“Too much of my life has merely been about survival and others. Too many things have lead to mistreating myself, hence weight and health. Hope is toward a positive mindset, positive goals, positive friends and the Lord.” Sometimes a revelation (of sorts) occurs when least expected. The quote above is something I wrote in a message to a friend. It represents so many occurrences in my life, distinct situations. Mostly, it reminds me how my disappointment, anger and hurt brought on by the actions of other people have resulted in a shove toward mistreating myself. My greatest pleasure was helping and pleasing others. Yet they often left me feeling unappreciated, used, incompetent and/or unloved, and I fueled those feelings with alcohol, cigarettes, and after those, food.
Mistreating myself has never been done with any deliberation. Yet, at some point my eyes opened. I realized when I feel any of the emotions described above, and unable to express my feelings to that person with any resolve, I’ve eaten comfort.
When I smoked I attempted to quite many times, but always started again. The last time I quit my primary focus was to determine why I kept starting. What was happening in my life? What did I feel about me, about the people around me? The “ah-hah!” moment came when I realized I started smoking again when extremes struck, like stress, anxiety and grief. When I was young, frustrated by the abuse and helplessness I felt at home I started smoking. Another time my ex called off our wedding only a few weeks before, and left soon after we would have married. It was the day he left that I bought a pack of smokes. The last time I started smoking again was when I learned my mother had inoperable cancer. She was going to die. There were far too many emotions attached with that news, and nothing else made sense.
No event is an excuse, but smoking was my reaction. Learning what rekindled the smoking was the key that helped me permanently quite.
On a similar level food has become the remedy. Not so much the quantity as the quality. Despite knowing this, I’m realizing that carbs and/or higher fat foods have become such a habit that now I’m in the battle of my life. Proper foods make my body feel better. However, what I have been finding is once the “feeling better” is no longer fresh (I’ve become accustom to feeling better), I don’t feel satisfied. Nothing is creating the emotional sense of contentedness and comfort I crave. Like when an alcoholic picks up that drink after sobriety, old habits return. Time and again I find myself back at that place where I need to start over AGAIN!
My emotions, stress and anxiety need pampering, but in a way that doesn’t involve food. In some ways this blog is doing just that for me.
Sometimes a revelation (of sorts) occurs when least expected. The quote above is something I wrote in a message to a friend. It represents so many occurrences in my life, distinct situations. Mostly, it reminds me how my disappointment, anger and hurt brought on by the actions of other people have resulted in a shove toward mistreating myself. My greatest pleasure was helping and pleasing others. Yet they often left me feeling unappreciated, used, incompetent and/or unloved, and I fueled those feelings with alcohol, cigarettes, and after those, food.
Mistreating myself has never been done with any deliberation. Yet, at some point my eyes opened. I realized when I feel any of the emotions described above, and unable to express my feelings to that person with any resolve, I’ve eaten comfort.
When I smoked I attempted to quite many times, but always started again. The last time I quit my primary focus was to determine why I kept starting. What was happening in my life? What did I feel about me, about the people around me? The “ah-hah!” moment came when I realized I started smoking again when extremes struck, like stress, anxiety and grief. When I was young, frustrated by the abuse and helplessness I felt at home I started smoking. Another time my ex called off our wedding only a few weeks before, and left soon after we would have married. It was the day he left that I bought a pack of smokes. The last time I started smoking again was when I learned my mother had inoperable cancer. She was going to die. There were far too many emotions attached with that news, and nothing else made sense.
No event is an excuse, but smoking was my reaction. Learning what rekindled the smoking was the key that helped me permanently quite.
On a similar level food has become the remedy. Not so much the quantity as the quality. Despite knowing this, I’m realizing that carbs and/or higher fat foods have become such a habit that now I’m in the battle of my life. Proper foods make my body feel better. However, what I have been finding is once the “feeling better” is no longer fresh (I’ve become accustom to feeling better), I don’t feel satisfied. Nothing is creating the emotional sense of contentedness and comfort I crave. Like when an alcoholic picks up that drink after sobriety, old habits return. Time and again I find myself back at that place where I need to start over AGAIN!
My emotions, stress and anxiety need pampering, but in a way that doesn’t involve food. In some ways this blog is doing just that for me.