Dealing with "The Voice'

While writing morning pages last Friday, I may have discovered a way to deal with the voice, the one that incessantly says I need to eat more, to eat my trigger foods because I deserve them, just this once, just eat today and be abstinent tomorrow. I'm pretty sure anybody who deals with overeating and overweight, is quite familiar with the voice.

When I've been abstinent and eating on my program for quite a while, when it becomes habit to not eat sweets, not eat between meals, and not overeat meals, then the voice gets pretty quiet. But once I start getting off track, it comes right back, bossier and louder than ever.

Friday night I couldn't sleep, tossing and turning in bed, my mind churning, rubbing me feet together, and grinding my teeth for hours. Finally, I got up, turned on the light and wrote morning pages, trying to calm myself. "Be still," I wrote! About half way through, I wrote this:

I resolve every night not to overeat the next day, and every morning or day, I overeat again... Maybe, instead, I should resolve to eat everything. Tomorrow I will eat chocolate, huge quantities of it... and pizza, and pastries, cake... chocolate cake from Kings Market. I resolve to eat at least 2 of each of my binge foods. I'll go right to town and buy 2 pieces of cake, 2 pastries, 2 cookies, 2 chocolate bars (the gourmet chocolate toffee I noticed today), 2 pieces of chocolate pie, and 2 pints of chocolate ice cream. Then I'll go find a private place to park, and eat all of it sitting in my car. YES!!! Oh yes! I am resolved to do that. Absolutely. Screw everything. I will do it!

Well as you might guess, it made me giggle to write such an absurd vow, and then chortle, and then laugh right out loud. The idea of eating all those things at one time is so ludicrous, my mood suddenly lifted, and the I felt OK for the first time in weeks.

My new idea is this: when the voice starts insisting we have a cookie, just this once, I'll say "Sure, let's go to the store. Only why stop at one? Let's have a couple dozen. And let's have ice cream to go with the cookies. And let's get a whole pie too... Come on... let's go!"

When the voice says, just this once we need to have a piece of toast with butter and jam right after we've eaten dinner, I'll say, "Sure, I'm all for it. Only let's have more than one piece! Let's toast a whole loaf a bread, spread it with a whole cube of butter, and use a whole jar of jam on it! And why stop at that! Let's go to town and get some real treats! We can have 2 of everything we like! Just today... We won't do it after today."

I'll make my reply as ridiculous as possible. Maybe laughter will be an antidote... I'll let you know.

Thanks for the responses to my call for "Help" in my previous post. Your support surrounded me, and helped me get through the past week, not quite squeaky clean, but much better about eating than I had been previously.

Nothing is Constant... Except Change

My previous post was all about moving to the mainland... all set... offer received and accepted... done deal.

Ha... It was not to be. What looked like the absolutely perfect house, one where I almost skipped the step of having an inspection, had a surprising nightmare underneath it... a pond of standing, stagnate water, three inches deep, in the crawl space. A few hours of internet research convinced me to run (not walk) away from this house. The water was indicative of high water table, a problem that can be addressed with bandaids, but not cured... a problem that would eventually result in mold, mildew, rot, insects and rodents.

So the deal was off.

What to do next? Keep looking both on the island and the mainland?

Sometimes, it takes making a decision to realize what I really want. Ever had that happen? Yep, I had been convinced that the mainland move was the right thing. But when the house deal watered out, I felt relief, major relief actually. Examining the feeling made it clear that I really did not want to leave my friends and the security I feel here on the island. Even though there were pros for the mainland, it now seemed I felt more inclined to stay where I am.

Funny how the see-saw of making an offer here and then one on the mainland finally showed me where my heart wants to be.

Meanwhile, the owner of the house I'd offered on previously, contacted my agent saying she'd be willing to knock 10G off the selling price if I wanted to re-offer. She thought that amount would cover the necessary repairs mentioned in the inspection report.

I took another look at the house and decided to go for it. Now, I own it. Done deal. I am staying on the island, moving over the next couple of weeks to a modular home in what seems like an amazingly friendly modular home park, located 3 miles out of town. Here are a couple of pictures.

My new home!

This huge, evergreen tree (don't know specific type yet) is one of my favorite things about this home. I have neighbors only on one side (and she happens to be a quilting friend!). Looking across the street from the dining room and living room, there is a wonderful view over open, pastoral land to salt water and the Olympic Mountains.

 

The large living room, as shown in this picture, was carpeted, and painted a rather dull brown. I've already replaced the carpet with wood flooring, painted the room a very pale rose, and installed ceiling lighting. This room will be my studio... my art, bead, and stitching haven!!!

The former dining room will be my cozy little living room; and what was the breakfast nook will be quite adequate as a dining room. Everything is currently getting a make-over... paint and new flooring! I couldn't live in a home with white carpets throughout... just not me.

The kitchen is roomy and light, thanks to the skylight. I've never had a dishwasher, and have always struggled with cramped, no-counter-space kitchens. This spacious kitchen is a huge change for the better. Whoo-hoo! It too is receiving a flooring make-over.

From kitchen to food... the stress (of all the decisions, the changing plans, and the divorce) is definitely taking a heavy toll on my serenity these days. I am grateful beyond words for OA meetings and friends. Yes, I've probably gained a few pounds... snacks here and there and larger meals... but the good news is, I have not reverted to binging. This is actually better that good news... it's a miracle!

I look forward to being moved and settled... to a bit more serenity... to pursuing my art again. It is in sight!

New Home on the Mainland

Beach - place of harmony and calm where I live now, on the island - I found a heart rock, placed it on a beautiful log, and left it there when I departed - possibly foreshadowing what will follow.

It's settled...

...not without last-minute angst. It was down to the wire, the last 2 hours and I still hadn't heard Y/N on the offer on the mainland house. So I phoned the agent and said I was sending an email to withdraw my offer. I phoned the agent here and told her I would proceed with the island property.

I had five minutes to wrap my head around that decision, enough time to note that I was feeling a little resigned, maybe slightly disappointed, yet I knew it would all work out. I remember thinking my friends (and husband) would be pleased to hear I was staying on the island.

Then the phone rang. The mainland agent called to say she had phone confirmation that the seller accepted my offer. In an instant my future path shifted a one-plus-hour ferry ride to the east. Twenty minutes later, I was signing papers to terminate the offer on the island home.

Confused thoughts followed. I couldn't quite comprehend the shift for a while. So I called my walking partner... When I arrived, she said "You look like you've been on an all-night binge, complete with a bar fight." Yep, that's how I felt.

Two-point-two miles of fast-paced walking later, I'm starting to feel like myself again. I can almost picture moving to the mainland. I feel sad to leave all the people and things I love about the island, yes, true. At the same time, I feel comfortable with the new direction my life started taking a couple of hours ago.

Mainland house

I'm so relieved the two biggest decisions are behind me now... divorce and where to live. Check those puppies off! Now it's all about how to do it as smoothly and quickly as possible. Whew!

It took a total of 4 weeks to investigate possibilities and reach these two decisions. The most amazing fact about the process is that I did not compulsively overeat. I made a few dubious food choices, yes. But in my pre-OA days, I would have been swimming in chocolate and every other goodie I could bake, buy, or steal.

If I've had any clarity in the decision making process, I attribute it to NOT binging or compulsively overeating. Really. When I am in binge mode, my mind only wants one thing - chocolate (or if I'm abstinent on chocolate, then whatever else is next on the trigger food list). With my attention focused on food, how could I possibly find space for clear thinking, or feeling my feelings, or any kind of mindfulness. WOW! That alone is such a wonderful reason to remain abstinent. My gratitude is huge for the OA program, readers of this blog, and OA friends. I owe them for my sanity during this trying time.

Mainland house - back deck and small yard bordered by a protected wetlands creek.

After Christmas

A friend says, all the stuff to eat on Christmas is like bombs going off...

I think of it as a WWII movie scene, where the whole city is being bombed by pies and cookies and cakes and pastries and more than anything else,

big,

huge,

decadent,

dark

chocolates.

I’m down there scrambling to avoid being hit. Whamo! One lands 2 inches from me. And another! And yet another! There’s no shelter; I’m in one H of a mess.

Sometimes

I

succumb. 

Well, today there are fewer bombers overhead. I’m grateful for a little respite in the deluge.These past few weeks, I have not kept to my abstinence program. I have eaten 2 cookies, 1 slice of pumpkin bread, several slices of yulekaga, a bunch of crackers with butter and honey on them. These things are not on my program.

I need to reset the counter. This morning I had a slice of yulekaga. A little of the loaf (given to us by a neighbor) remains. I will probably finish it off later today. I am making a commitment to reset the counter, back to zero, as soon as the yulekaga is gone. Wish I could do it right now and leave the remainder for my husband. Could I do that? Maybe. I feel weak and helpless.... and sad.

It's a sad thing to reset a counter when it has 818 days of abstinence on it. That's 2 1/4 years of not eating one single bite of chocolate, cookies, pie, candy, cake, ice cream, or pastries. Gotta pat myself on the head for that one! Looking at the positive side of the relapse coin, at least I realize I am sliding deeper into relapse mode... eating more, edging up to the abstinence items by eating sweetened yogurt (how is that different than ice cream?) and crackers (the ones that are closest to cookies) and sweet breads (close as I can get to pastries).

There is light and good news in this story. I have not nibbled chocolate in any way. Chocolate, for me, is the most addictive substance of all. So far, I am still abstinent on chocolate. Although many times in the past few weeks, the little devil has sat on my shoulder saying, "It's OK! You've blown your abstinence program, you might as well have me as well. You can go back to abstinence some other day, later, maybe tomorrow. But just for today, you can have me. I come in many new, delightful forms, especially right now. You wouldn't want to miss that, would you?"

So far, the OA group consciousness, correspondence with my OA friends, and the unseen hand of my HP have helped me resist the devil chocolate's insane temptation. For this, my gratitude is huge.

For weeks (months?), I've been avoiding writing here in Words Paint. Why? I think it's because I've been straying more and more from my eating program, not caring how much I ate for each meal, eating/snacking between meals, gaining weight, edging slowly toward the abyss, the dark place where daily binges, self-disgust, self-loathing, and morbid obesity tear me apart. I know, because I've been there... more than once.

In that place, I care for nothing but to consume. In that place the tools of OA, the support of my friends and family, mean nothing to me. And so, as I slip toward that place, I begin to miss meetings, and I stop writing.

Today I am here. Saturday I will go to the meeting. I will reset the counter. On my knees, I thank God that I have not yet tumbled fully into the dark place. I thank God for this day, this Words Paint place of honesty and hope.

Honestly....

Feeling blue today, lonely, sad. Trying to get in touch with these feelings, explore them, accept them... rather than take the easy way out, the coward's fix... food. Some reasons why I might feel blue...

1.

Oh heck, I don't want to dwell on the blue side of life. Or maybe I don't want to know why I'm sad, maybe I'm afraid of knowing. I was sad yesterday too. Rain and chilly weather... I could blame wanting to eat and wanting to take naps on the weather...

Or maybe I could look for some sunshine. This is a diary post, just writing, not thinking much... journaling. Topic at OA meeting today was "being honest with ourselves." Lots of ways we can look at that topic... I suggested it because I don't think I'm being honest with myself about my weight gain in the past year or about what really is at the bottom of the gain. I came away thinking I'd said such dumb things. I drove home thinking that every person in our safe, loving group is at least overweight; some obese. Am I overweight, borderline obese, or obese? I really don't know the guidelines. Hmmm... I'll Google that one.

I just read a bunch of stuff about BMI (body mass index), and some guidelines for gender/age/height weight. According to that (and to what I know about myself, where and how weight is distributed over my body), I figure I am about 22 pounds over weight. I was within 9 pounds of an acceptable number a year ago, and have gained 13 pounds in the year since then, most of it in the last 6 months.

I gained the weight by overeating... not following my food plan. The results? Goodbye size 10 jeans; hello size 12; then hello tight size 12. More importantly, the results are that I'm feeling sad, discouraged, self-deprecating.

I'm admitting to myself and to others the exact nature of my wrongs. I binged on chips, bread, cereal, butter, nuts, and peanut butter, overeating in this manner nearly every day since sometime last fall. I gave myself much larger portions than I needed to satisfy hunger. I regularly cruised the kitchen, thinking something to eat, a treat, would make my life easier or make me feel better. Wallowing in weakness, I gave in to compulsive overeating, knowing I was doing it, doing it anyway. I am telling the truth about myself.

No more lying to myself, saying I'm the same as I was a year ago, saying maybe I just gained a pound or two, saying my eating is only slightly off-program.

This seems to be a good starting point for the rest of my life, eh? One day at a time, even one hour at a time, eating according to my food plan. For today: a sensible, light breakfast (done), a sensible lunch, a sensible dinner, no snacks or between-meal eating. This is a gift to me from me (and my higher power) for today.

Ah-ha Topic >>>>>>> Changed Me

The OA topic was "suffering"... how suffering is a habit, how suffering is something we get really good at doing.

Suddenly the previous week flowed through my mind. Suffering was the flagship of the entire week, especially how I suffered (and was bored, tired, driven to binge on chips, sleepless, etc.) working on photographs for the book. When anybody asked me about the book, all I could say is how hard I work, how many long hours I struggle at the computer working in Photoshop, how little money I'm earning doing this book, how I have to sacrifice things I love to do (like read and write blogs). Poor me, I suffer so greatly.

Sitting in the meeting, my mind reached into a little lie I told my husband in the name of suffering. I told him I'd spent 4 hours working on just 1 picture in Photoshop and that I had 7 more pictures to go. Poor me. Poor me. Here's the truth, as far as I can recall: I had actually finished 3 pictures in 4 hours and played a couple of games of Spider solitaire as well. I only had 4 more pictures to go. Why lie? Upping the pity-pot quotient, I guess. Habit. Suffering. I'm good at it. I've been good at it, practicing it daily, for as long as I can remember.

No more. Baby steps toward choosing not to suffer, choosing to tell the truth, choosing to speak about the positive rather than the negative. Not that things aren't hard sometimes. So this week, when people have asked me about the book, I've told the truth, especially I've named the things that are working well.

Want to know the truth? I'm ahead of schedule for my 2nd submission. Recently I read through everything that's finished and honestly find it to be pretty amazing! It could actually become a timless classic, THE reference and inspiration book about beads and beading! That's my new truth, and I'm stickin' to it!

I'm also watching and listening to everything that comes out of my mouth... I try to notice any little exaggeration and to correct myself right on the spot.... with an apologetic... oops, I kinda overstated that.

This is a good change.... a relief to speak the truth... a relief to hear myself name the good things rather than the difficult things, to let go of suffering. And, I'm not Pollyanna. To put it in sportsman terms, I'll say I caught a fish (suffering), but the size of the fish will be realistic rather than drastically exaggerated. This is a very good change!

* * * * * * * *
And another good change... In my suffering state about the book, I started to eat a lot of chips... Chips every day and lots of them, stuffing in mouthful after mouthful... standing in the kitchen mindlessly munching on chips. Am I exaggerating? Hmmm... Well, maybe a little. But yes, I did eat a lot of chips.

From time to time, a little OA voice would tug on my sleeve and murmur, "you're binging." I ignored it until the day I decided to stop suffering. At that same time, the warning about binging struck me as truth. Abstinence is the OA answer to binging. And abstinent I have been since that day. No more chips. Yay! I'm feeling better about everything. Binging makes me feel crazy. I knew I was close to the brink of no return about eating. I've known it for several months. But now, it's OK again. Whew!

* * * * * * * * * * * *
Gratitude for the day: OA for sure, opportunities, rain, Robert, my family, Liz, Hollie, Lunnette, Christy, Christi, Mom memories.

A Gazillion Lies About Food

Still on the subject of telling lies. Thinking about some of the lies I've told about food... to people I don't know, to store clerks, to close friends, to family, to myself. Just for fun, here are a couple of them...

Lie told to a very close woman friend about 2 years ago

On my way to her house to have a pot-luck lunch with a couple of my quilting friends, I stopped at the grocery store to buy a roasted chicken. Cookies there calling me loudly. Like home-made and only $1.00 for three of the lovelies with macadamia nuts and white chocolate. So I bought a dozen. Got in my car with cookies and chicken, opened cookie bag, chowed one down. Ate another while driving. Was almost to friend's house, but wanted to eat a couple more (this was becoming an uncontrollable binge). Parked my car by the side of the road, ducked my head down, and ate cookies, one after another.

Meanwhile, my friend, driving from a work errand in town, passed my car and recognized it. With 6 remaining cookies, I arrived a few minutes later at her house. "What were you doing parked by the side of the road?" she asked. "Wasn't me." I replied. "Looked like your car," she said. "Nope, guess there are a lot of blue Honda Civics, huh." Flat out lie.

Since starting OA, I told her about that lie and apologized. Feel better about it now.

One of many lies I've told my husband about me and food

Because of having a family that has suffered greatly from alcohol abuse, my husband understands about addiction. When we met 14 years ago, long before OA, I knew I was addicted to chocolate. At times I would go abstinent on chocolate and when I met him was one of those times. We shared that we were both abstinent on alcohol and for me, also chocolate. This was a good bond for us.

A couple years later, I slipped on the chocolate. I thought I could have it just one time, at one special occasion, which of course set me off rolling down the slope of more and more chocolate, more and more binging. But I didn't tell my husband. First lie... lie of omission.

In order to maintain that lie, I had to sneak my chocolate. I had to tell many lies to hide my daily chocolate fixes. One time we were waiting for the ferry and I HAD to have a fix. Standing at the vendor, paying for a bag of M & Ms, my husband walked in, surprising me and catching me in the act. "I'm buying these for you! And they were supposed to be a surprise," I said, covering for my irritated attitude at being caught.

It's a fact...

I have a history of telling a lot of lies concerning my behavior around food, little lies and big whoppers. It makes me feel creepy when I do it; and it makes me feel creepy now to admit it, to write about it, to remember some of them.

I prefer to think of myself as a fundamentally honest person. Honesty is something our parents and teachers encouraged. Honesty is something I admire in others.

So, what's under the lies? What do they have in common? Mostly, I think, I lie to conceal behaviors for which I feel shame. I have a great deal of shame around not being normal about food, about not being able to control what and how much I eat, and around my weight, about my size and shape and at times obesity.

Shame is under the lies. What is under shame? Is it fear? I think so. Fear of not being loveable, fear of death, fear of loneliness, fear of being wrong, fear of ultimate failure as a human being.

Today, I accept the fear. It is real and it is part of me. I accept.

********
Gratitude: shooting stars just starting to bloom, quilting friends, OA

A Year in OA and Hoarding Stuff

Two topics on my mind tonight...

A Year in Overeaters Anonymous

I've been going to OA for a year now, though it seems like lots less than that. I've never been to a meeting that didn't help me, contribute to my newly developing sense of inner harmony and peace of mind, make me feel accepted. Like they say, "Welcome to Overeaters Anonymous; welcome home." Always somebody says something that clarifies an attitude, an action, or a reaction for me. My gratitude for each person in my small group is immense.

My abstinence program regarding certain foods (cake, candy, chocolate, cookies, pie, ice cream and pastries) is solid. 194 days of perfect abstinence on that score! No regrets. No misgivings. Rarely tempted. Not feeling deprived. Happy to not eat any of it, ever! This was a 360 degree change from 60 years of binging on chocolate and the rest of them every chance I could get (not an exaggeration).

My abstinence program regarding my meal plan is not going so well. In fact, not going well at all. In the past few months, I've observed a steady increase in both portion size and snacking. I think the way to get back on track is to work the OA steps. I'm hung up on the 4th step. Maybe I need to return to the first 3 and then approach step 4 in a refreshed state of mind. My spiritual recovery is stagnate. I'll try to write more about that in my next post.

So, looking at the year as a whole, I see a much thinner, much happier me, who is now needing to take new pathways into the program.

Hoarding Stuff

I'm currently reading a very interesting book called, Stuff, Compulsive Hoarding and the Meaning of Things by Randy Frost and Gail Steketee. Bringing a clinical psychology background to their ten-year study of compulsive hoarding, the authors present case histories and their personal impressions about this problem that may affect more people than we realize. While we all keep stuff we don't need or use, the authors say it's only a problem if it makes us miserable, if it "causes substantial distress or interference in every-day living."

The book is a good read, well-written, sensitive, courageous. I saw it in a bookstore and paid full retail because I couldn't wait to get it through Amazon. Why? Because I hoard stuff, stuff I don't need or use or want. Always it bothers me. Always I wish I could give or throw it away. Do I have stacks reaching the ceiling? Only in my closets. Do I have a warehouse full of stuff? No. Have I filed bankruptcy because I overspend my income? No. Has my husband threatened divorce because of my clutter? No; at least not yet.

But (and this is a BIG BUT), what I do have bothers me A LOT). I'm looking for a little help from this book. The authors say that fixing the problem takes "heroic effort." Three ideas regarding a fix are helping me already:

1. I am practicing a total shift in my decision-making process in reaction to the sight of a desired possession. Rather than narrow and focus my attention on the thing, I expand my attention to consider how this object "fits into the fabric" of my life. Expand rather than narrow my attention... that's an important key I think.

2. This one again involves the desire to acquire new stuff. Each time an opportunity to acquire stuff comes along, I ask myself "When will I use it? Do I have anything like it already?" and "Do I have a place to put it?"

3. Already the above have made a difference in my level of new acquisitions. However, disposing of the stuff I already have is an entirely different and much more difficult matter. I find that like more serious hoarders, I attach great value to my stuff. I think of it as potential, exciting and worthwhile, things I can use to make my art, things that I can do or learn from someday. To my eyes, my stuff also has sentimental meaning. Like many hoarders, I seem to derive a sense of self from my stuff, my collections, my supplies, and my piles of inspiration. Gaining a better understanding of this from the book may help me to let some of it go, to find potential and value in myself rather than my stuff.

Each chapter begins with a quote. Here's one I like a lot by William James:

It is clear that between what a man calls me and what he simply calls mine the line is difficult to draw. We feel and act about certain things that are ours very much as we feel and act about ourselves.

* * * * *
Gratitude for today: longer days, my special surrogate-granddaughter, my husband, red roses

Difficult Subject

We grappled with the difficult subject of suicide in our OA meeting today. Members talked about how serious medical issues are caused by or worsened by overeating, about how both mind and body suffer terribly from a long-term pattern of binging and other compulsive eating disorders, about how it's a slow way of killing ourselves, a passive death.

It's got me thinking about my addiction to alcohol, an extremely active addiction in my 20s and 30s, and how I took so many risks with life then, like passing out with my car running, like driving in total black-out condition or driving fast and recklessly in the early stages of getting drunk. Was that behavior a semi-passive way of attempting suicide? Looking back, it certainly seems possible.

Why? Why would I want to kill myself? I don't know. Except for one broken-hearted occasion, I don't recall consciously thinking, "I want to die." It just seemed like fun, each first drink seeming to be all about having fun. But looking back, each next drink seems increasingly to have invited death to my side. It wasn't that I was unaware of that either. The next morning, I'd realize I'd been driving blacked out... again... and understand what a risk I was to myself and to others. It didn't stop me.

What stopped me with alcohol (and more recently with food) was that someone told me he was an alcoholic. He described his "symptoms" and told me about his AA recovery program. That was 30 years ago. It made a strong impression on me as the light bulb went off about my own compulsive use of alcohol. I quit for good within a year, without the benefit of AA. And now I would have to add, without the benefit of the whole spirituality-based recovery process.

A friend recently told me she considered her life to be a precious gift from God. Her way to repay or return this gift to God is to shepherd herself, to take care of and preserve herself as best she can.

Well that's an interesting thought to me, who's never been religious. Can I think of my life as being a gift? Hmmm, certainly it was a gift from my parents. That I lived through a serious childhood disease is a gift of well-practiced medicine. That I survived years of alcohol abuse is a gift of the universe.

I believe that my parents and doctors had intent behind giving me life. But the universe? Was it just chance? Some people would say not chance. Does it matter? I don't know. But I'm still here. Do I have a purpose and a responsibility because I've been given the gift of life many times over, whether by chance or intent (or a combination of both)?

And how does all this relate to food? Overeating and binging is a way of committing slow suicide, no doubt about it. My whole system... my heart, my joints and possibly most insidiously, my mind... suffers a slow death from overeating. Would I knowingly ingest a small amount of arsenic every day, slowly killing myself? No. Nor would I ever drink alcohol again in my life.

So why would I kill myself with food? I don't know the answer about why. But there is much of me that does want to live. The child within wants to live. I must honor and respect the gift of life.
* * * * * * * * *
Today's gratitude: getting a ride to OA (too much ice and snow for me to drive), quality pens and pencils, coffee, finishing my tax preps last night

Epiphany about Step One

OA Step 1:
We admitted we were
powerless over food -
that our lives
had become unmanageable.

I've had a little epiphany about step one in the past couple of days. Here's the thing. Back on April 17 when I went to my first OA meeting and began an abstinence program, I looked at Step 1 and said, "Yep, that's me... I am powerless over food and my life is unmanageable." I had no trouble with it, could not imagine a deeper truth about myself.

Now, however, I find that my mind's been playing a little trick on me. My subconscious mind made a slight alteration in the wording. Here's the version I accepted 7 months ago:

We admitted we were
powerless over binge foods -
that our lives
had become unmanageable.

See the difference?

I turned my binge foods over to a higher power. I gave up trying to control my eating of cookies, cake, ice cream, pastries, pie and candy. As I've written several times, a drastic change occurred, a miracle, an unimaginable blessing. I no longer crave these foods, nor have crazy voices in my head convincing me to have them, nor feel deprived at not having them.

But my other eating? Well, I guess my mind thought I could control that part of it. I could stick to a food plan of three modest meals a day and nothing in between meals. Not so. At first I did fairly well. Lately the kitchen and refrigerator are calling me, a taste of this, a nibble of that, sometimes a handful of nuts or a small slice of bread and butter, my plate piled high with food at mealtimes, eating it all even when I realize I'm full.

Who am I trying to kid? This is not following a food plan; this smacks of compulsive overeating. Oh, not like before.... not the whole box of cookies type of thing. But, when I return several times to the jar of nuts and have just a few more each time? That to my way of thinking is both compulsive and overeating.

back to
the first three steps
1 - admit I am powerless
over food
(all food, binge and otherwise)
yes, true
2 - accept that a higher power
can restore me to sanity
3 - turn my will over
(give the control to)
a higher power
yes, now

I thank my OA group, my sponsor, my walking partner and my husband for various insights that lead me to this improved understanding of my addiction and the process of recovery, especially as held in steps 1-3!

Changing Up the Holidays

Dark Thoughts Pointing at Christmas

I am darkness
looking at Christmas,
pointing dark thoughts
at Christmas,
especially at all the hype,
the production
and the requirements
at this time of year.
I am supposed to be happy,
merry and bright.
But I am not.
I am darkness.

I want to change.
I want to hear
the sweet songs
of the Christmas birds.
Where is my big heart
at Christmas?
Follow the birds.

* -_- * -_- * -_- * -_- * -_- * -_- *

The above beading and my poem from 2007 tell my holiday story for many decades, how upside down it all was and how dark, all the way back to my 30s, possibly even my school years. The child got completely lost in the sauce.

As the poem suggests, every year I attributed holiday blues and bah-humbugism to things outside of my self, blaming the world for my unhappiness because of:

• rampant commercialism
• the way society pushes its traditions on us
• not being good at the whole gift giving thing
• lack of spiritual foundation
• pessimism about world peace
• seasonal affective disorder
• not having any children through whose eyes I might experience the so-called magic of Christmas
• my family being geographically scattered

Today I'm here to acknowledge something different, to state the one, encompassing mother-reason for dark thoughts pointing at the entire holiday season starting with Halloween and marching right through Valentine's Day. To day I'm here to admit the one word that sums it all up:

B I N G E

If I was not in diet mode, then I dreaded the holiday season, knowing I would

• embarrass myself taking cookie after cookie, bar after bar, pie after pie, stuffed mushroom after stuffed mushroom at whatever party, dinner, event, restaurant I was at
• stuff myself repeatedly until I was way beyond uncomfortable
• buy every imaginable treat, bring it into my home and rapidly consume it
• binge on sugar both publicly and privately
• probably gain at least 10 pounds, perhaps 20, in five months of celebrating the holidays
• eat rather than talk at social events
• harbor deep resentment against my sugar-craving body
• experience self-loathing and disgust

If I was in diet mode, then I dreaded the holiday season, knowing I would

• be deprived of sweets, craving them, dwelling on them, feeling angry every time I had to pass on available sweets, feeling equally angry every time I "cheated"
• figure out how to have as much fruit cake, pie, chocolate, Christmas cookies, etc. as possible, how to cut the healthy foods way back so I could binge without gaining weight
• face the fact that I'd probably blow my diet, possibly gain back all the pounds I'd lost
• avoid social situations because of deprivation or the possibility of blowing my diet
• experience deep resentment against my body
• ridicule and blame my body for being fat, for preventing me from eating all the treats I want

All-in-all, five months of being a super unhappy person, driven by addiction to a state of perpetual anger, resentment, angst and despair. No wonder dark thoughts pointed at Christmas!

* -_- * -_- * -_- * -_- * -_- * -_- *

Change! Ah-ha! Ho-ho! Change is here! Super, big-time, hallelujah change! Binging is simply not an option any more. It's not about trying to figure out how to cheat my diet any more; nor is it about flat-out gobble it all down. Been there; done both. I am abstinent now. Period!

Gradually, the call of the cookie, the whisper of the pie, the siren song of candy has faded. I don't dwell on or crave these things any more. I rarely think about them at all. And I don't feel deprived.

What does that mean as I look ahead toward Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's Eve and Valentine's Day? It means I have a clean slate! I can re-invent the holidays and look for things to do that will be meaningful or fun. Unlike all years past, where obsession with food and sweets overshadowed everything else, this year I can focus on what is really important!

I feel giddy with excitement about it!

At the same time, I'm fully aware of how shaky sobriety is, about how it's one day at a time with the help of my higher power and fellowship of others who have known what it's like to binge for five months straight, about how feeling my feelings is still very much a learning process.

Shakiness aside, my optimism and child-like wonder at this time of new-beginnings is like the unfolding petals of the sweetest rose imaginable!

Tools of Recovery

Overeaters Anonymous, a program of recovery based on and very much like Alcoholics Anonymous, is deeper than I thought at first, offering a wide range of possibilities for change and healing, proven to work for many individuals. I stumbled into OA through reading Holy Hunger by Margaret Bullitt-Jonas, an amazingly honest and thorough exploration of her personal experiences with binging, purging, dieting, emotion-evading and all the crazy voices in her head which provided every excuse for continuing to eat compulsively.

Although I've never purged, all the rest, the angst, the yo-yo dieting, the binging and obsession with food, the voices, all as she described in her book were exactly as I've experienced for 60 years of my life. It is as if she wrote my story, not hers.

Her story and her book offer an addict, like me, great hope because she turned to OA, admitting her disease and her powerlessness. In accepting her weakness, accepting the support and fellowship of other OA members, accepting the help of a power greater than herself, she turned herself around and was able to stop eating compulsively, stop binging, stop feeling crazy, reach a desirable, healthy weight for her size and remain at that weight without the relentless struggle of dieting.

The biggest benefit, for me, is to stop feeling crazy. It really makes me feel crazy knowing absolutely, without a doubt, that eating a dozen cookies at a time is not a healthy thing to do, knowing that if I eat one, I'll continue eating them until they're gone, and yet I do it. More than the weight, more than the embarrassment about my food habits, more than high cholesterol and other health problems directly related to my eating, much more than all that, I hated the feeling of being crazy and my inability to resist the slightest temptation.

OA teaches us that this is not a motivation or will-power problem. This is a disease, a progressive disease, one that can not be cured with will-power, a diet, a pill, a stay in the hospital or surgery. Yet, it is not hopeless, as once I had thought.

The way I interpret OA, to arrest the symptoms of the disease, two parallel pathways must be followed. The first is to use the tools of OA to stop compulsive overeating. The other is to work the 12 Steps of OA (and AA) to gain a spiritual foundation for change. Tonight I want to write a little more about the tools and about how I am using them at present.

There are eight tools of recovery, as follows:

1. Food plan. Since I definitely suffer the binge syndrome of overeating, where I've been known to eat a whole box of cookies, a whole bag of candy or a whole pint of ice cream in one sitting, the first part of my food plan is to identify and eliminate these foods from my diet completely.

"Why can't I be like other people? Why can't I eat just two cookies or half a piece of chocolate cake?" I don't know the answer, really. It's part of the disease. The important point is not why, but just that not being able to resist or stop is a fact for me. There is no half-way. I ask myself, "Do I want to be abstinent on my binge foods today, just for today?" So far, the answer is "yes."

Other than two slips, I have not eaten any of my binge foods (candy, cake, cookies, pie, ice cream, pastries) since April 17th, which is 199 days!

Just today, in a coffee shop with a fellow OA member, I briefly noticed a huge display of tasty-looking and delicious-smelling assortment of muffins, rolls, sweet breads, cookies and cakes. In the past, I would have been obsessed with looking at them and selecting which one or ones I would eat or equally obsessed with not being able to eat them because of dieting. Today, I noticed them in passing, got my coffee, and thought no more about them until writing a description of them here.

My point? The obsessive compulsion about sweet things is gone! I attribute this delightful change to a food plan of abstaining from eating my particular binge foods. Another benefit? Well, for once, I don't dread the soon-upon-us holiday season, the time of year previously known for stuffing myself with every imaginable treat and gaining 10 to 20 pounds in three months.

The other part of my food plan is simply to eat three meals per day and nothing between meals. I don't pay much attention to what I eat, although "healthy choices" are ingrained after years of dieting. Not eating between meals is definitely a challenge, one I struggle with, particularly during meal preparation. Sometimes I stay with the plan; sometimes I don't. I do the best I can.

Although, because of a previously negative relationship to the scale, I do not weigh myself, I have lost weight, going from a snug size 18 jeans to a comfortable size 12 in the seven months I've been practicing my OA food plan.

2. Sponsorship. I am fortunate to have two sponsors.

One is my sister-in-law, who is 16 years sober in AA. She is an invaluable mentor, guide and support! Talking on the phone and emailing several times a week, she helps me to accept both my success and my failures, to understand the program, and most of all to have patience with it.

My other sponsor is a long-time member of my OA group. A spiritual guide, she is helping me to understand the 12 step program, to face myself and my disease with honesty and to seek help with this journey. I see her at meetings and meet with her one-on-one as needed. Right now, I'm fairly self-motivated, yet I feel her support and am grateful to know when I need her, she'll be there for me.

3. Meetings. I've written about our meetings fairly often, about how they're invaluable to me in this process of recovery. We are united in our weakness and in our commitment to recovery. We share our process and our inspiration to the benefit of all. What if, for some reason, there were no OA meetings where I live? Having experienced the understanding and fellowship of meetings, I would go instead to AA meetings or I would join an on-line, live-participation OA meeting. I am certain meeting are a significant tool in my recovery.

4. Telephone. This is a tool I haven't used very much as I'm not very fond of talking on the phone. Yet, I understand the importance of resisting isolation in recovery. I guess blogging (writing and reading) and emailing are forms of communication like the telephone, yet not so immediate. I shall consider using the telephone a bit more.

5. Writing. Of course this blog is all about writing my feelings, thoughts, process. I love writing here, reading other recovery blogs and the exchange, inspiration and support that happens between us, almost as if we are all meeting together. It's magic for me!

I must also write privately as I work the 12 steps. Here is another area where I'm dragging my feet at the moment. Time to call my sponsor and get some help.

6. Literature. Over the years, AA and OA have amassed a vast library of literature relevant to recovery. There are stories, history, workbooks and guides. I've read and been inspired by several of these, the most recent being The Big Book itself, the fourth edition of the original Alcohol Anonymous book, written by the founders of the program. Quite an unexpected treat, this book both instructs and inspires me, helping me to better understand the concept of alcoholism or compulsive overeating as a disease. I'm currently reading an OA workbook designed to help participants work through the 12 steps.

7. Anonymity. I respect the concept of anonymity in OA. It gives me power to be honest with myself and others. For this reason, I do not use my name or anybody's real name in this blog.

8. Service. Although I have taken responsibility for the meeting-room key, until today, I had not offered my service to anybody else suffering from overeating, at least not directly. Perhaps indirectly, as a result of reading my blog or talking with me about what it's like to suffer the disease of compulsive overeating, I may have been of some slight service to others. However, today I offered to be a food sponsor (as opposed to step sponsor, which by my own standards, I am not yet qualified to do) to another OA member. I don't know where this will lead or how it will be for her. But, I can say that for me, it feels like a good thing, a pathway that can only lead to greater learning and healing, hopefully for both of us.

So this is a summary of the tools and where I am with them in the OA program at this time. My gratitude for having learned of OA and for all the assistance I've received to date is boundless.

Me and Chocolate

I've known about my addictive relationship to chocolate for a long time. Here's the story of when I realized and admitted it for the first time.

It is spring of 1996. I'm in the habit of getting two chocolate fixes a day. I don't keep it in the house, because actually that's impossible. Whatever I have, I immediately eat. So I go out to get my fixes. I run a bead shop in my studio, open by appointment. Today I have a morning customer and one in the afternoon. Between them, I plan to go buy myself a treat (always it's chocolate, although I use the word treat rather than naming it).

Morning customer comes late and stays late. Afternoon customer comes early. They overlap. No treat. I am fidgeting and irritable. I want Ms. Afternoon to leave. I don't care how many beads she'd like to buy; I want her gone. I'm short with her, nearly rude. Finally she goes.

I race to my car and am driving away mere seconds after she leaves. I drive to the closest grocery store. I rush to the bakery/deli to see what they have. OK... triple-layer, double-chocolate cake! I tell the clerk I need a big piece because two of us are splitting it. She puts it in a to-go box. I grab a fork and a napkin and bee-line to my car. In my car, I slink down and eat the whole piece of cake. Two minutes and it's gone. I've gobbled it.

I realize I didn't taste it after the first bite. I feel remorse. Remorse for being rude to my customers. Remorse for telling a lie to the clerk about splitting the piece of cake. Remorse for hiding in my car. Remorse for continuing to abuse my body.

It dawns on me, sitting dejected in my car, that I am a chocolate addict, exhibiting all of the behaviors of an alcoholic only about chocolate rather than alcohol. In that moment, I realize chocolate had a grip on me that makes me feel crazy and that I can not control my intake. I decide on a course of abstinence.

Well, that lasted for about 3 years. Then I started sneaking chocolate once in a while when I was in town. Once in a while soon became a daily fix. Then twice a day. WAKE UP! OK, back to abstinence for a few more years.

Then I decided I would have chocolate only one time a year... on my birthday. Didn't work... One time became the first of many times and the fixes ruled me once again. Quit again. Fell off the wagon one more time, binged repeatedly, lied, hid the stuff, sneaked around eating it in my car.

Always during periods of chocolate abstinence, I continued to crave it... big time! I thought about it every day. I spent hours in the grocery store looking for chocolate substitutes. I tried every type of lemon dessert there is... cookies, ice cream, cake, pie, cheesecake and tarts. I tried peanut-butter cookies and raspberry bars. I tried butter pecan ice cream and apple fritters. You name it. I tried it. Always I wanted and craved chocolate... tried to find a substitute... something else to give me that same buzz.

I never found it. And I never binged as badly on the substitutes, rarely had to get two fixes a day like with chocolate. But I did binge some. My craving for chocolate was incessant and nagging.

On April 3rd, 2010, I finished reading Holy Hunger by Margaret Bullitt-Jonas and realized fully and without a doubt that I am a compulsive overeater and that I can not control my eating and binging by myself. On April 7th, 2010, I attended my first meeting of Overeaters Anonymous and sensed I had finally found help.

I've been on a sensible food plan and abstinent (with one slip) from all chocolate, cookies, cake, pie, cheesecake, ice cream, candy and pastries ever since then. My body is slowly changing... when I started I wore a snug size 18 jeans. Now I'm wearing size 12. My mind is changing a lot. I don't feel crazy anymore. I'm learning to feel my feelings. I'm starting to work the 12-step program and feeling positive about the progress I'm making.

One of the most interesting things in my OA experience so far is about chocolate. Since being abstinent about chocolate AND other binge foods, I no longer crave chocolate or even think about it much. If very good quality chocolate is right in front of me, I might find myself thinking it smells really good. But then I move away from it both physically and mentally. I'm not looking for a substitute. It's hold on me is finally breaking. One day at a time, I am becoming a sober person!

What's In My Car?

what's in my car?
secrecy
safety
hiding place

safe place to eat
a whole cheesecake
a Dove bar
a box of cookies

nobody will know
if I eat in my car
holding it below the windows
watchful for people I know

mindless binging
eating in my car
sometimes a daily habit
for decades

but only once
in the past 138 days
the fresh bakery bread
two days ago

a friend notices
the red flag
eating in my car
and calls me on it

she suggests
I wonder if car eating
is something you should think
about not doing

she's right
it's on my abstinence list
no more crumbs to clean
before they're noticed

my car and I
will form a new relationship
long solo road-trip ahead
a place to feel my feelings

no more hiding
no more secrecy issues
freedom and sanity
are my rewards

Who Are Our REAL Friends?

Funny thing happened at our County Fair a couple of weeks ago. A friend and I were walking through the main building past the exhibitions of baking and canning where they always put out samples of the baked goods. I'm a sucker for samples... Unless I'm really being conscious, I put out my hand without even thinking.

And that's sort of what happened. I noticed a tray of cookie bits and another tray of small slices from the cakes. Nope, uh-uh... those are binge foods. Oh, but loooookie here... a tray of breads! Several chunks of white bread and here's a very dark-looking bread, maybe pumpernickel or Russian rye? Breads are not on my binge list, so conveniently overlooking my food plan which does not include any eating between meals, my hand went out and snagged that dark bread.

"But wait!" cautioned my friend, who knows about my OA commitments and sometimes reads this blog, "You don't want to eat that!"

Oh yeah? Them there're fightin' words... The fast-acting, non-thinking rebel in me had that bite in my mouth before she finished her thought. Munch, munch.... Uh-oh... this isn't pumpernickel or rye... this is sweet bread, raisin-zucchini maybe. That would be in the pastry department, wouldn't it? Yep, on my binge list. Oh sh**t! Too late to spit it out... down the hatch already.

I didn't say anything about it to my friend; nor did she mention it again. But I thought about it a lot... thought about the rebel in me and about how she gets me in trouble... about how I might want to look at that and do some 4th step work around my rebellious nature.

A week later at our OA meeting, I told this sad tale. When it was his turn to speak, one of the other members talked about his past habits of unconscious eating and rebellious eating. Then he said something very important. He said, referring to my friend, "Those are our REAL friends... the ones who ask us 'Do you really want to eat that?' The kind of friends who say, 'Oh come on, you can have a little taste' or 'just this once won't hurt you' are the ones we don't need around us." Right on, bro!

So, if my REAL friend is reading this post, I thank you kindly for your support and encourage you to nudge me any time you see me faltering. The rebel may win, but your words will stay with me and help me to win the next time.

Sounding the Bread Alarm...

This morning I stopped at our local bakery to deliver a message to a friend who works there... Fresh bread smells from the moment I opened my car door. Rustico, my favorite crusty baguette, was piled high and still warm. Oooo-la-la!

I don't buy much bread any more. It's not on my binge list, but is definitely a trigger for binge thinking and I've been known to lust for bread. Once in a while I buy a loaf, take it home, cut it in roll-sized portions and freeze them individually. Then when we're having a light, salad dinner, I take one from the freezer, thaw it, slice it in half, butter it and broil the slices, toasting them nicely to have with our salads.

In the 136 days since starting OA, I haven't had a problem with bread.... until today. Yep, I bought a loaf of that luscious Rustico, thinking I'd do the usual. But no, that nasty stuff called my name as soon as I got in the car. Just the tip of the baguette, while it's still totally fresh and warm, I thought. Oh, that was good... hmmm, maybe just a bit more... Oh, yum, guess I'll tear off one more chunk....

As I was automatically reaching to tear yet another piece, the voice of my collective OA group penetrated the yeasty aroma saying, "Can you see what you're doing here? Can you see the addict in the car? It's not your meal time. This isn't in your food plan." Yikes! That pulled me up short. Rather than eat more, I folded the bag closed and set my mind to a majorly difficult task. It worked. I got home with no further damage.

But then, at home, the monster suggested I slice the part I had torn with a knife to make the loaf look nice and tidy. How I'd love to say I resisted the monster. Nope... slice & munch. OK, but that's it!

But then, later this evening, the monster got me again. A little hungry. Rain, pouring rain. Walking partner cancelled. Woe is me... I sliced off another piece, put butter and peanut butter on it and ate it right there standing at the kitchen counter. This was a major cheat and it frightens me.

OA collective voices, I need you!

OK, I hear you... I'm going to take a short time-out here and go slice and bag the remainder of the Rustico and put it into the freezer.

Done! (with no nibbles, thanks of OA voices)

Here's what I've decided. Since bread was not on my abstinence list, I will not restart my count. However, as of right now, bread goes on Red Alert status. More than one slice per day will, from now on, be considered a breech of abstinence. And I do NOT want to start my count again. The other members of my OA group do not count their days of abstinence. I think perhaps they are not totally abstinent on any foods. For me, both abstinence and counting are important. I shall continue to do both.

I Could Eat 2 Dozen...

Earlier this afternoon I told my husband
I could eat 2 dozen chocolate chip cookies
He said he'd get me 3 dozen
just in case I ate 2 and wanted more

What's with that, I wonder

Binge foods haven't been calling
not for quite a long time
Things are going pretty well
I got caught up on my art blog today
Check it out if you're interested
here
The weather's OK

Maybe it's about the counseling
Maybe there was an inkling in our session
last evening
that we could fix things up
enough to stay together
Maybe that is frightening to me
Maybe being on my own again
feels desirable
more desirable than being with
a man I care for deeply
but with whom I feel unimportant

Maybe the cookies would help
But probably they would not

What is "Thin?"

Genie, one of my favorite bloggers, recently wrote:

It's the big weight loss conundrum of intelligent women: I know how to lose weight, and I don't want to be overweight, so why can't I apply the knowledge to the desire in order to become thin?

Her words make me think about another conundrum of intelligent women and men: What is thin? What is thin enough? Where does thin begin and fat end?

All through my life of dieting, I've tried to change the wording to escape this question. I say physically fit or in the normal range for my age, height and gender. Yet, while abhorring the word fat, I'm in love the word thin, especially in my thoughts and daydreams. The word taunts me.

If only I were thin.....
When I get thin....
Because I'm not thin....

Thin is elusive. It exists on a sliding scale. When I'm 230, thin looks like 182. When the scale says 185, thin looks like 160. I haven't been there for many years, but I recall about 41 years ago, when thin looked like 125.

These numbers are crazy-making! At this moment I am celebrating my decision to stay off the scale (unless the Dr. orders... and even then I don't need to know). I understand the risks of this decision. But it makes me feel like I've finally donned my big girl panties... I don't need a scale to tell me how much to eat, if I'm bingeing or if I'm following my food plan. It's the first time ever that I've lost weight without tracking it, weighing myself and writing down the numbers. And it feels great!

So, for me right now, the scale is not relevant to thin. Yet, not weighing does not the conundrum solve. Thin haunts and taunts me even without the scale. I'm still plagued by thin thinking. For example, my 50th HS reunion is in September. Since I'm thinking about going to it, thin invades my peace with thoughts like these:

How thin will I be compared to the other women there?
Am I thin enough to risk being seen by classmates?
How much thinner will I be by then?
Will I be thin enough to deserve a new outfit?

It's not my weight (or even my appearance) that needs to change. It's my state of mind, my perception about the importance and relevance of thin, that must change. May recognizing this fact be my first baby step on a new and more comfortable pathway.

A Few More Thoughts on Entitlement & Humility

I'd like to say (and think) that I understand humility, but I have only the faintest glimmer.

I know humility is what makes us listen to and try to understand views that are different than our own. In a world of selfish and self-righteous views that lead to conflict and war, humility makes us listen to each other and hear the needs of the earth. It gives us common ground. As an individual, humility comes from the belief that I stand neither above or below anybody else. Humility protects me from low self-esteem and others from the power of my over-inflated ego.

Yes, to answer Karen's comment on my original Entitlement post, my exploration of humility did originate in an OA meeting. A member was telling a story about her family and the way she grew up feeling entitled to have "treats" for many different situations and occasions. I started thinking about what's under that sense of entitlement, one that I also shared.

Might it be possible that I felt more deserving than others? What if I altered my thinking a bit. What if I tell myself that stuff happens to everyone. We all have disappointments, frustrations, death, illness, celebrations, abusive relationships. We do. All of us. So why am I so special that I deserve to have treats?

What if I put myself on the same level with everyone, not above and not below? Does that mean I don't deserve rewards and celebrations? Does that mean I haven't succeeded? Does it mean I'm just average? Does it mean I have no reason to try to improve, to better myself? This is indeed a concept that needs grappling. I don't know the answers.

But I resonate with Ralph W. Stockman, who said humility is intelligent self respect which keeps us from thinking too highly or too meanly of ourselves. Intelligent self-respect makes good sense to me. With intelligent self-respect, I no longer binge when I feel entitled to a treat.

Little Temptations

Today the deli department of our grocery store offered platters laden with samples of three different kinds of cookies!

Forty-six days ago I would have had one or two samples of each type on my way into the store (rear entrance from the parking lot). Then, I would have done some of my shopping and wandered by the deli again for seconds. If they were especially good cookies, I might have returned again for thirds. After paying for my groceries (at the front of the store), I would have swung past the deli again for a final handful of cookie samples on my way out of Dodge.

Did the deli clerks recognize me each time? Did they make judgments about me? I always wondered about that... But it didn't stop me.

In fact, the beginning of the end of my recent Weight Watchers victory began with eating those tasty little temptations. Late last fall, our newly-remodeled grocery store was being very generous with samples. Every day the bakery and deli featured at three or more sample platters. Nearly every day I'd find some excuse to hit the platters.

I'm just having a few little bites. It won't matter. I'll eat a little less at dinner. I don't know how to count the points, so I'll just ignore them. Chocolate too... there were samples of chocolate decadence cake, chocolate chip cookies, chocolate biscotti...

I'd been chocolate-abstinent for two years, but eating little chocolate samples was all it took to start bingeing on it again. Eating little everything samples was all it took to start buying bakery treats, eating deserts at restaurants and a return to the whole crazy, food-dependent, weight-gaining way of life again.

Today, thank the universe, I walked right by the platters. Yes, I noticed them. Yes, the samples looked as tasty as always. Yes, there was a moment of temptation when the voice in my head said, Shall we? Just one?

Something is much different now. No tricky point or calorie-count manipulations. No arguing with the voice in my head. No exceptions. There is comfort in abstinence. I feel joy and satisfaction knowing that, one day at a time, I do not eat food samples in the grocery store.