Story Time: Life Seen Through an Empty Wrapper

It’s late at night and I’m sitting on my patio, looking at the moon, which is bright and very high. And the stars shimmering on the nearby pond. I should go inside and get some sleep. But before I do, I’m sitting here, finishing my tea and thinking. I’m thinking about you.

Yes, you. The one who is sitting on your patio, or in your living room, or at your kitchen table right now. Staring at an empty wrapper of something you just ate. Something you swore you would not eat today.

It’s not like you don’t know better. You know exactly what and how much you need to eat in order to lose your excess weight and free yourself from the demons of overweight and food obsession. Those demons you have been battling for years. You finally found a plan that works, and it worked beautifully. For a while.

Then somehow it didn’t work any more. You had an unusually stressful time at work. Or someone you dearly love passed away. Or it was a really, really, very special occasion. You just really wanted to celebrate or you just really needed to take the edge off.

Whatever it was, you decided to give yourself a little pass. Just for this once. You would go back to the plan right away, but on this one occasion you just really needed something.

So you had a little bit. And you went right back to the plan again.

Except that now the wolfie voice was awake again and whispering in your ear. You didn't know it was awake, but it was.

So in a short while, maybe a few days or maybe even a few weeks, you had a little more to eat off your plan. A bite here, a bit more there.

But really, still, you were going to go back to the plan, no question. But it would be tomorrow.

And then another tomorrow came and it happened again. You started the day with the best intentions but things happened and well, by evening you had veered off course again.

And then it happened again. What was going on? What was wrong with you? Why couldn’t you just resume successfully? You did it so well for a long time. For weeks and weeks, you were eating exactly according to plan and it wasn’t that hard. Why is it so hard now? Can’t you just Stop. Picking. Up. The. Food.

And maybe you even decided you needed to hide it. Can’t let anyone know you're eating uncontrollably again, after they have seen you do so well for so long. Maybe you hid a stash of goodies in the garage, or in an upper cabinet, or in your car, out of easy access. But in your heart, you know there's a good chance you'll go and get some, when the wolf voice is calling too loudly.

Maybe there are empty wrappers hidden in your car right now, so your spouse or your kids won’t know how much you’ve been eating in secret. Maybe you have stuffed wrappers into the bottom of your kitchen garbage can, so no one will find them.

And now, it's practically a daily thing. Every day, it’s the same. You wake up and vow to yourself that this is it. Today is the day you will resume your eating plan. For real this time. There is no way you are going to revert to old eating patterns. Not today.

But then life happens and you come home tired and it just feels like too much. So again you eat and now there’s an empty wrapper on the table.

You are not alone. I have been there. Dozens, hundreds, thousands have shared this experience.

This is what happens when wolfie takes over your brain. And it is absolutely, completely and unquestionably possible for you to resume successfully.

I want you to know that. I am sitting here right now because it was possible for me. And I never thought I'd be able to resume. If I can do it, and thousands of others can do it, why not you?

One way to start is by putting down the food right now.

Throw away that wrapper. Do the next right thing. Then do the next right thing. And then the next right thing. Keep doing the next right thing until you get where you want to go.

I need sleep, not food

Operation Resume day 13 completed. Treat for another bright squeaky clean day: Pedicure

It was a pretty normal work day for me yesterday. Usual driving, usual kind of work. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But oh my word. The food thoughts? Nuts. I was thinking about food just 2 hours after breakfast. All morning I was looking at the clock for lunch hour. When I finished a job at 3 p.m. and got in my car, all I could think about was eating.

The wolfie voice in my brain immediately jumped in, “You’re hungry, you should have a little something or you won’t make it till 5 p.m.” And then, “Maybe instead of eating your packed dinner, you should stop somewhere for a special dinner.”

Then the voice really got nasty: “Why don’t you just order some bread with dinner, how much can one piece of bread hurt?” “It’s been a hard day, you deserve a normal-sized meal. Don’t worry about measuring or even eye-balling.” “Hey, there’s an Italian place. Go there for dinner!”

Arrrrrrggggh. What in the world? Suddenly I was back in the world of food-thought madness, circling in my brain like a maniac. Every other thought was about what I was going to eat, how much, how soon. What was going on?

I stopped for a cup of decaf coffee and sat down to just gaze outthe window and watch my thoughts.

And gradually, it was clear. Crystal clear. I was tired. I woke up at 5 a.m. and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I finally just got up and went on with my day.

And now that sneaky little wolfie addictive brain was using my tiredness as an excuse to start playing all the old tapes in my brain, sending the same messages that have messed me up in the past.

But this time, I know better. I know that very time I give in to Wolfie, Wolfie gets stronger, while I lose my momentum, do a U-turn and have to go through the struggle-to-resume dance.

And I know that every time I stick to my plan, I get stronger. Every time I refuse to give in, I build resilience. I develop the tools I need and get more and more confidence that I can do this.

So I went to bed early last night. Another round to me, Wolfie. Ha! Take that.

Sneaky ways my brain tries to get me to eat

I had to travel today. A one-day in-and-out visit from my home near Chicago to a small city two states away. Flying there required transferring planes in Detroit. The Detroit airport is huge and I once missed a flight there (when I couldn’t race from one gate to the next in time), so it always stresses me out going there. I was nervous already when I woke up this morning. It didn’t help that I had to drive to O’Hare Airport during early rush hour Chicago traffic.

When I arrived at O’Hare Airport, I was informed that the first leg of my flight was delayed. Delayed an hour. Grrooaaann.

That meant I wouldn’t arrive in Detroit in time to get to the gate for my second flight. Grroooaannn again.

No worries, the gate agent told me. They had transferred me to a different flight for the first leg of my trip. Same departure time as my original flight.  Just one hitch — it was leaving from Midway Airport not O’Hare. Midway is about 45 minutes away. They’d give me a cab voucher.

I raced outside, grabbed a cab and begged the driver to get me to Midway as fast as possible. Go, go, go. The driver raced down there, while I hyperventilated in the back.

I’m making a short story long, but the point is this — it was a stressful morning. Very stressful.

And for the first time, I really noticed how all that stress immediately set my addictive brain in action.

No, more than that. Actually, I think my addictive brain was thrilled. Here was the perfect excuse to get me to eat. I was stressed! What could be better?! Bring it on! The more stress, the more likely she is to break!

My addictive brain just thrives on stress. It loooooves it when I’m stressed.

No wonder I immediately was thinking about food, where I could go for a treat, what airport food I’d eat, where I’d go for dinner tonight as a reward for all this stress. I was thinking about food, rather than thinking about how to keep myself calm and at peace.

No wonder my brain tells me it’s a good idea to start doing laundry at 10 p.m. Or to start cooking something when I’ve only got 20 minutes till I need to leave the house.

My addictive brain has a lot to gain when I work myself up into a stressed condition.

And, to get my food thing under control, I can’t let get myself get caught up in the stress cycle. I just have to do the best I can, and then release the results.

This isn’t an easy process, but at least I know what tricks that little devil is up to. And that’s the first step to getting him to stop.

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).]