Operation Resume Day Three: I’m renaming my saboteur

Day three treat: scented hand soap

I finished day three with squeaky clean bright lines. Three days of food sobriety. And it feels good.

And oh boy howdy, was my saboteur howling at night. After dinner, I was home (a rarity for me — more often than not, I have a presentation booked for after dinner). 

The whole night, this nagging, complaining, never-letting-up voice was telling me it had to eat. Right now. Arrrgh.

And that got me thinking. I never know what to call that voice in my head that tells me to eat. “Saboteur” feels elegant and fancy-schmancy French, and my voice is more evil than that. "Sabby" sounds cute. “Addictive voice” feels abstract and not quite real. 

That voice in my head is not elegant or French or cute or abstract. It’s loud and persistent and nagging.

So I’m renaming it, using a brilliant idea suggested on the sober blog tiredofthinkingaboutdrinking.com. 

Belle Robertson, creator of that blog, calls her addictive voice ...  “Wolfie.” To me, that is perfect. Not only because it matches the nasty, loud side of that voice but because of the inspiring Cherokee legend that inspired it. 

Here’s a great version of the legend from the website of Dean Deyeong: 

“An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life:

‘A fight is going on inside me,’ he said to the boy.

‘It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.’

He continued, ‘The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you–and inside every other person, too.’

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: ‘Which wolf will win?’

The old Cherokee simply replied, ‘The one you feed.’”

[You can read Dean Deyeong’s version HERE ]

That’s exactly what my brain is when it’s in full food-addiction mode. It’s an angry, evil wolf. And it’s fighting the warm, nurturing side of me. I have to avoid feeding the angry wolfie — I have to avoid focusing on the thoughts it give me. I instead need to nurture and cherish the loving, kind, healthy, self-caring, non-addicitive wolf.

So I’m following Belle’s suggestion and calling my addictive brain “Wolfie.”

[You can find her blog at tiredofthinkingaboutdrinking.com . You can even get one of her badass “FU Wolfie” bracelets. (I have no affiliation with her, just love her ideas).]