Day 13: Moments to Remember -- Not the Good Ones

In Catherine Gray's brilliant new book The Unexpected Joy of Being Sober, she notes that in her first days of sobriety, she felt like Dory in that animated film, Finding Nemo. Remember that little blue fish? She's always forgetting who she is and what's she's doing? 

Gray describes how in her first 30 days, she felt like Dory. She was constantly forgetting WHY she was doing the sober thing. WHY she had given up drinking. She had to keep replaying in her mind the worst moments from her drinking life.

I often feel that way too, in my journey to stop overeating.

This week, I had a really bad 1-2-3 punch of emotional experiences. Three completely different events happened, each of which sent me emotionally into a tailspin. At each of those moments, I simply forgot why I had given up overeating. And I ate.

So, in the spirit of Catherine Gray, here are most of my worst moments. These are the moments I need to replay in my mind to get me to remember why I am doing this healthy eating thing:

—      Once, when I was in the grip of my sugar addiction and starting to binge because of food restriction, someone gave me some cookies to take home after an event. I told myself I’d give them to my husband, wrapped them up in napkins and put them in the backseat of my car. Driving home, I got obsessed about them. Could NOT stop thinking about them. Finally found myself reaching behind to the backseat to get them … while driving down a busy highway. Yes, I could easily have gotten myself into a terrible crash, just for the sake of reaching cookies in the backseat.

—      I hit my heaviest weight while finishing my Ph.D. Dissertation. I was so fat and miserable that I didn’t permit many photographs on my graduation day, the one day in my life where I got to wear actual Ph.D. robes with the velvet stripes on the sleeves. As a result, I have virtually no photographs from the time when I hit one of the major achievements of my life.

—      Someone sent me photographs of myself when I was performing Jackie Kennedy at a venue in Maryland. It was a great achievement because the organization had flown me in specifically for this event. But it was clear in the photos that the costume did not fit me. The pink skirt was stretched tightly across my bulging hips. Knowing how visibly obvious it was to the audience that the suit did not fit (and that I was waaayyy bigger than the real Jackie) was mortifying. I still think of that photo and cringe.

—      After I’d been doing Bright Line Eating for a while, I found myself binging whenever I broke my lines. This was upsetting because I’d never been a binger before. And because my family thought I was so great for giving up sugar. I began resorting to addict-style tricks like

o   Hiding the plastic wrappers and bakery boxes in my car and throwing them away at gas stations so my husband wouldn’t see them

o   Driving out at night to buy junk food because there was none in the house, the way an alcoholic might drive out at night to get booze.

o   Keeping treats in my car so that I wouldn't overeat them (and my husband wouldn't see them), then sneaking out early in the morning or late at night to retrieve them

o   Coming home at night and sitting in my car in the driveway, stuffing cookies in my face so that I could get as much sugar in me before going inside.

—      Seeing my father become increasingly vegetable-like, unable to stand or walk by himself, in part because he refused to give up his existing eating habits when he developed Parkinson’s disease. He now has brain dementia, brought on in large part by eating sugary and processed foods and refusing to exercise. Knowing that I have a family history of Alzheimer’s and other brain diseases, I have got to get my food addiction under control.

Whew. These are embarrassing moments to revisit. But I think they are just as important as the vision in my head of the "happy, thin and free" me. In fact, in the moment, when the chips are down and the food is staring me in the fact, it might be more important to remember why I don't overeat anymore than to remember why I do eat healthfully.

I say no to all these moments.

Day Six: Remove the Temptation

I’m
 remembering how fragile the early days of a resume on my food plan is.

The voice in my head (the one that thinks I need to eat sugar and flour the way I need oxygen) is really really LOUD. It’s such a struggle to remind myself that that voice is not the real me. That’s just my addictive brain, thinking it’s doing what’s best for me.

I’m realizing that in these early days, the most important thing I can do is to remove temptation. And by “remove temptation,” I don’t mean just get things with sugar and flour out of the house. Although that’s important. My poor husband has no goodies for himself because I’ve been relentless in getting rid of them.

What I mean by “remove temptation” is to be ruthless. When it’s early and you’re fragile, you need to smooth the way before yourself. That means, yes, get rid of sugar and flour in the house. It also means:

— Don’t go out to restaurants for meals. Not forever, but for sure for now. Eating in restaurants takes extra work and has extra risks. There will be plenty of time to eat in restaurants when your plan is more solid.

— If at all possible, don’t go to events where food is the main focus. Your book club’s Like Water for Chocolate tasting event? That would be a no. But also your family’s trip to the baseball game, if baseball games used to be all about the food for you. Or whatever. Of course, some events you can’t skip, so for those make a really strong plan, commit to it, and leave early if you need to.

— Don’t make treats for your daughter’s soccer team meet or your nephew’s birthday. Ask someone else to pick up the dessert.

— Don’t read novels that are heavily food-focused

— Don’t decide to update your family cookbook, the one with your grandmother’s recipes for holiday treats. (Guilty).

For some unbeknownst reason, I decided that this week would be the perfect week to start typing recipes up for a revision to my family’s book of favorite recipes. It hasn’t been updated in 18 years, and two of my nieces just moved into places of their own, so the time is right. Doing it now (early September) means it’ll be done in time to be printed for Christmas.

But man, do recipes stir up emotions! I spent two hours yesterday typing up recipes for Granny’s Kolacky and my mother’s famous Thanksgiving turkey and my aunt’s wonderful lemon bars.

Not only did it steep me in happy memories of these wonderful women, who I miss so much. It also filled me with memories of these wonderful foods, prepared with such love and served at happy occasions. It reminded me of how I started using food to express love.

So no, not a good decision. But a good reminder that when you’re early in the game, you need to be vigilant about removing any and all temptation. No more cookbook updating for me until I’ve got a bit more momentum on this journey.

How I am surviving a BLE Memorial Day

BLE resume day four completed. Treat to self for 4 clean days: Flavored decaf coffee K-cups

Holidays have been a major stumbling block for me on my Bright Line Eating Journey. So many of them focus on food, food, food.

The struggle to resume BLE has taught me any things, but more than anything it’s taught me that I must enjoy a holiday without eating off my food plan. And that it is perfectly possible to have a great time without eating.

So how am I celebrating one of the most iconic holiday weekends in the U.S. -- a holiday that launches not just summer but also tends to be all about barbecues and picnics?

Keep my commitment to BLE vividly in mind

When I go to a party, it’s super-easy to have thoughts like, “well, it’s a holiday” or “I can just start over tomorrow.” So I make a point of reminding myself before I leave the house — and keep in mind vividly while I am at the event — that I am doing BLE. And why I am doing it. BLE is my top priority.

Make a plan ahead of time

I plan what I am going to eat and how much, as I would do any day. I have plenty of options: I can eat before leaving home. I can call the host and ask exactly what will be served and write down a meal plan. I can bring my scale (few will notice and no one will care). I can bring a big BLE-friendly salad or fruit or veggie tray to share with everyone and measure my meal from that. I know what works for me, I make a plan and I stick to it.

Don’t go in alone

If it was my first Memorial Day, I'd bring a BLE friend with me, if possible. Or maybe just someone who eats healthfully and doesn’t overindulge. I can always bookend the occasion on social media — knowing I've promised to check in after the event is over reminds me to not let my promise go.

Be prepared that some people will not understand

Even my most understanding friends sometimes do things unintentionally that trigger me. They will say “helpful” things like, “Can’t you have just one?” or "You're on a diet, on a holiday?" This doesn’t mean they don’t love me or want me to be happy. It just means they are human. Everyone gets to live their own life their own way, and no one understands everyone else’s life.

Be firm

“No” is a complete sentence. So is “no thank you.” So is "I'm full." Any of these is all I need to say. I don’t need to explain myself.

Plan a treat for afterwards

I have in mind something to reward myself with once I complete the event successfully. I'll read a trashy magazine, pick up some flowers on the way home, have a cup of that special tea I love, take a bath with my favorite bath oil. Knowing there is a reward for keeping my bright lines makes me more likely to keep them.

Be prepared to distract yourself

If the going gets tough, I can always do something. Talk to the stranger who is sitting alone. Help do the dishes or clean up used plates. Take a walk. Play I Spy with the kids. Go to the bathroom and do some breathing exercises.

Have an exit strategy

I always have a plan in place for exiting if needed. I start to feel overwhelmed, I have permission to leave. I’ll arrive separately from my husband so we each have a car. Or I can take an Uber home. I can set an allotted “time to go”, so I know exactly how long I’ll be there. I am not required to stay at an event that is causing me stress.

Plans like these are key in surviving holidays with my bright lines squeaky clean.

[Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Bright Line Eating or Susan Peirce Thompson.]

Saying No: How to Implement One of the Most Powerful BLE Tools

The longer that I do Bright Line Eating, the more I realize how critical it is for me to reduce the "overwelm" in my life.

Getting enough sleep, meditating, those are all part of it. So is taking walks in nature and spending time with my family.

Reducing overwhelm helps me maintain peace and balance in my life. The more peace and balance, the less likely I am to feel the stress and exhaustion triggers that lead me to break my bright lines.

But even more than sleep and meditating and walking outdoors, learning to say no has been the biggest help. By far the biggest help.

I'm a huge people pleaser, so it is painful for me to say no. For a long time, I regularly said no without thinking, rather than risk someone not liking me or feeling hurt.

I ended up hurting myself because I was overcommitted, stressed, and resentful.

So I've begun actively teaching myself how to say no.

One of the best resources I've ever found for doing this is an e-Book by Christy Wright called "25 Ways to Protect Your Time."

Christy includes great, practical suggestions for how to turn down social invitations ("What a fun event. I normally would love something like that, but I'm already overcommitted. Thanks for thinking of me.") or volunteer work ("That sounds great. We actually have several organizations we volunteer for already, so we can't add anything new right now. Best of luck though."

(I have no official connection to Christy and don't get anything in return for this. I just love her stuff).

What I love is that her suggestions are clear and unambiguous, but also kind. You don't have to use white lies, but you also don't have to be rude or rejecting.

Disclaimer: This site is not officially affiliated with Bright Line Eating or Susan Peirce Thompson. The opinions expressed here are entirely my own.

Best Motivator There Is

Last week, after a presentation of Eleanor Roosevelt, I was talking with audience members when a very kind man, a member of the program organizing committee, came up with a big slice of cake and whipped cream for me.

He was so happy to be helpful to me and I was appreciative of the kind thought. But .... arrrgh. I had to say no. I gave my usual effusive praise — that looks beautiful and it’s so thoughtful of you! But I don’t eat sugar.

It always bothers me when people are being so kind and want so much to make me happy, when I have to turn them down (I do because my life depends on it, but arrrgh, it still hurts).

To turn it around in my mind, I have started telling myself that the best thing I can do, if I really want to make my own little mark on the obesity epidemic, is to be a good role model.

The more people see people turning down sugary foods, saying no to dessert, eating vegetables, the more likely these things are to become normalized. We NEED more people saying no to angel food cake.

That’s the only way we can get to a place where people really don’t assume everyone needs or wants to eat cake.

Being a good model in how I eat is the best motivation to keep eating well.

[Disclaimer: This blog is not affiliated with or endorsed by Bright Line Eating Solutions or Susan Peirce Thompson. The opinions expressed here are entirely my own.]

7 Things You Should Never Say to a Bright Line Eater

I came across an article similar to this by a woman who doesn't drink, giving things you should never say to an alcoholic. So here's my version, revised for a non-sugar/non-flour eater:

1.    “Come on, live a little!” I am. I do. I love life and enjoy it all the time. Sugar isn’t the only way to enjoy life.

2.    “How about just a little piece?” Would you ask an alcoholic to have just a “little” whiskey? Or how about a heroin addict to just shoot up a “little”?

3.    “I tried that once and failed. We’ll see how long this lasts for you.” Sugar is a food, not a measure of moral superiority. I’m not thinking I’m better than you. I just don't want to eat.

4.    “Don’t you feel like you’re missing out?” If I felt like I was missing out, I’d have some. Plus, you tell me stories about how tired you are and how you can’t fit into your clothes and your doctor thinks you’re prediabetic. That doesn’t sound like much fun, so I’ll pass.

5.    “I don’t eat this much usually! Really!” You don’t have justify your eating to me just because I’m not.

6.    “But really, why don’t you have some? She made it special. Just to be kind.” You can keep asking but the answer will always be no. I’m just going to get annoyed if you keep asking. Kindness doesn’t necessitate breaking my bright lines.

7.    “But it’s a special occasion!” Just because I’m not eating doesn’t mean I'm not enjoying the occasion and feeling like it's special. I'm having a great time.

Disclaimer: This blog and I are not officially affiliated with Bright Line Eating or Susan Peirce Thompson. The opinions expressed here are entirely my own.