I really enjoyed this comment from Anonymous:
I agree with Melissa's earlier statements about an "increase of pain." Pain is such a strange word if you ask me. When my eating is in control, it sure does seem that I'm not in pain. But then inevitably there is a break in that control and it wasn't anything specific in my mind that caused it to happen. It is only with time and patience that I've discovered that this feeling that is labeled "pain" for me is not really pain. It is awareness. Awareness of my body makes me eat. When I become aware of every day existence, in the moments when I'm not
hungry yet but I'm certainly no longer full from my last meal, I become aware of me in the world. I become aware of my voices and my own promptings and other peoples voices that conflict with who I am and all the things that I've done and that have been done that have shamed me and like a frightened child too afraid to face the dark I seek comfort in food to make those sensations disappear. It's hard to hear the voices in my head if I have a cookie in my mouth.
There's several things described in this comment that I've experienced:
-When my eating is in control, it sure does seem that I'm not in pain.
When my eating is in control, life feels good. When it's out of control, despair washes over everything. When in control, things seem manageable. Even if your weight is not where you want it, if you know you're eating within intuitive boundaries, you feel everything is under control and ok (which tells me it's really not about weight but about feeling in control). When turning a blind eye and overeating (not waiting for real hunger and not stopping when comfortably satisfied), it's an agitated state to be in.
-But then inevitably there is a break in that control and it wasn't anything specific in my mind that caused it to happen.
I've often tried to pinpoint that switchover point (the 'break') where the self-control is lost and mayhem resumes. When eating is under control, it feels so good that it's hard to fathom ever feeling stuffed again. Then-whamo-suddenly one is back on the other side, out of control and, well, overeating and feeling stuffed again. How does it change? Honest to god, sometimes I think it's a form of blacking out or amnesia that breaks the self-control.
It is only with time and patience that I've discovered that this feeling that is labeled "pain" for me is not really pain. It is awareness. Awareness of my body makes me eat.
'Awareness of my body makes me eat.' That's a real trigger for so many. Oddly, if you ask overweight people what they weighed when they first started dieting, that weight would probably now be a goal weight. We start rejecting our bodies before they are truly out of control/really overweight, and then diet and overeat (yoyo) our way into bodies that are unhealthy and overweight.It's like the problem wasn't really there, and then we set out to fix it and, in the process, actually create the problem!
When I become aware of every day existence, in the moments when I'm not hungry yet but I'm certainly no longer full from my last meal, I become aware of me in the world. I become aware of my voices and my own promptings and other peoples voices that conflict with who I am and all the things that I've done and that have been done that have shamed me and like a frightened child too afraid to face the dark I seek comfort in food to make those sensations disappear. It's hard to hear the voices in my head if I have a cookie in my mouth.
Why are we so reluctant to simply feel discomfort and ride it through? Why the urge to block it? Are those past experiences and annoying or hurtful or abusive people really entitled to control our bodies, our hearts? Why do we take over the work they started and continue to abuse over selves? And shame--shame is a killer. Do we overeat to punish ourselves out of shame? Why do we think it's ok to over stuff our bodies? Isn't that in itself a shame-worthy act? Aren't we then abusing the greatest gift we've been given: life itself? Are we fighting fire with fire?
What if you couldn't overeat and just had to feel shame? Then what?
Thanks for your comments. They're very helpful. I hope you'll write more.
I really enjoyed this comment from Anonymous:
I agree with Melissa's earlier statements about an "increase of pain." Pain is such a strange word if you ask me. When my eating is in control, it sure does seem that I'm not in pain. But then inevitably there is a break in that control and it wasn't anything specific in my mind that caused it to happen. It is only with time and patience that I've discovered that this feeling that is labeled "pain" for me is not really pain. It is awareness. Awareness of my body makes me eat. When I become aware of every day existence, in the moments when I'm not
hungry yet but I'm certainly no longer full from my last meal, I become aware of me in the world. I become aware of my voices and my own promptings and other peoples voices that conflict with who I am and all the things that I've done and that have been done that have shamed me and like a frightened child too afraid to face the dark I seek comfort in food to make those sensations disappear. It's hard to hear the voices in my head if I have a cookie in my mouth.
There's several things described in this comment that I've experienced:
-When my eating is in control, it sure does seem that I'm not in pain.
When my eating is in control, life feels good. When it's out of control, despair washes over everything. When in control, things seem manageable. Even if your weight is not where you want it, if you know you're eating within intuitive boundaries, you feel everything is under control and ok (which tells me it's really not about weight but about feeling in control). When turning a blind eye and overeating (not waiting for real hunger and not stopping when comfortably satisfied), it's an agitated state to be in.
-But then inevitably there is a break in that control and it wasn't anything specific in my mind that caused it to happen.
I've often tried to pinpoint that switchover point (the 'break') where the self-control is lost and mayhem resumes. When eating is under control, it feels so good that it's hard to fathom ever feeling stuffed again. Then-whamo-suddenly one is back on the other side, out of control and, well, overeating and feeling stuffed again. How does it change? Honest to god, sometimes I think it's a form of blacking out or amnesia that breaks the self-control.
It is only with time and patience that I've discovered that this feeling that is labeled "pain" for me is not really pain. It is awareness. Awareness of my body makes me eat.
'Awareness of my body makes me eat.' That's a real trigger for so many. Oddly, if you ask overweight people what they weighed when they first started dieting, that weight would probably now be a goal weight. We start rejecting our bodies before they are truly out of control/really overweight, and then diet and overeat (yoyo) our way into bodies that are unhealthy and overweight.It's like the problem wasn't really there, and then we set out to fix it and, in the process, actually create the problem!
When I become aware of every day existence, in the moments when I'm not hungry yet but I'm certainly no longer full from my last meal, I become aware of me in the world. I become aware of my voices and my own promptings and other peoples voices that conflict with who I am and all the things that I've done and that have been done that have shamed me and like a frightened child too afraid to face the dark I seek comfort in food to make those sensations disappear. It's hard to hear the voices in my head if I have a cookie in my mouth.
Why are we so reluctant to simply feel discomfort and ride it through? Why the urge to block it? Are those past experiences and annoying or hurtful or abusive people really entitled to control our bodies, our hearts? Why do we take over the work they started and continue to abuse over selves? And shame--shame is a killer. Do we overeat to punish ourselves out of shame? Why do we think it's ok to over stuff our bodies? Isn't that in itself a shame-worthy act? Aren't we then abusing the greatest gift we've been given: life itself? Are we fighting fire with fire?
What if you couldn't overeat and just had to feel shame? Then what?
Thanks for your comments. They're very helpful. I hope you'll write more.