Secret Food Addict

   

      Unsupervised in the kitchen has been a battle field for me since elementary school. I remember the first time I was left alone in the house. My grandmother had gone out with a friend and left me, and cake, alone for maybe an hour. I remember sitting and staring at the cake, swearing I could hear it call me name.
In this moment, I used the trick that I would continue to use even until today.  If I just cut off little slivers from the sides no one will notice anything is missing. I am not sure I really mastered this skill as I have been caught MANY time throughout life having eaten more than I should.

     I have been yelled at more times than I care to count for having eaten too much food or food that I wasn't supposed to eat. I have known a few "non-food sharers" who would bring in food to the house that I crave then tell me to not eat it.  When your labeled the fat kid, people think they are doing you a favor by not letting you eat the foods you crave and punishing you if you do. In all reality, it is no different then putting someones drug of choice in front of them and telling them no. A person can only be strong for so long and inevitably the Costco chocolate chip muffins were mine! Bringing in foods that, because I was fat, I was told I could not eat did not do my any favors and instead turned me into a closet eater.

     There was no amount of yelling or fat shaming that could stop me from eating the foods I craved. Sugar is my drug of choice. Cakes, cookies, chocolate, frosting, ice cream, donuts, and everything else in the sweets category is my drug. The constant ridicule for eating sweets only made me eat it in secret. Alone in the house I would eat the foods I was told not too.  The fear of getting caught was not enough to stop me, just like the drug addict is no longer scared when the craving gets too strong. I became numb to the aftermath that my drug induced binge eating would cause.

     I have done things when it comes to food that I am in no way proud of.  I have devoured entire packages of cookies, candy, cakes, and many others food and simply put the empty container in the bottom of the trash can so no one would see the evidence.  I have spooned, cut, and nibbled at foods in hopes that it would not be noticeable that I had eaten any of it.  Before I could drive I would get creative in the kitchen; mixing, stirring, and baking my way to some form of a craving fulfilled item.  Over the years I learned the ingredients for coffee cake are usually always on hand, as well as the ingredients for frosting.

     The inability to resist my cravings would eventually lead to massive amounts of guilt.  I would make my coffee cake, sit on the kitchen floor, and when I could safely eat it without burning my esophagus, I would devour half before I could process what I was doing.  My crumb covered face, like the white powdered nose of a coke head,  would knock me back into reality and drown me in guilt.  In a fit of anger I would dump the remains in the trash and bombard myself with hateful inner monologue. I called myself names that others had called me; I believed I was a fat pig.

   

    Moments after shedding tears over the trash can, I would purge. The two places I have cried the most in my life have been in the kitchen and my bathroom.  I would eventually pick myself up off the bathroom floor, wash my face, tell myself something somewhat comforting, and try to put the event behind me.  The guilt feeling would never leave. I would go about doing something else and just about every time find myself standing over the trash can.  I would mentally argue with myself; how could I seriously be considering eating out of the trash? When my craving would kick in, my standards would drop a great deal when it came to what I was eating. It is shameful to admit that, on more than one occasion, I would pick whatever it was back out of the trash and finish it.  I hated myself for doing it, yet I could not stop myself. I would binge eat until there was nothing left and then purge in hopes of sparing my waist line.

     This was my life for years. When I moved out and was away from parental supervision and judgement, my eating disorder became worse.  I worked at CoCo's Restaurant and Bakery and would take home pies after work and eat the entire pie.  I repeat, I would eat the ENTIRE pie. Why? If there was no evidence then nothing happened. I had learned to be ashamed of my sugar addiction - I was fat because I could not control myself. When I would give into my addiction I had to eat it all and throw the box away, not just in my kitchen trash but all the way to the apartment dumpster. I did not want a reminder of the sinful act that I had participated in or the judgment from someone thinking I should not be eating that kind of food in the first place.

     The freedom to purchase my own food lead to massive weight gain over time and the continuing fight to fit into my pants.  Binging and purging was normal for me up until I was 26. At that point and at 300 pounds, I signed up for Weight Watchers. Weight Watchers taught me what I had always been missing in my diets. Balance. While in the program, never once was I told I could not have a food. Instead, I was taught how I could still eat the foods I loved in moderation.  Over time the guilty feeling that would come with eating sweets went away. As I regained control over my body and mind I was no longer ashamed of being seen eating "junk food". I had grown up believing that in order to be thin I could no longer eat sweats and I would have to eat salads every day for the rest of my life. No thank you. I was willing to sacrifice my health so I could keep eating cake.

     It has been five years since my weight loss and I still struggle with binging and eating trigger foods. I did not "get over it." It's not something that can be cured. Binge eating and trigger food are a reality I have to face everyday when I am alone standing in front of the pantry door. There are foods that are not allowed in the house. For example; fruit snacks - I have eaten too many entire boxex; candy - the entire package will be demolished; Lucky Charms - yes, I admit I have had nights where I pick out all the marshmallows and throw the cereal part away.  My husband and I also have a rule in place that if we are going to indulge in a treat it must be something that will be gone in one night. No entire cakes allowed.  I have also learned that if there is something that I am craving, and craving bad, just eat it! I have found myself eating everything else expect the one thing I want and eventually end up eating it anyway. I have had to learn to accept this about myself and make accommodations because of my sugar addiction.

   Food addiction is difficult to fight. After all,  we have to eat! I do the food shopping for my family. I have the ability to pick out whatever I want. I don't struggle as much as I used too. My health is important to me and I also did not shed 125 pounds just to let Little Debbie help me pack it back on.  Do I slip up? Yes. Those oatmeal cream pies are my crack and sometimes they win. Sometimes. Do I find myself eating out of the trash? No. I have not done that in so long I can not remember the last time I did. Food is not easy to stand up against. It took years for me to better understand and ACCEPT myself for the way I am wired. If a craving hits, I will leave the house, or get online, or tell my husband, or pick up the phone. I will fight it until it passes and it almost always passes. Almost always....I am not perfect - when I do slip up I refuse to let it sabotage everything I have done. A box of cookies will not add 100 pounds to my body overnight. I get up the next day and treat it like any other day. I eat right, I work out, I put my energy into something other than thinking about food, and I forgive myself. I am only human. I will make mistakes. I accept that and no longer punish myself for it. No longer being told no, knowing that eating sweets does not make me a bad person, and I am capable of balancing the diet that gave me my life back. Most of the time...sugar is still my drug.



**UPDATE***
I have found that eliminating refined sugars from my diet has drastically improved my health. I no longer have craving (99% of the time) by replacing unhealthy treats for healthy options. I LOVE and swear by www.chocolatecoveredkatie.com for healthy sweet treats. I do not live a deprived life, I live a healthy life WITH treats. Check her out and just start slow. Find a recipe that you are comfortable trying and give it a shot!! I promise you will be blown away!!

People are Cruel Regardless of Size When You Do Not Meet Their Expectations.

 
 Everyone has a why. A reason they are who they are. Why they dislike someone or something. Why they yell, or cry, or shy away.  Why some are loud, outgoing, and confident. Understanding the reasons behind a person actions and behaviors makes them not seem so bad, we see a human. We may even find compassion and understanding for them, instead of intolerance and frustration.  I present my story of why.  I am a product of my experiences, as we all are. Let us embrace empathy for each other before we assume and place judgement. 

     When I reached the age that I was aware of others and our differences, I was the heaviest kid in the third grade and the seed of self hate was planted.  I do not remember  a time when I looked in the mirror and loved what I saw. I grew up comparing myself to others around me, models, and actresses. I did not think I was as worthy to life as the beautiful people. I did not think I was a beautiful person.  When I was young, my grandmother told me my baby fat would go away as I got older. When it stuck around and brought some friends I felt like I had failed. Why had the other girls slimmed down and I had only gotten bigger? In that moment, I labeled myself different. My body was not like the other girls in my class and that made me believe my body was wrong.

     I learned to hide how I felt about my body in 6th grade after I had a bully physically abuse me on more than one occasion.  I would never show physical weakness again and I learned to carry myself with aggression. If I appeared scary, no one would hurt me. Inside I felt trapped behind a mask; I was not an aggressive person... I was a scared girl desperately seeking confirmation for my existence.  But I refused to let the aggressors be stronger than me.  I believed I was worth being loved and I would make it to the moment when I would find that love.

     I developed a distrust of people in 6th grade as well when the entire school, including people I called my friends, conspired against me.  I attended a small country school - the total student population from kindergarten through 6th grade was maybe 50 kids.  During volleyball practice after school I was informed that the boy I had a crush on and the popular girl where now a couple. People waited for my reaction. I held it together, made it through practice, and saved my tears for the privacy of my bedroom.  It was after dinner  when a friend called to tell me the truth, that it was a lie, everyone was in on it, and they just wanted to see what I would do.  This moment caused me to have difficulty trusting people.  I never let them see me cry. I learned to hold in my emotions.

     I carried my tough exterior with me through high school. I survived name calling, pushing, people trying to fight me, and my own dietary abuse. This picture creates an image of a large unhappy girl. Inn retrospect, I was only one of those. I was unhappy.  I was not large, though I was not a size zero.  I happen to have  a woman's figure amongst a sea of junior figures and I stood out.  Standing out in high school puts a target on a persons back and my target felt huge.

     I heard fat shaming comments for years. "Are you sure you want to eat that?" "What size do you want to be?" Funny thing is the size that seemed too big for me at 16 is the size I am now at 31! I'm not unhealthy now and I wasn't at an unhealthy weight then either.  It was the expected appearance for a teenager that I did not have, therefore my figure was wrong and I was fat.  How many girls are tortured because they do not look like the socially expected 16 year old? I kept my head down, shoulders slummed, and made little eye contact. I did my best to be invisible.

     I did have moments when I was able to forget my physical appearance and enjoy a social life in high school. I was Drama Club President and in every theater production. Acting made it easy to forget my size. I could be anyone.  My first major role was the seductive villain in a 1920's inspired play entitled "Peril on the High Seas".  I loved my character and my cast-mates.  I embraced the seductive nature of my character until opening night.  I will never forget the scene in which my character is seducing the male lead. I had on a 1920's all black glamours costume. I wore a long faux fur coat over my floor length dress. In the moment, in character I removed my coat, a move that was intended to be sexy. I should have won the Academy Award for not bursting into tears and running off stage when I heard boo's and, "Put it back on!" being shouted from the audience.  I finished the performance and accepted a very heart felt apology from one of  the other actors in the play. His friends where the shouters and he felt horrible. We preformed the play four more times and I didn't take my jacket off again during the production. I know now, looking back, that high school boys are dumb and insensitive but even rationalizing the behavior does not take away the scar.

     It just became easier for me to push people away and wallflower myself as I got older. No one was going to hurt me if they couldn't get near me. I had great friends that stuck by me but I never made too many new friends after high school. I was scared of people. I had allowed myself to be abused by a boyfriend for a couple of years because it was better than being alone. Just being able to say the words "I have a boyfriend" made me feel whole and less invisible. Of course I told no one of the abuse and hid it well.  After years of put downs, physical abuse by bullies, and constant reminders that I was not socially acceptable, an abusive boyfriend did not seem wrong. Somehow I deserved what I got because I was not pretty.  I believed fat girls should be thankful for what they can get.
   

     I believe that life teaches us lessons to strengthen our purposes, our reason for being who we are.  It is not easy to talk about my past.  I have been misunderstood by many over the years simply because I do not wear a sign explaining why I am the way I am. When I lost my weight I felt in limbo, my body was healthy but my mind needed time to catch up. I still had anxiety around people, especially in large groups.  From my experiences, people made me nervous and I needed time to trust again. New people in my life where thrown off by my social awkwardness because they did not know the "fat" me, all they saw was the new physically healthy me. Unfortunately, the old me's mind in the new me's body did not match and for that I have experienced judgment and intolerance.  The judgement and intolerance slowed the mental healing process down, people are cruel regardless of size when you do not meet their expectations.

     Am I shy? Yes. Am I slow to trust people? Very much so.  Have I ever seemed awkward at times?  Is it understandable as to why I am that way? I hope so. Now the ultimate question; why am I sharing this?  I have chosen to expose my most vulnerable side in an attempt to help people understand that we ALL are products of our environment and experiences.  As a society, if we could slow down and listen to each others stories we would learn a great deal about life, the strength of the human spirit, and the unbelievable power our words and actions have on each other.  My past has given me purpose. My purpose is to help people embrace who they are, what their bodies look like, and help them love themselves.  Self esteem is not a pill one can take, it is learned.

     To anyone the may have social anxiety, know that you are not alone and that you have an incredible amount of strength inside of you. The feeling of judgment can tear a person apart. It can make it difficult to move beyond the scars. The fat third grader, the bullied 6th grader, the humiliated 16 year old, the abused 20 year old, and the 300 pound 25 year old will ALWAYS be apart of me.  These are the chapters to my story and once the story is told, suddenly I make a lot more sense to people who just did not "get" me. I am writing new chapters to my life now and I am over coming my anxieties because my mind is getting healthy as well. The world may not see a fat girl but I have been looking at the world through fat girl eyes my entire life. It takes time to heal and trust.

     I do not know your story. You do not have to share with me. I do, however, promise to not judge and allow you the freedom to write your story because every one of us is different.  We all have a story as to why we are the way we are. Judgment will not change that - it will only put up walls and take away valuable lessons and meaningful relationship with one and another.