I Just Ate Compulsively

I've been feeling blue all day. I found no solace at the OA meeting this morning, which is surprising, as generally there's at least one pearl offered and received. I found no excitement in quilting this afternoon. I went to a Contra dance, after having not danced for 15 years, and sat out half of the numbers. There were about 10 more women there than men, and I was an unknown entity. So I guess it was a given that I would find myself in that awkward wall-flower position, smile pasted on my face, growing more uncomfortable by the minute. When I got home this evening, I realized that my bra straps must have been showing all evening.... that sinking "spinach on the teeth" feeling.... the "I'm no good" feeling... the blues closing in on me.

And so, I got out a bag of dried coconut and started binging. It never even crossed my mind that "the answer is not in the bag of coconut." The driving force, the need to comfort myself, just took over. All that I've learned in OA was invisible until I ate so much coconut that I felt physical discomfort.

Isn't that ironic? I'm seeking comfort, in my old, compulsive way, and end up with greater discomfort. Right now, at this moment, I understand people who purge. I can imagine the relief. I've never purged, and most likely never will because I super hate throwing up.

Last night, when I couldn't sleep, I got out the "Big Book" of Alcoholics Anonymous. Flipping through the stories at the end of the book, #15 caught my eye. It starts out like this:

When I had been in A.A. only a short while, an oldtimer told me something that has affected my life ever since. "A.A. does not teach us how to handle our drinking," he said. "It teaches us how to handle sobriety."

Because I eat compulsively when I experience discomfort (due to fear, boredom, loneliness, whatever), it's important for me to learn other ways to handle discomfort. OA has taught me some tricks. But tonight they were simply not in my consciousness at all. I hope, like the author of #15, that by persevering with OA, and all it offers, I will learn how to handle sobriety (in the sense of not compulsively overeating).

Over the Hump

It came to me in the wee hours of the morning, after writing the previous post about love and divorce, that we are getting unmarried. I like that word, unmarried, much more than divorce. There are no nasty connotations attached to it; plus it's simple, with no strings attached.

The hearing was a bit nerve-racking. I felt like a fish out of water when I walked into court, which was already in session, regarding hearings for other types of cases. I thought maybe I had the wrong date or time. After three or four cases, the judge recessed court, and everyone got up and departed. What the...??????  The clerk was still seated, so I finally mustered the courage to go ask her what was going on. She told me there was a “docket” posted outside the door, and I could go look at it to see if my name was on it. Page 3. There it was. However, I had no idea where they were on the list. Wait. Wait. Wait. Court resumed, more waiting, names called, not mine. At last a name was called, and a young gal walked to the table in front of the judge. I couldn’t hear much of what was said, but it seemed to be a marriage disillusionment. Nice that I got to see the procedure for her and one more after her before my name was called.

Judge looked me in the eyes as I swore to tell the truth and nothing but the truth. He then asked if the marriage was irrevocably over. I remember swallowing hard before answering, “yes.” He then flipped through the documents a few times, asked me a couple of questions about the division of our property, and finally said he saw nothing amiss. Lastly, he looked me in the eyes and asked again, “Is this marriage irrevocably over?” Again I paused and swallowed before replying, “yes.” I wanted to say, yes, your Honor, but we are still good friends. We still love each other. It’s just that we’ve aged differently and need more space, emotionally and physically. These words remained in my head, unspoken.

After a pause, the judge signed the papers, gave them to the clerk, and stated that they could be filed immediately if I so wished. I did and they are. We are  officially unmarried. Glad to have the court thing behind us. That afternoon, I received a bouquet of  red (for love) roses from my wasband. Nice surprise. In the evening we went to dinner to celebrate "new beginnings," the beginning of whatever our relationship will become in the months and years ahead.

This evening, I am officially declaring myself to be over the hump - mostly moved, mostly unpacked, mostly settled in my new home, mostly out of my wasband's home, mostly satisfied with the way things are going, mostly cheerful and optimistic about the future - the downhill side of the hump.

Therefore, I have no further excuse for overeating. I'm done with the book and done with the process of getting unmarried. Time to return to a sensible eating plan. I am powerless to do this on my own. I surrender myself to the balance and harmony of the universe.

The Word "Love"

Tonight I'm thinking a lot about love and what it means to love another person and to be loved by that person. "Love" is a word my husband doesn't seem to trust. I shy away from it too. Except in the first year or so of our 16 years together, we haven't used it much. In recent years, we declared our love for the other a few times on the phone, a few times in writing, especially on cards, but rarely by speaking the words to the other. Why is that?

In the morning at 10:30, I will stand before a judge, who will determine if we will be divorced. If he/she agrees to our plan for dissolution, we will be officially divorced on Monday.

This evening, we went to hear a little presentation in town about wildflowers found in the two National Parks located on our island. After that, we went back to his house and packed a few of the remaining things of mine into my car. Then we watched some TV together, until it was time for me to toddle down the road to my new home. Tomorrow evening, we will have a dress-up dinner at a fancy restaurant to celebrate the "new beginnings," the start of a new pathway for our relationship, which for the last few months seems to be quite a healthy friendship.

So where is love? What is love? Did we love each other? Do we love each other now? I think we did and do... at least, I'm pretty sure about me. It just doesn't quite make sense to me at this moment how we could enjoy being together, care deeply about the welfare of the other, yet not be able to stay married and living together. And what's with not being able to say the words "I love you," to the other person?

There's something odd about the word "love," especially when it comes to our relationship, our history together. I can't speak for him. But for me, love is a can of worms, too big for one little post. Guess for now, I'll sleep on it... maybe write some more about it later.