When some people get anxious, they don’t eat. It seems that their hunger dissipates when their stress loads increase. They are the ones whose adrenaline goes on overload. They don’t sit still, they fidget, fuss, and burn calories. They lose weight in response to high stress. Not me.
Somewhere along the line I learned that food was the solution to everything. When my body is anxious, my default mode is to feed it. The more anxiety I feel, the more I crave comfort food: pudding, milkshakes, cookies, macaroni and cheese, burritos, milk chocolate. I find myself wandering into the kitchen and staring into the cupboards looking for something to take the edge off. I am looking for a drug.
But nothing external will cure my anxiety. I know that now. So today, I tend to find myself staring in the cupboards. Hopeful, but acutely aware that food is an empty solution to stress. Eating comfort food does not comfort, it only makes me feel ill and sluggish. There is no cure in comfort food, only delayed experience, only anxiety accumulated in the body as discomfort and dis-ease.
What to do instead? Write, talk, walk, move, dance, cry… let myself have the emotion. I have accepted the fact that uncomfortable emotion will not go away immediately. I am currently facing professional and family based anxieties that I don’t want it to disappear. I know the situations will eventually resolve themselves and be less anxiety producing. It is my job to attend to them, not run away, not numb away, but to face what is here. To quote the old AA maxim: “to do the footwork and let go of the outcome.”
What to do? I make the phone calls. I do some work. I take a break. I do some yoga, take a walk, or meditate. Then I go back to the work. I talk to the person(s) who I am anxious to talk to. I bookend anxiety-inducing actions with contact with people that I know love and care for me. I ask questions and find support from friends and family.
As I repeat this process, I learn that my anxiety won’t kill me. I learn that it comes and goes of its own timing. Fear is a useful emotion. It gives me information about my place in the world. I walk through it. I walk into the face of my biggest fear and discover… myself on the other side whole and intact. I take a deep breath. And each time I repeat this process I learn that I can do it without comfort food or other drugs.
I’ve been working on this for years. I am not fixed. Confronted as I am today with big anxieties I still want to turn to comfort food. The path of least resistance would be to the cupboard for brownies or cupcakes. But today I choose to write and do my work. My breath feels easier now. And I can pick up the phone and make the next phone call. My world is being created by the work I do. When I don’t run or numb away, I create my world in the image I want it to be.
6/6/10
On Reading and Eating
I’ve been reading Geneen Roth’s book, Women Food and God. I think she is brilliant. She certainly describes much of my own experience around life and food. I decided to try living strictly by GR’s rule number 3 this week: Eat without distractions. Distractions include: radio, television, newspapers, books, intense or anxiety-producing conversations, and music.
For me this meant eating without newspapers or books. I long ago turned off the radio, when my young son complained about the violent news. I don’t listen to music or watch TV while I eat. But I do read the newspaper with breakfast and a book with lunch. Last week, I set the reading materials aside when I was eating.
Or at least I tried to. A couple of times I found myself mindlessly nibbling on popcorn and cherries that were on the table when I sat down to read. I had food in my mouth without making a conscious choice to eat. When I realized what I was up to, I had to make the choice to either eat or read. It was struggle. I decided to eat the popcorn but I set aside the cherries for the book.
Just to make it especially difficult, I was in the middle of an addictive novel (Steig Larsson’s The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.) It was really hard not to pick it up during lunch. I was jonesing to get back to my story all day. So I ate less at lunch, because I wanted to read.
What did I learn from the experience? It felt like an imposed rule. It felt like a diet. I romanticized the outcome. I found myself responding to the rule in the same way I respond to any diet rule, with unrealistic hopes followed resentments when I am not miraculously changed by the rule.
At the beginning of the week I was more present with my food. I paid attention to every bite. But that only lasted for a few days. I ate with less pleasure that I eat when I am reading with my meal. Setting aside the book reduced the pleasure of the meal.
I missed reading with my meals. I missed the newspaper. I won’t continue this particular practice. It felt contrived and not useful. I agree with her that we are better off not eating in front of the television. That particular black hole sucks our presence of mind away. But I don’t experience the same disengagement from life by reading or listening to music.
And I know, that if the rule brings up resentment, if it makes me feel like I am on a diet, I am very likely to rebel. It is a set up to eat more than I want to, just for the sake of it.
This morning I deliciously indulged in the Sunday paper while I ate my bowl of fruit and yogurt. Yum! I fully appreciated the small pleasure of reading and eating. And to be aware of the pleasure is a gift, thanks Geneen.
For me this meant eating without newspapers or books. I long ago turned off the radio, when my young son complained about the violent news. I don’t listen to music or watch TV while I eat. But I do read the newspaper with breakfast and a book with lunch. Last week, I set the reading materials aside when I was eating.
Or at least I tried to. A couple of times I found myself mindlessly nibbling on popcorn and cherries that were on the table when I sat down to read. I had food in my mouth without making a conscious choice to eat. When I realized what I was up to, I had to make the choice to either eat or read. It was struggle. I decided to eat the popcorn but I set aside the cherries for the book.
Just to make it especially difficult, I was in the middle of an addictive novel (Steig Larsson’s The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.) It was really hard not to pick it up during lunch. I was jonesing to get back to my story all day. So I ate less at lunch, because I wanted to read.
What did I learn from the experience? It felt like an imposed rule. It felt like a diet. I romanticized the outcome. I found myself responding to the rule in the same way I respond to any diet rule, with unrealistic hopes followed resentments when I am not miraculously changed by the rule.
At the beginning of the week I was more present with my food. I paid attention to every bite. But that only lasted for a few days. I ate with less pleasure that I eat when I am reading with my meal. Setting aside the book reduced the pleasure of the meal.
I missed reading with my meals. I missed the newspaper. I won’t continue this particular practice. It felt contrived and not useful. I agree with her that we are better off not eating in front of the television. That particular black hole sucks our presence of mind away. But I don’t experience the same disengagement from life by reading or listening to music.
And I know, that if the rule brings up resentment, if it makes me feel like I am on a diet, I am very likely to rebel. It is a set up to eat more than I want to, just for the sake of it.
This morning I deliciously indulged in the Sunday paper while I ate my bowl of fruit and yogurt. Yum! I fully appreciated the small pleasure of reading and eating. And to be aware of the pleasure is a gift, thanks Geneen.
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