plan precisely. I attempt some form of exercise every day. The last few days I walked on the track at the local high school. The first two days I was able to walk one mile. The pain in my right leg was too much to go further. The third day I pushed myself to go one more lap. I stopped several times to stretch in order to make it, but I made it. I just walk through the pain as best as I can. The last time I was abstinent I did not do moderate exercise as recommended, and I am determined not to make the same mistake again.

The rehab I went to had an acronym for the four points of recovery they wanted us to follow: SERF. Spirituality, Exercise, Rest, and Food Plan. This time around I am focusing on all four points. I do a period of prayer and meditation every morning, and I try to practice spiritual principles throughout the day, and help people when I can. I exercise moderately. I sleep 8-10 hours a night. I follow my food plan from my nutritionist daily, and I also report my food daily to someone else in recovery. All of this runs contrary to what I would do when left to my own devices. I need to be willing and open to suggestions from people who recovered from compulsive overeating.

The Sugar Crash

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The last time I posted on this blog, I was attempting to get back on track with my recovery after I relapsed back into binge eating. I somehow avoided going back to sugar and flour, so I hoped that abstaining from binge eating would not be too difficult. That period of recovery lasted a few days, maybe a week. I returned to binge eating quickly. I hoped, rather than believed, that I could still avoid eating sugar and flour. I made it around 5 more months binge eating only “abstinent” foods. In truth I was just one resentment away from the right excuse to start again.

I am an intelligent woman. Logically I know that eating bread “at” someone is not going to help my hurt feelings. My heart was broken, and I thought I just deserved some bread. I ate bread 3 times that day, and swore I would stop the next day. Addiction will wipe out all reason and logic. Over the next two months, I rationalized that I would stop soon, and I would at least abstain from going back to refined sugar. That ended the day I picked up a pint of ice cream at a Walgreens while picking up cold medication. My rationalization this time was that it was okay to eat ice cream because I was sick.

It is now another month and a half later, and my weight has ballooned once again. My headaches and back pain returned. I wake up with hangovers that demand sugar as a remedy. I find myself sneaking spoonfuls of sugar into coffee while no one is looking. I binge eat in my car to avoid eating with other people. When I do eat with other people, I attempt to eat a sane meal, and then binge as soon as I am alone. It wreaks havoc on me emotionally, physically, and spirituality. It affects my performance at my job. I am tired of the secrecy, the pain, and all of the damage that comes along with this addiction.

It is now 1:37 PM. I have not had any sugar or flour today. This is the longest I have gone without either since May. I am not back to weighing and measuring or the specifics of my food plan yet, but I know that is what I need. I just have to start somewhere.

Bloggers Block

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I have not posted in the last few months, but not because I have not had anything to say. There is a lot going on in my life of real significance, but I have not felt that I could openly share about what is happening because of how it involves other people in my life. I am trying to be completely honest and forthright on this blog, but I am trying to leave the privacy of others intact.

First, my mother had some issues with her health, but she is now doing much better. She does not like to discuss any of it publicly, so I will just leave it at that. She is entitled to determine how much of her life she wants to share.

I also had some serious issues at work. I came very close to losing my job a few months ago, and this took quite a toll on me. I have co-workers who read my blog, so I’ve been avoiding discussing anything related to my job here.

I have also had some relationship issues, and I kept that private in order to protect the privacy of the guy I was seeing. We did split up, and it was messy for a while. He is a good person though, and we are making progress at keeping our friendship alive.

Between my mom, my job, and the end of my relationship, its been tough. The fog of depression and stress was rough for a while, but I feel like I am coming through to the other side. I am working on how to write about what I’ve been going through while protecting the privacy of others, and it just isn’t easy. I guess what I can address is how I cope.

When the going gets tough, what I need most is to have a solid routine in place. I think I made it through the last few months sober and with my abstinence intact by having a strong routine. One important lesson that I learned in rehab is that there are things that I must do no matter how I feel. It was important for me to apply this lesson to keep my routine going, even though I often did not have the motivation. The director of the rehab broke things down into a simple acronym that I often refer to: SERF

Spirituality
Exercise
Rest
Food Plan

If I keep all of these in check, I am able to get through anything. There was one Saturday that I was feeling especially down and depressed. I woke up in tears, and I was stressed out upon awakening. That is a really bad sign for me. I knew that I had to make some special efforts to keep the situation from spiraling out of control. I got up even though I wanted to stay in bed. I cleaned my house. I went for a hike with my dog. I smiled and said hello to people even though I would have preferred to avoid eye contact. I did my errands that needed to be done. I stuck to my food plan. I refused to feed my depression by staying in bed and sleeping. I refused to overeat in attempt to comfort myself. I stick to my routine. I do what needs to be done, regardless of how I feel about it.

Having suffered from depression for most of my life, I also know that it does eventually pass. I constantly remind myself, on good and bad days, that this too shall pass. If I remind myself regularly of this basic fact, it comes to me more easily when I most need to remember it. I also spoke up and let people around me know that I was going through a difficult period, and they also reminded me that it would pass in time. They reminded me of my resilience and strength, and that I did not have to suffer alone.

Estimable Acts

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Early sobriety is tough. I did not expect that when I stopped drinking I would suddenly start to feel life with a new intensity. I thought quitting drinking just meant that I would be more bored than usual and that I might need a new hobby. Once I realized that I really wanted permanent sobriety, I knew that I was going to have to find some new ways to cope with everything I was feeling. I committed to going through the 12 steps, and I allowed myself to be guided by others with more experience in sobriety. My mind was clear enough for me to realize that I had nothing to lose.

I stopped drinking when I was 28. I was single, I worked part-time, and I was back living with my parents. When the reality of my situation really hit me, my self-esteem was really low. I felt a new level of inferiority that I had not experienced before. I felt like a failure. I was scared of the world, and scared of growing up. I feared that I would never be independent. Sobriety did not feel like a gift. It was more like losing what was most important to me.

It took every bit of faith and hope I had to go forward with the 12 steps. As I went through the steps, I had to face some tough realities about who I was and what drove my decision making-mainly fear. I began to realize that my problems were of my own making. These realizations coupled with my already low level of self-esteem were incredibly uncomfortable. Being uncomfortable made me want to change, but I had no idea how to change. How could I start feeling better about myself?

One day I heard the answer I was looking for at a 12 step meeting. It may have been said a thousand times before and a thousand times since, but it was a novel idea when I heard it.
The only way to build self-esteem is to do estimable acts. That idea made sense to me. If it needed to be built, it would require constructive action on my part. But what exactly was an estimable act?

It seemed complicated, but it was actually simple. I needed to start doing things for other people. I started small. I offered people rides to and from meetings. I became more helpful around the house. I made an effort to talk to other newcomers even though I was still painfully shy. I had to start somewhere. Even these small acts helped. The busier I was, the less time I spent thinking about myself and my own misery.

As time passed, I did more. I volunteered to drive some women from a half way house to meetings on a weekly basis. I began monthly commitments to bring meetings at a rehab and a detox facility. If there was an opportunity to help, I jumped on it. I started to meet other people who were equally devoted to volunteering their time and effort. I was always under the impression that all helpful people were just naturally inclined to be helpful. Once I began talking to these people I realized that they were more like me than I thought. We were all just doing what we needed to do for our sobriety and to create some change in our lives.

After a year of sobriety, I began to build a healthy level of confidence. I did have to watch to make sure that my motives were right when I volunteered my time. Was it an opportunity to be helpful or an opportunity for people to praise me and think I was wonderful. I fell short on that more than once. The ultimate result was that when I chose to do something that just fed my ego, the end result was that I felt worse instead of better. Helping people is great, but my motives have to be right. The key is to be helpful without having expectations about what you will receive in return. Going through the rest of the 12 steps helped me to be more mindful of my motives.

Within a year and a half I moved out of my parents house, and I got a full time job. It was terrifying and fulfilling all at once. It was my first time living on my own and totally supporting myself. I was lonely and scared one minute, then blissfully marveling at my new independence the next. It took me a while to even out emotionally once again, but I just kept putting one foot in front of the other. I showed up for work. I showed up for my volunteer commitments. I showed up for my family. I paid my bills. It was long way for me to come in a year and a half. The change in my self-esteem was not just due to my ability to take care of myself independently. Something else shifted during that time, and it was a more subtle change. I stopped measuring myself by imaginary standards and appearances. I became grateful with what I had instead of envious of what I lacked.

Creativity and Recovery

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Back when I was drinking I used to write a lot of poetry- mostly bad poetry on paper bar place mats that was illegible the following day. I don’t think I could even bear to look at any of it today. I know it was full of self-pity and resentment. I would go to bars by myself, sit and drink scotch, and write. It was a pathetic scene. Maybe the poetry provided some form of release, but it was really not a constructive form of creativity.

Once I got sober my head was a mess. I could barely think straight. When was drinking I could allow myself to wallow in self-pity and reminisce about lost love and other resentments, but I couldn’t stand to once I got sober. I no longer had alcohol to aid me in dulling the feeling. I had to turn my energy elsewhere. I decided to try painting.

I was working part-time in early recovery, so I had a lot of time on my hands. I stocked up on art supplies, and I began to paint. My painting may even be worse than my poetry, but this time it was a constructive form of creativity. At first I painted flowers, and I just enjoyed playing with the colors and texture of the paint. It was a simple pleasure. As I grew stronger in sobriety, I began to paint more personally. I started going after my deeper demons, and I painted some painful scenes from my childhood and teen years.

Next I started doing some mixed media scrapbooks. I made one for high school and one for college. These were filled with photographs, letters, cards, and other memorabilia from those periods of my life. Most of the pages were also hand painted and decorated with other mixed media materials. I went through my life year by year and reconstructed my memories page by page. It helped me to remember some positive memories. As I read the cards and letters from my old friends, I began to see the love they had for me. There were poems, get well cards, love letters, and more. As I decorated each page around these items, each brushstroke contained a bit of my love for the person who had sent it to me.

These days I move in and out of creative periods, and I am always looking for a new medium. I happen to work for a company in the creative industry. We are allowed to decorate as we please, and my cubicle is filled with my own DIY decor and artwork. I also bought my condo last year, and I my creative efforts there are also of the DIY variety. This blog is also a creative effort. It is not creative writing, as in producing fiction, but writing for the purpose of self-expression and having a productive outlet for my soul.

My Struggles Now

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After reviewing my posts and some of the comments I received, I realize that there is one thing that I should clarify. Life is good, and I am content most of the time. That does not mean that I do not still have struggles. When I decided to write this blog it was to satisfy two goals. First, it is a productive emotional outlet. Once my head cleared, I had so much to say about my experience. Secondly, I realized that my experience could potentially help someone else. If my motives for posting change, I may need to reevaluate the need to have a blog on this topic. I must be careful to not make this an ego feeding, pride serving enterprise. I continually need to check my motives for posting everything I write. It is a simple test that can be answered by one question: is it selfish or not?

I am fine with recounting my past struggles and the solutions I have found for them. It is the truth of my past experience. Now I also need to be honest about the truth of my current experience. I am not without worries, insecurities and other forms of fear. When I realize they are there, I do my best to take actions towards changing them. Some of them are more deep seeded than others.

Commitment. I’ve lived in my condo for two years before I put a single nail in the wall. 6 months later, I still cannot decide what to hang on the few nails I put in. This does not just apply to home decor. I struggle with commitment in most areas of my life. Fear of commitment is everywhere, from relationships, to important life decisions. I did finally commit to buying this condo after renting it for a year and a half. I would like to say that I made a practical adult decision by buying it, but it was really a struggle between fear of commitment and fear of financial insecurity. Do I give up the ability to run away at a moments notice in exchange for not having to pay a 30 year mortgage into my 70s? Now add in the fear of commitment that will likely lead me to being a single woman in my 70’s and that I will always be paying my mortgage on my own. The conclusion is, holy sh*t I better buy now, or I will be working forever. So I bought my place. Now I like to stare at the amortization calculator to see how much additional principal I can pay each month to shorten this 30 year commitment.

Relationships. Family. Friends. Romantic. Not good at commitment with any of these. Here is where some of these are at today.

Family. My parents and I have come a long way. I was just internally patting myself on the back about this one, and then I remembered I was not sharing the fact that I started this blog with them, or my brother because it is too personal. That is telling. I also adore my niece and nephew, but I still find myself reluctant and afraid to reach out to them and be really involved in their lives. This is high on my list of priorities for this year.

Friends. I may not have a single friend that I have served adequately. People I love dearly, and that I carry with me all the time, are still neglected and our relationships suffered. This is a tough one for me. Alcoholism and eating disorders really separated me from my friends. I missed engagements, weddings, births of children, birthdays, over and over from one friend to the next. Most of the time I missed those events I was sitting alone in my room, just unable to take a step out the door. This produces an ache inside me that is hard to bear, but that is meaningless if I do not commit to taking action to right those wrongs.

Romantic relationships. Nothing short of a mine field. I rarely date anymore. I am not interested in marriage or children of my own (glaring commitment issue right there), so that suits me just fine. I like being alone, I like having my own space. I draw strength from being a single, successful, independent woman. However- I cannot pretend that my disinterest in romantic relationships isn’t connected to the fact that I become a complete insecure disaster in relationships, and I have done terrible harm to people that I love. Insecurity and jealousy can do horrible damage to something as pure and fragile as love.

Through the inventory and amends process of the 12 steps, I’ve done my best to right the wrongs of my past. As I wrote this post this morning, I realized a few more that should be made, and I will commit to making them. I am willing to approach people I harmed and admit my wrongs to them. The harder part for me is to allow the behavior to change, and avoid making the same mistakes again. I know that I tend to avoid relationships, instead of trying to approach relationships with a new mindset and new behavior.

Physical sobriety is not enough. My body is healing, and the clarity is returning. The wreckage of my past must be cleared, and I need to behave differently today. I must always be open to change. I cannot congratulate myself on a day without hurting people if it is achieved by not leaving the house and interacting with anyone.

My Conception of Spirituality

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I am a spiritual being that does not adhere to any one religion. I read an assortment of texts from several different religions. I take what I need and leave the rest. Here is a quote that sums up my feeling about religion vs. spirituality:

“Religion is for people who’re afraid of going to hell. Spirituality is for those who’ve already been there.” —Vine Deloria, Sioux

I believe in the power of prayer and meditation, but I do not pray to any particular god.

I believe I need to be resolutely open to change in my self and others, and the world around me.

I believe I need to be in sync with and care for my environment from my home, to my office, and out anywhere in the world that I may travel.

I believe I need to care for my body since it is the vessel for my soul.

I believe that fear and resentment are spiritual disease.

I believe that you are entitled to believe what you want, and that you do not need to agree with my views.

My Inspiration, Lisa

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It is still hard to talk about Lisa, but there is so much to say. Worst of all, there is so much I never said to her.

Lisa and I met when were in the same 3rd grade class. We played soccer together on a rec team, and then on a traveling team and our high school team together for 10 years. Our parents were friends. Both of us did not have extended family in or near New Jersey, so we spent our holidays together. I had more Thanksgivings and Christmases with Lisa than with any of my cousins or other family. We took family vacations together. We traveled for soccer tournaments together. We went to the beach, we went skiing, and we went all around the country. Lisa was more than my friend, she was family.

Lisa was funny, beautiful and charismatic. She had great athletic talent, and was a far superior soccer player than I ever was. I loved being her teammate and watching her play. I looked up to Lisa. She was prettier, she was better on the soccer field, and she had an ease around people that I did not have. Being around her built me up. Most of the time I just felt lucky that she wanted to hang out with me.

Some times we were close, and we did everything together. Sometimes we did our own thing with other friends for months at a time. It was never an issue and we never fought about it. By high school, we were both a handful. We were wild troublemakers with great skill at manipulating parents and getting our way. I will spare you the details of our capers. I hate to share the gorier details of our crazy teenage escapades without her consent. The summer I turned sixteen we were inseparable, and we had a blast. We had fun, we were lucky, and we walked away from it relatively unscathed at the time. She did not get mad at me when I put a cigarette burn on the backseat of her new car on her 17th birthday. Or when I broke her driver side window on the same car on an icy nite in a hotel parking lot at 2:00 in the morning 4 years later. When stuff like that happened, Lisa would just laugh. She had the greatest laugh, a loud laugh that she let out with complete abandon. Often.

When college came, we grew apart, and when I did see her, there was a lot of drama happening. Both of us were starting to have the kinds of consequences for our behavior that we did not have in high school. I remember going to pick her up at school in Rhode Island with her mother for Thanksgiving break our freshman year, and realizing that we were growing in different directions. Over the next several years, we spent less time together. One summer night during our college years there was a horrible incident and our friendship never recovered. I know this is vague, but I cannot share detail on what happened since it would really be Lisa’s story to tell. Nothing happened between us personally, but it was just a turning point. I only saw her a few times after that. Once at our high school reunion, once when at her bridal shower, once at her wedding, and maybe once or twice at a bar. It never was the same again.

When Lisa was diagnosed with cancer, I was going through my own struggles with eating disorders. She was in Ohio, I was in New Jersey. We had not talked in several years. She was married with 3 kids, and I was single and living with my parents. I was so emotionally beaten down that I just did not have the strength to reach out to her. I desperately wanted to, but I was so broken, and I was practically a hermit. I had separated from almost all of my friends, and I could not open up to anyone. I was psychologically ill, and Lisa had terminal cancer. I just did not have the strength to bridge the gap between us and lend her any real support.

Lisa started an account on caringbridge.org to document her fight against cancer. I read it religiously, and anxiously awaited every post and update. It was my way to stay a part of what was happening. I was able to post a few words of encouragement, but they were public posts and not a personal note. I only saw her once during the 3 years after her diagnosis, and I almost let the opportunity get away from me. Lisa came to NYC to do the Revlon Walk for women’s cancers, and a whole team of New Jersey friends and family showed up to walk with her and support her. I did not. Later in the day I finally plucked up the courage to stop by the after party at a friends house. I hugged her and said hello, and we chatted briefly. I was uncomfortable being around so many people, and I didn’t stay long. That was the last time I saw or talked to Lisa.

Lisa fought cancer valiantly. She endured over 60 rounds of chemo, and amazed us all with her positive attitude and willingness to fight. In the depths of my darkness, I was in awe of her strength. Caringbridge.org was incredibly helpful to many of us who were geographically or otherwise separated. We were able to follow what was happening with her, and her posts were so infused with her spirit. I know I was not alone in drawing hope from her posts. Many of us were inspired by her fight, and were often convinced she might just be able to beat the unbeatable.

In the midst of my chaos, depression, and issues with food, and faced with my own declining health, I was haunted by a sobering fact. As difficult as the idea of recovery from my eating disorders and depression seemed, they were entirely possible. I had already recovered from alcoholism, and I knew change was possible. Then I thought of Lisa. Lisa was dying. Lisa probably would have given her arms and legs to have the chance to get better that I had. My inability to face up to my problems seemed an insult to her. She fought so hard, and endured much worse than I would have to endure. Every day that I let an opportunity to recover go by, I felt more guilt. During what would be the last few months of Lisa’s life, I began to make changes in my own. I stopped my intake of sugar and flour after a back injury that was compounded by my obesity. I decided to make changes because of the injury, and also because of Lisa.

One day I noticed that Lisa’s posts on caringbridge.org stopped. For the last 6 months of her life, Lisa did not post again. We knew without her telling us that the time had come for her to withdraw to her family and to come to terms with her declining health with her closest loved ones at her side. By then, her mother was also suffering from cancer. Lisa passed away in November, and her mother passed away a month later.

I made it without sugar and flour for around 11 months, but I was not doing anything to weigh or measure my food or to be otherwise nutritionally responsible. It was the best I could do at the time. I relapsed horribly, and suffered worse than I ever had before. I could not even stay away from sugar or flour for a day, and I knew that I would need outside help to ever have any kind of recovery again. Fortunately, I did get help. I went to rehab a year ago today, and I am now celebrating a year of recovery.

I am still here. Lisa is not. She left a husband and children behind. I love to see pictures of her children. I see her blue eyes set in her older daughter’s face, her nose on her son, her mischievous smile on her youngest daughter. Parts of Lisa are living on. I get to carry the fire of her spirit in my heart. Lisa, I hope some way you can see me now and can hear the words I wanted to speak to you and never could.

Why I Named My Blog Authentic and Abstinent

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My employer recently sent me to a creative blogger conference. I came away with a ton of ideas related to my job, but I also came away with the idea firmly planted in my mind that it was time for me to start a personal blog. I heard a few recurring messages from several speakers over the course of the conference. The main message I heard was that you need to blog about what you are passionate about. I have plenty of interests in many areas, but all of my interests will quickly disappear if I am not actively committed to my recovery. My personal recovery is dependent upon abstinence from alcohol, sugar, and flour. If I ingest any of these, I am bound to fall back into my addictions, and all other interests will soon be replaced by those addictions. Abstinence must be at the center of my life. When I am committed to abstinence and my recovery, the whole world is open to me.

The other message that I heard at the conference was the importance of being authentic. I need to be true to myself, to my beliefs and to my experience. When I am sharing my experience honestly, and I maintain a commitment to helping others, I hope that you will feel that my message is authentic. When I started posting about my recovery on Facebook over the last year, I received several messages back thanking me for my honesty and authenticity. That feedback drove me to keep sharing and opening up about my experience. I abandoned the idea that my shortcomings and struggles should not be shared, and that I needed to maintain a facade that all was well. I only can connect with people on a deeper level when I share my truth. I also accept that my recovery comes with an obligation to help others who suffer from alcoholism and eating disorders, and I intend for this blog to be a place where I can share my most valuable assets: my experience, strength and hope. I hope that will come through to you as you read my blog.