Learning how to feed my body, part 1: the problem

I haven't actually said much about food yet on this blog, and anyone who knows me IRL knows that this is very surprising.

I loves me some food. FOOOOOOD. Oh wow, food is just, food. Mmmmm food.

I'm an unrepentant foodie. I work at an organic farm. I love, LOVE to cook. I teach cooking. On weekends I get to cook for my family (that's a duty owned by my spouse during the week). I used to be a professional cook. I volunteer to get a local food co-op off the ground. I garden and keep chickens so that my food can be ultra-fresh. My whole life--my family, professional, personal, everything--revolves around food.

And for all this, it's taken me until age 39.5 (I'm hanging on to that .5 with a deathgrip) to even begin having a healthy relationship with food. And I am definitely only at the beginning of this journey.

Recently I picked up Nia Shank's ebook 33 Way to Break Free from Binge Eating. I'm nearly done with it, and it's given me much to think about. (See? See? I didn't say "food for thought" cause that would be a terrible pun. You're welcome.) Some of the material in this book is familiar territory to me, and some is new and novel. I had not previously understood what a binge eating disorder is (as a different diagnosis from, e.g., anorexia, or body dysmorphia). I was stunned that someone like Nia Shanks could suffer from such a thing, and that surprise all by itself speaks volumes to how badly understood eating disorders are in our culture. Having read this, it's clear to me that I do not have a binge eating disorder, and for that I am very thankful.**

However, something that is sticking with me about this book, and probably the reason I'm compelled to write about it here, is that I can see the outlines of that disorder in my own life. While I don't think I've ever had a full-blown binge episode, much of what she says about the mental place she was in with respect to food sounds very familiar to me. To be able to see some of my own misaligned relationship with food, and then to read an account of just how far off the rails that train can actually go... it's very sobering.

What are these outlines that seem so familiar to me? Gosh, these things are gonna be kind of hard to talk about, partially because they're very personal, and partially because it's just difficult to take an internal situation and put it into words that make sense in other people's heads. It's like rehearsing a conversation to sound one way in your head, but it never sounds that way when it's spoken aloud. But anyway, I'll give it a shot. Because I am such the fan of crutches, I'm going to rely on a bullet list to help organize my thoughts (or to hide behind, whatever):

• Eating until I'm in pain. Yeah, been there, done that. And honestly, who hasn't? But not just at Thanksgiving, or at a birthday party, but like, on a Monday. And why? Because the food was there. And because my brain just wouldn't process the idea of "being done". I would resist, and not take more for, like, five whole minutes before grabbing another piece of pizza (that would be, what, five pieces?). And then some more chips. Or a breadstick. Or some broccoli, because that's healthy, right? Not because I'm hungry. Not because it sounds good, or because I want some, or because I'm bored. Just because, for some reason, my brain doesn't flip the "I'm done" switch. And I can see what I'm doing and just keep doing it. Why can't I just stop eating?! But for some reason, it doesn't work that way.
• Hiding what I eat. I'm not terribly guilty of this anymore, but it's not fully exorcised from my life either, and there have been times when it was bad. Sneaking food. Picking around to keep it from looking like you've eaten anything. Finishing off food in the kitchen after everyone's gone. When I was in elementary school I used to steal peanut butter by the spoonful when my dad was taking an afternoon nap. In high school during the summer I would order whole pizzas (pepperoni, extra cheese) during the day when my parents weren't home, finish them off, and take the box out to the trashcan before anyone could see it. And, of course, I'd be so ashamed of myself, but I'd wall that part off and do it all again. And again. Never a full-on binge, but never an ability to make a different decision to just. stop. eating. (or, in fact, ordering it in the first place)
• The fear response to food. I smoked when I was in college and through some of my 20's. I would want to quit, but then this thought, this mental contemplation of "life without cigarettes" would worm its way into my head, and my stomach would seize up into a little ball of panic. The whole idea of "no more cigarettes" was just too terrifying. In point of fact (and I'll admit, this is one of the more genius mental tricks I've come up with), I've never quit smoking. I just keep deciding not to have a cigarette right now. I've been deciding-not-to-have-a-cigarette-right-now for about fifteen years (with the occasional New Year's party deciding-to-have-a-cigarette moment), and it's working out fairly well. But that awful feeling, that balling up of my stomach, the adrenalin spike, the heart rate increase--those happen to me when I think through some of my more disordered eating habits. When I'm picking out foods to take with me for lunch, my brain says "Don't take all of that food, you don't need it all, just take one or two of those things" and then the mini-panic hits and my mind flees from the reasonable suggestion of my brain (and I take all the food). Even in places like my previous decision to take smaller bites and not load up my fork. I can do it, sure, but when I think about it, I get panicky. I can't even explain why. It scares me, too. No one should feel panicked about not putting tons of food on one's fork, but that's what happens.

So there we have it, my f*cked up relationship with food. I've gotta say, typing all of this out was not fun. This is probably the most honest I've ever been about my disordered eating habits, or at least, it's the most honest I've ever been all at once. And I'm sure that's not it, this is just what's in my head right now. It's particularly difficult because I can read through all of this, know that it's a true and reasonably accurate representation of my eating habits, and still think "holy crap, you crazy bitch, why do you behave like this?" I watch friends who finish meals and leave food on their plate; I am in awe and envy and abject shame--this is something I've never been able to do, and I don't know why. It makes me want to cry.

Yeah, you know what? This was all just really hard, and I need to stop now. This post just became a part 1 of 2 (or whatever), cause I'm done.

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p.s. You can now go visit Part 2, which is much happier



** I really want to be very clear that while I am actively working on my relationship with food, I do not suffer from a clinical eating disorder, nor do I want anyone to mistake me for claiming this. Eating disorders are very serious, very dangerous, and very hard to escape. If anyone reading this has any concern about their own eating process, please get help. Do not mistake my stuff here for how to cope with a clinical eating disorder, because I do not have one. If you don't know much about eating disorders and how serious they can be, please watch the following video: "Eating and Body Dysmorphic Disorders".