Tug-O-War

Hello, my name is Anna. And, I am a compulsive overeater.

9:03PM – I'm hungry. At least, I think I am hungry. As a compulsive eater, I can't always decipher my body's true needs in conjunction with my mind's psychological trickery. At times, my brain becomes trapped, a slimy Lochnest beast, screeching and pawing from the depths of my bottomless pit of a belly - greedy and noisy and totally insatiable.

Within a matter of seconds, my body and mind begin a serious game of tug-o-war – each side fighting to be the strongest to yank the rope in a valiant attempt to make a seemingly simple decision: To eat or not to eat. Yes, that IS the question. But, for a compulsive eater, it's not always so simple. I am not able, sometimes, to decipher when eating food will satisfy appropriately or trigger a binge. Depending on the quantity of food consumed (even normal, healthy portions) or a specific type of food (or certain food groups), I may be risking an eating binge. Sometimes, making even the “simplest” of food decisions has the potential to put me in a frightful state, literally activating my fight or flight response. My mind erupts in a Civil War. My heart begins to race and my jaw tightens as I grind my teeth. Unconsciously, I chew the insides of my mouth, ripping and tearing the soft pink edges of my tongue. I have difficulty concentrating as I frantically try to distract myself (“Think, think, THINK!”) and potentially dispel the powerful urge to find food immediately.

Photo Credit: The Daily Caller

But, perhaps I really AM hungry? I notice a slight gnawing feeling in my belly and hear a quiet rumble. Not giving in to a craving is one thing, but depriving my body is another. When was the last time I ate? Did I eat too little for dinner? How about that piece of fruit I had an hour ago? My belly monster should not be shouting this loud. It's cries reverberating within my skull like echoes bouncing throughout a drafty, cavernous cathedral. No brain, no focus. I'm a ravenous Scarecrow from the Wizard of freaking Oz – if I only had a brain...

Sane thoughts do pop up, here and there, as I try one last attempt to quiet the belly beast. “It's late, you'll be going to bed in a couple of hours. You can hold out at least that long, right?” I run through a mental list. Try meditating? (Not again...) Pray? (*sigh*) Write? (I am writing, damn it.) Go for a walk, breath in the fresh air? (Hells no. It's colder than a packet of frozen peas outside!)

I think I really am hungry.

The soldiers slowly begin to ceasefire as my mind begins to contemplate food options. My brain quickly calculates just what and how much I should eat - it is nearing bedtime, after all. It's important for me to consider this carefully. It's easy to overindulge after the stress-filled battle my mind has just put me through. For normal eaters and overeaters alike, stress often activates the desire to eat. When we eat, we automatically take deeper, more satisfying breaths. Take note of that the next time you eat in an anxious state. It's no wonder so many people often feel physically calmer after a meal.

This whole scenario doesn't last for more than 5-10 minutes. On other days, it may be longer depending on how many distraction tactics I can talk myself into doing. Regardless, it complicates my food decisions - nearly every single one.

In our modern culture, how many times a day are we faced with food related decisions? The office potluck, our friend's birthday party, weekly grocery shopping, and, of course, the ultimate food holiday coming up right around the corner, Thanksgiving. Do you feel as though your hunger cues get spun up like a cycle of whirling laundry, twirling until the feelings blur together, and you can't clearly detect want over need?

Photo Credit: Silver Circle Art Center

Though I still continue to feel this way sometimes (especially as night falls...), I am actively training my mind and body to find deeper alignment so I can better understand my feelings towards food and make decisions out of love for myself and the recovery I have dedicated myself to. I want to turn my mental battles into a field of daisy's and whispering winds – gimme the unicorns and fluffy pick clouds. Is that too much to ask?