Emotional Eating

Putting an end to emotional eating means that I need to find the courage to stand up for myself and my rights - especially with the people who mean the most to me.

It means that I will no longer be able to let those with more powerful energies railroad me into things I don’t want for myself.

It means  that I will no longer pick up responsibilities that belong to other people just because I see a need not being met.

It means that I will no longer let people with passive-aggressive tendencies push my buttons and get a reaction out of me.

It means I will not let other people use their negative energies to contaminate my space and stifle my spirit.

Sometimes the situation will call for me to vocalize my non-acceptance of what is happening.  Other times all it will take is a certain mindset on my part.  “No, I do not accept those words.  I will not even deem them worthy of a response.”

Just because the other person’s headspace is contaminated does not mean that I have to allow it to spill over and affect me even if they are a part of my world – and even if I care about them.

I came across a quote, from an unknown source, that I am going to keep with me for the next little while until these goals are second nature to me:

“Surround yourself only with people who are going to lift you higher.”

Destroying myself with food is no longer an option I even choose to consider.  Emotional eating is all about me abusing me so that I won’t say something another person won’t like hearing.

New Face On An Old Problem

She is six years old and absolutely devoted to Daddy – has been since birth. 

 Lately he has started touching her in places where he shouldn’t.  “Shhh, this is our secret.  Don’t tell the others.”  She looks over at her two younger sisters playing on the other side of the room.  Mommy has gone out shopping.

She is not real comfortable with what Daddy is doing – but it must be okay.  Daddy would never do anything to hurt her(?)  And it makes her feel kind of special – that Daddy chose her over the others.  He must love her the most.

A teacher begins to notice some changes in the little girl’s behavior, and wonders, just for a moment, and then shakes the thought away.  Ridiculous!  He is a very sociable young man – a successful young businessman – his wife belongs to the PTA.

And if anyone does investigate a little further – who is going to tell – not that devoted little girl that shares a secret with her Daddy, who can do no wrong in her young eyes.

And before this is over, Daddy will go further and further, with all three daughters.  And they will be grown women before they find out they weren’t the only one.  And they still won’t have found a way to navigate through the pain of it all. 

This unresolved pain keeps getting in the way of their relationship with their husbands.  They don’t dare let him change diapers on their little girls, or help with the baths, or babysit.  They overreact every time he offers.  His feelings are hurt – he doesn’t understand why she won’t accept his help – when he can tell she needs it.  And he sees these as lost opportunities for him to bond with his little girl.

Everybody is paying a price right down through the generations….

Struggling For Answers

I heard about another incident today.  I can understand emotional incest – it is not deliberate – and there is a lot of codependency in our society.

But we can no longer get away with saying “These men are sick perverts who never learned how to get their needs met in healthier ways.” 

We are hearing about more and more family men who are committing these atrocities – putting their hands where they don’t belong – crawling into their daughter’s bed at night – and then getting up in the morning and driving her to school like nothing happened.

What are these men doing  – “zoning out”?  How are they justifying it to themselves?  What do they think gives them that right?  Do they still not understand what scars these invisible crimes leave for these innocent children to work through?  We are no longer living in the dark ages here.

And these are not all bad men we are talking about.  Many of them are there for their children in every other way – except this one – respecting their RIGHT TO NOT BE TOUCHED IN INAPPROPRIATE WAYS BY ANY MAN, LET ALONE THEIR FATHER. 

I know some of these men – I’ve met some of them. I have seen them plan birthday parties for the same little girls they are molesting whenever they feel the urge - I have seen them cry at sad movies – they are kind to animals and strangers – they are respectful and thoughtful of others in so many ways.  So what is going on?

I don’t understand it.  How do they live with themselves afterwards?  How do they look that little girl in the eyes the next day?  How do they continue to interact with that little girl when she’s a grown woman?

Come on, folks, we gotta figure out what’s going on here so we can help put a stop to it.  No more smokescreens!

If anyone can shed any light on this subject and help me and others understand, we will be eternally grateful.

Jeckyll & Hyde

I remember as I was growing up, coming home from school with tales of woe sometimes and complaining about it to my father – how a teacher had been unfair to me – or another kid had been mean to me.   Instead of acknowledging my injury or pain, he always tried to get me to see their side of the story.  You can just imagine how much I appreciated this. (Not!)  I always felt he was taking their side.

But now I am very grateful to my father for this tendency of his.  I know it would have been better if he acknowledged the injury to me and my pained feelings before moving into the possible reasons behind their behavior.  I eventually learned how to do this for myself.  But his tactics left me with an invaluable tool - which sometimes feels like a curse.  I grew up being able to see beyond people’s behavior that was hurting me to the person behind the behavior.  I have to admit that it leaves me feeling pretty torn sometimes as I work my way through the emotions, but I am still grateful for the ability to hate the sin without hating the sinner.

The other day I heard a young man (wise beyond his years) say these words(I don’t know if they are his own or somebody else’s but they are worth repeating):

“There’s so much good in the worst of us and so much bad in the best of us; that it doesn’t do any good to talk about the rest of us.” 

Relapse

I had been successfully following my new food plan for three weeks without a single cheat when a situation presented itself in my family that required some emotional work on my part.

I was not up for the challenge and ended up heavy into the Hallowe’en candy that was packed away waiting for the day of the trick or treaters.  The candy had been in the house for the three weeks that I was following the new food plan but did not tempt me once until the emotional upheaval.

It took me almost two weeks to sort out what happened and get myself back on track.  It did not happen until I worked my way through “the situation” and admitted to myself what I had to do, and then put those wheels in motion – painful as they were.  Then I was able to also get my food back in order – choosing a food plan that was not so restrictive that it excluded some of the healthier carbs that my body needed.

When I was trying to make sense of what happened, I wrote in my journal: “I went down the slippery slope of self-hatred and punished myself with food.  It became so intermingled that I was unable to determine which came first – the food or the self-hatred.”

But now that I am looking back, I realize that all of it was about running away from my emotions the same way I always have - instead of facing up to something that was not working in my life and doing something about it, I would escape into the food until life forced a solution on me.

My Recovery leaves no room for that kind of escapism any longer and the feelings of self-hatred that always accompany it.

The Black Pearl

A wounded man
in deep inner pain
never owning it
creating shame.

His children pay the price
of pain denied, honor forsaken,
truths untold, love never shown.

But he was not alone;
it was this way in many a home.
Doors hiding secrets
that threatened their status
but holding the pearl
that would make them whole.

Enmeshment

He keeps on feeding his addiction
for he knows
he lacks the inner resources
to untangle the mess
he has made of his world.
He never meant for this to happen;
he doesn’t know how it did.
How did things end up so far away
from all the ideals he cherished.
How could he face himself in the mirror
if her eyes saw the truth.
Better he keep her dead
than risk losing
the only power he has to survive
this baffling world of pain.

The Gaping Wound

His love for her had no boundaries
from the day she was born
but whose needs was it designed to meet
if truth be told.
He never really saw HER
Didn’t even know HER
and a part of her knew this
and KNEW
that she always had to be good
always had to agree
never tell the truth
of who she really was
or she would lose
even this semblance of love
leaving her at the mercy
of all those he had turned against her
unintentionally
with HIS need for love.

Shadowbox

She made him into a god
a giant of a man
her young eyes never saw
the clay feet
that walked a wayward path.

His word was gospel
written on her heart
guiding her every move.
Any reprimand from him
was murder to her soul.

He was the only one
who made her feel safe.
How would she survive
if he abandoned her
as he so often threatened to do.

Will she ever see the light of day
after burying herself so deep
in a fortress of fat
that formed itself
layer upon layer
crushing that little seed
of what could have been
which grew smaller
year by year.

Now he is gone
and she is the old one.
She opens her mouth
and her ears hear
his crushing words pour forth
destroying all innocence in its path
before it has a chance to blossom
and question his authority
for without it he is nothing
less than a worm
crawling on the ground
and he would be forced
to wrestle his own inner demons
and that would drive him mad.

Chains That Enslave

Nobody had taught her
how to protect herself
from abusive energies
that overpowered her
from the cradle to the grave.

Once she found herself in a social circle
tongues telling falsehoods
destroying people.
Ears listening to lies
sentencing to death.
Hands not reaching out
to save the innocent.

Survival demanded
her return to solitude
never finding her way
to a community that welcomed her
enough to respect
her sensitive soul.