Going Slow, Trying to Work It Out

I'm starting the week out slow. I wrote a couple of articles for suite101.com over the weekend. One titled Dying from a Broken Heart and the other How To Quit Smoking. If you see any mistakes in them, let me know. I'm the Queen of Missing Words.

I'm still working on the article about Food Addiction. It's hard for me to write because I'm so close to the topic.  While I'm getting better at knowing when I'm physically full, I still suffer from sugar attacks. Anyway, with the article, I feel like, "How can I tell people about food addiction if I'm a food addict myself?"

Clean House and Hoarders
I watched Clean House—The Messiest Home yesterday. Wow. Hoarding behavior again. I really identify with this kind of behavior, but on the level of weight. Hoarders are afraid to give up their stuff. I'm afraid to give up my fat. It somehow brings me security, even though I try to tell myself and others that's not the case. I think another blogger, Journey Beyond Survival, said the same thing. Anyway, I'm working through it—trying to figure out what's going on in my head. My fat is somehow linked to my identity. If I lose it, I'll lose part of who I am—maybe. I don't know.

weight loss, hoarders

Don't' Remind Me that I'm a Screw up

I've been reading a lot of blogs about overeating addictions. Some are them are by the people who are addicted. Others are by people who want to help the addicted person, but don't know how. Some of those people say they have approached the person to point out their behavior thinking they may not know they have a problem.

Believe me, they probably already know it. And here's a hint: People usually don't want to be reminded that they are big screw ups. Oftentimes even what might be considered gentle prodding can be taken the wrong way—especially if the person has a long history of low self esteem. Perhaps he or she was the subject of bulling in school. Or maybe they are the product of strike parents. The kinds of scars left from what happens early in life are hard to heal. And likely have a lot to do with the addictive behavior.

I'll use myself as an example. I know I eat too much and all of the wrong things. I know this behavior leads to my being overweight. I don't need anyone to point that out to me. I know that if I eat an entire cake by myself I will get sick and will likely gain weight—especially if I use this behavior to cope on a regular basis. Here's another hint: I'm not going to stop this behavior as long as it's working for me. Even when it becomes painful, I will still continue this coping behavior because it's worked in the past, and I don't know of other ways to cope with the world. And finding other ways is difficult. It's a lot of hard work.

Continuing with me as an example, what will work for me is finding other people who are like me. People who can't cope with the world unless they eat something—anything. Finding fellowship and realizing that I am not alone has long been my antidote to destructive behavior. This blog has often been a lifesaver—and not the kind comes in fruit flavors. People who stop by to say, "Hey, I know exactly what you mean," and "here's what I did to cope in that situation" have been the biggest help. Others who stop by just to say, "hang in there" help me as well. And to all of you, I say thank you.

What doesn't help, though, is when some friend decides to tell me that I'm eating too much and may be harming my health. "No kidding?" is what I'm thinking. Along with, "Why don't you just go to hell?" While the concern may be real, it's often not taken in that context. Here's another hint: I'm not likely to take this advice and won't do anything to help myself until I'm ready.

So that's all I have to say today. While I may sound bitter—yeah I probably am—constant advice from a well-meaning friend isn't going to help me.

Changing Myself and Not Worrying about Changing Anyone Else

When I was much younger, I worked at a homeless shelter. I worked with many recovering and practicing alcoholics. What I learned from this job is that I can't change anyone who does not want to be changed. I learned to accept things at face value. And I learned that I am better off working on my own problems. That's why I quit working as in social service organizations and became a writer. Writing is something I can do on my own. 

So why bring this up? It's my job. I can't change anyone else who works here, but I can change the way I react—or don't react—to what's going on. Some people try to control every situation. It just can't be done. So what I need to do is give people enough rope to hang themselves. It saves me lots of time and aggravation. 

I had an assessment of my exercise routine this morning and apparently I've already done every exercise known to man. Not really—the trainer who was going over my routine, however, was having trouble thinking of anything new. Did I tell you I lost my former trainer? I have no idea what happened—only that things seem kind of suspicious. Hmmmm. I've speculated numerous times over what happened, but I'm not really sure. 

Anyway, I do have a few new exercises to do—the abductor-adductor machine, Roman chair, and couple of others. Soooo, I'm kind of looking forward to it. I like doing different things. 

I didn't do much over the weekend except think about life and why people behave in certain ways. I think it's because there is something that this behavior—whether it's good or bad—does for them. Does that make sense? They get something out of acting little a spoiled brat. Their behavior is somehow rewarded. My job is to realize that I can't do anything about it.