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One friends in a hell of a mess and I don't want to got to meetings because of the nut job I think is actually dangerous. I slept all night last night, back to bed at 7am , slept til noon, got up and went back to bed at 1pm slept til3.  I felt like I had been drugged for surgery. I don't think it is depression but there are several different kinds of depression and this may be one I have never experienced before. I hope i don't get shot or stabbed before this shit is over with the crazy member M.B.

Kimberly -thanks for sharing your experiences and thanks for the tips on how to allow the program to work for me. I will try a new approach.

I felt like an idiot after I posted because  frankly, it seemed to make me sound like an idiot. Just getting honest with you all helps some of the chatter die down, especially the leader with the megaphone. lol I don't think I quite hit my point total but I did take in plenty of protein so my points were good points and no stupid ones. I actually was in a twist about having added to many raisins to my special one cup , bowl earlier today. Really, 12 raisins would shoot me out of the point water for the day? lol   If you all don't mind I may try it again when my thoughts are screwed, it did help me today getting the crazy out and sharing it.  

One thing I know for sure and that I don't have to waste time and energy wondering about, that is SUGAR may just as well be crack cocaine. One bite of sugar turns loose this monster from the pit of my core than is coming out for more sugar. A spoon of ice cream and licking the bottom of the carton. Those 9.00 specialty coffees,,,,,,,,,I need to bring 30 bucks with me because I'm not stopping til the monster says I can. Part of being a drug addict is there is a driving force in me whether it be booze or pills that frightens me to start knowing there is a strong possibility I will have stop, just one shy of having enough.  One cookie, one candy, one frozen coffee. I want to know that once I start I WILL be satisfied. Then after the monster has had it's way and left me crumbled in bed, the self loathing comes relentlessly.  The obsession followed by compulsion is the actual equation in Narcotics Anonymous when discussing what is addiction. I recover from benzodiazepines one day at a time, only with food, I have to learn how to appropriately nourish my body with out eating to death.  The drugs are easier because I just don't put one in my mouth.

Set him Free

For 20 years I arrogantly believed that I knew when I turned inward and quit letting my feeling escape. I thought I new when I went into the whole. It seemed at 12 when the house went nuts when my sisters drug abuse which dovetailed into menopause for my mother. When I say shit was crazy it was crazy, some stuff I wouldn't even would to speak into the air.

Through therapy and my intense inquisitiveness I have been spelunking into the dark caves of my experience and my emotions.

I have figured out that by 5 years old, I already was trying not to let on that I was frightened or angry. My mom took me into a little 5 and Dime in a town near ours. I was looking at a toy display and I looked up and my mother was gone. I hurried down the aisle and did not find her. At this time my chest had cut my ability to breath off. Pounding in my ears . I was trying to figure out how she could forget I was with her and leave. As I was in full little boy panic attack mode, I tried to walk slow and make it look like I was completely fine. I was melting down and I couldn't cry out and say help. She appeared as quickly as she disappeared and I tried to look like nothing had been wrong.

I had already bought into "my feelings are bad and must not be shared".  It made me feel week if I let you know I was melting down. It didn't have much to do with actual embarrassment. It had to do with me censoring my feelings and it proved to be a near deadly decision on my part to not share fear, or pain or joy for that matter. Everything had to remain dark. Mushrooms and fear/terror are the things that grow best in the dark. 40 years later, it's hard for me to open up and share what goes on when my mouth closes and i am left with only the bad messages I was injected with as a baby.

I'm trying to live differently. I am trying not to sensor myself to the point I say nothing of relevance. If I couldn't display the emotions of a child, what makes me think I can must up grown man feelings to set free to the world. Hope. Hope and the hard earned knowledge that to deny my feelings is to welcome the death of my soul.

But for the life of me I can't imagine existing through childhood any other way. The wolves would have finished me off for breakfast. Most of the defect of my character at one time helped save or preserve my life. I reached the tipping point with them and now they only serve to me me sicker and more hurtful.

If I had the chance to be a boy, this boy for an hour, I would like to set him free.

starve a feeling.

I"m a little bummed with myself. I know that that weight and food issue that I am have had since first grade and that recovery has to be loved based. I have to care for myself enough to make good choices and to pick foods that provide this clunky big old body with fuel. YOu will never be able to sustain a weight that you got to by "hating" it off. I've been really punishing the last two days and I have withheld food from myself. I don't like how really thin people look. If you see someone who had the gastric bypass done, they look like thinner, tired face version of themselves. But the moment I heard an actual number of pounds lost on Monday,, there was something that snapped and said "that isn't enough". Yesterday I ate a sandwich and a small bowl of cereal. I'm embarrassed talking about this.  I'm the worlds worse bulimic and if I could have ever figured out how to make myself throw up I would have started when I tried in 7th grade and 10th grade although I have hit laxatives  more than once in adult hood. I hate that I spend hours ever day thinking about what to eat, what I should not  eat, how much of it can be eating and how often. (oh and what is in my refrigerator) I am a straight up hard core pill user/abuser, it nearly took my life several time but I spent a good amount of time this week wondering what diet pills were available.  It's not about my weight, I may have fooled myself periodically thinking that it is but it is about my feelings and my refusal to treat me and my body as someone worth caring about.  I"m so NOT healthy today.  I never though I would be here afraid to eat again. I have my shrink appointment tomorrow so I have something to work on. Apologies for the illness sharing.

the war of bad messages and food as medication

Any ground won, is won only for the day. There is not one thing wrong with my life today that 4 doughnuts or a bag a fix will fix. I'm changing the way I eat in part because I want to treat myself like someone I like or even love. My overeating will always be an issue I have to stay alert for. When I reach for something in the fridge to make me feel better or different, I'm reaching for a lie. The lie being that anything outside my self has the ability to fill the void inside where only the love of others and a power greater than myself can fill. Food is a very poor substitute for love, affection , intimacy and it quit working for me in the 3rd grade. I am almost 45 so I have used a broken coping tool for way to long. What if the voice in my head is wrong. What if I am enough and what if people will really love me for me. I've toted around a sack of lies, communication and pain from never feeling like I am good enough to love, as long as I can. I just have to stay aware and monitor the chatter in my head so when I feel the impulse to over eat, I can stop myself in mid-thought and make a healthier choice for myself.

Efficacy or what does this really mean to me and my being.

Ok, so I had a neck doctor appointment this morning and had to weigh. I'm sure I could have avoided the numbers all together but  I asked what it was. I've lost 21 pounds on their scale. That's good enough in 5 or 6 weeks. I haven't starved although I have had to really fight the urge just to quiet eating and go faster.

He told in-depth about smoking ( insurance now pays them 12dollars) a patient to sell the patient on quitting.
I listened to his pitch but I didn't really comment. He was trying to play to the part in me that is suppose to want to do anything for another day or year on the planet. I didn't bother to tell him the history of me not being officially tied to my life on this plane. I would to love to be one of those folks scanning the health food store for anything potion , powder or inject-able to live a little longer. My goal, honestly is to scrap, punch and fight for 5 more minutes of life when the reaper comes. I hope I get to feel that desperation for more time, but it just doesn't connect to me now. I love my life, i love my friends, i love my recovery but I don't believe for a minute THIS is all there is. Maybe it is a reservation that I have about living in general. If don't I admit I want it , it won't hurt if it is taken away. I don't know, I will just keep living, changing and being willing to try on new ideas.

IT's not depression. I swear. Just feelings from 25 years ago sometime bubble up.

Has something ever came out of your mouth, words that you speak to someone and for no reason you feel like you are going to burst into tears? My dog has an ear infection and I put his medicine in his ear, someone in the house told me to medicine in his ear and I said I had and that "It will feel better tomorrow". I don't know if that phrase was something I heard as a child or something I needed to hear as a kid. Either way, I felt a wave of emotion when I said it and the tone or the vibration of saying released something. It was surprising but nice and a little scary. I'm not good with the mushy feelings. The tone and the words unlocked something for just a split second and I wasn't fast enough to get a good look inside.

Time marches on.

I have to tell a funny one on myself. In 2001 I got a letter in the mail from the county clerks office 6 months earlier when officers took me to have blood drawn at Good Shepard. I was in such a stupor in general when that letter came I didn't open it for days. When I finally opened it is said I was charged with driving under the influence. So from that point on, going to the mail box has been something I do with trepidation. So yesterday, I opened the box and the was a thin thin letter from Department of Public safety. Even though it was 11 and a half years later, I got that same feeling of "What the fuck is this and what have I done I have forgotten about" Sweating and woozy I ripped the envelope over picturing saying good by my friends. The letter said , "Mr. Gandy this is just a reminder that your license will expire in October on your birthday. The price for renewal is 25.00." I've had the same drivers photo is 1998 because I just renewed online. I look nothing like my photo with naturally dark hair and a look of optimism about the face that hasn't been seen since my early thirties. lol Seriously, I thought I was head to the big house, the joint, the big EZEE wait, that's New Orleans.