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.
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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

Clearing My Husband's Name + About Fear

Yesterday I posted a poem of sorts (here) about wanting to eat 2 dozen chocolate chip cookies... My husband offered to buy 3 dozen in case I wanted more. The next line said: what's with that

I feel the need to clear his name on this one... He was just joking. He knows full well the strength of my abstinence (at least at the moment) and that it was just my way of saying The Monster was in my mind. No way would he knowingly aid and abet said monster by bringing any of my binge foods into the house. The line "what's with that" refers to my mental state... like what is causing The Monster to come forward in such a big way? It does not refer to his joking offer.

I just read the above to him. He said, "Tell 'em you're going to put a fifth of Scotch in my car to get even." (He's a recovering alcoholic.) His humor is sometimes barbed and a problem for me in our marriage, but most of the time it just cracks me up.

It was good to write the poem because I write quickly, improvisationally and more truthfully when I write poetry than when I write prose. I can fill many journal pages with words and more words, and not get close to my inner truth. Whereas, writing terse lines (I guess one could call them poems) is often a gateway to my more intuitive side.

The other way I tap into intuition is by writing off the lines... in a spiral, upside down, in a diagonal wave - anything but straight across the page. When I journal, I like to get out my rather substantial collection of stickers and let Little PB pick a few she really likes (even if it's the only one I have of that type) and put them on the page. If she wants, she can embellish the stickers by doodling around them for a while. Then when I start to write, I just follow around the stickers and her doodles. It's quite obvious, when comparing a journal page like that to one written straight across the page, that the sticker pages are way more insightful, creative, fun, truthful and compelling.

Back to the cookie poem... Writing that I wanted to eat 2 dozen c.c. cookies simply opened a door to feeling my feelings and offered a chance to look at why that might be. I'm still thinking about the answer that appeared in the poem. It surprises me to realize that I have such strong fears around staying married, even though remaining with my husband is my stated goal for counseling.

So today, which was a 15-hour travel day (solo), I had a lot of time to consider the matter. It's complicated... and probably best summarized in a ten-things list... Ten Things Regarding My Fears around Remaining Married

1. It seems to be related to recovery and weight loss. Maybe getting physically smaller is a physical manifestation of the way I feel unimportant (small) in my marriage.
2. Part of me misses the independence I had before we met and married.
3. I don't trust that changes brought about through counseling will be lasting.
4. Under my fear of staying married is a fear of being trapped.
5. Under my fear of being trapped is a fear of becoming a nonentity.
6. Under my fear of becoming a nonentity is my fear of death.
7. Animal fear of being killed and eaten.
8. Internal Critic says I'm being a drama queen here.
9. Shut up, IC!
10. I need to be able to say "no." We both need to be able to ask for what we want and accept "no" as an answer. I have little faith in our ability to change.

Yikes! Should I be writing this kind of thing on a blog? I don't know. He doesn't read it... and even if he did, it would be OK (I think) because my intentions are good/honorable. But is it too personal and private to put on a blog? I guess I'm really just asking myself this question... More to consider... But for now, I'll publish this post as it is.

What to Fix ~ What Not to Fix

Been a troubled week for Peacefulbird...

A friend "closed the door" on me. She's not the female confidant type, but has always been friendly and as warm with me as she seems to get with anybody. Several months ago, we started a little business sewing a line of beaded kitchen angels, tea towels and potholders to sell at our local farmers market. We had a number of fun sewing days and started selling our line in April. She's not much for phone calls, so mostly we made arrangements in person or by email.

All seemed to be going well with both friendship and business relationship until two weeks ago, when she declined to come to my studio of a pre-arranged sew-day and ceased to respond to my emails. I tried the telephone... she didn't return my call. Today was our 4th scheduled farmer's market and I didn't even know if she would be there.

All week this troubled me. I wondered, "Did I do/say something to offend her and if so, what? Is she ill?" I called a mutual quilting friend to ask about that. No, she didn't think so.

So, this morning I went to my OA meeting (prior to the market) full of anxiety. When it was my turn, I spoke of the situation and told how it made me want to eat sweets all week (my old way of dealing with things like this). Then I heard myself saying (from some rarely heard wise-woman place inside), "The child in me has been abandoned again. She feels frightened and anxious and sad and angry and confused and most of all she feels lost. I need to help her."

Thus it's NOT about fixing the friendship... NOT about fixing whatever is amiss between me and my friend. It IS about fixing what is amiss between me and the child within (Little PB). On the way to the market, I reassured her that my husband will not abandon her, that my best friend (L) will not abandon her, that my quilting and beading buddies will not abandon her and most of all, that I will not abandon her. I told her I understand how she feels, especially given her loss of Daddy and Mommy.

I had been concerned about eating pastries at the market, but after talking with Little PB, a weight was lifted and there was no significant challenge to avoid food.

My friend/business partner did show up. We were business-like and cordial, but did not discuss our relationship at all. Without the insight about abandonment, I would have been trying to fix it and pushing her to discuss what went wrong between us. Who knows, I don't close that door... maybe someday we'll fix our friendship.... maybe not. In the meantime, I feel a whole lot better!