Finishing up "Anatomy of a Food Addiction" by Anne Katherine

Tonight is the last meeting for my support group, so the assignment was to read Chapters 8 and 9 in the book. Chapter 8 is called "Help!" and has some basic guidelines for choosing a therapist and finding other resources for outside help.

Chapter 9 is called "Dear Beloved". It is addressed to the loved one of a person who struggles with food addiction. It touches on what food addiction is like and also goes through a day of what it's like to be an overweight person, from the struggle to find something to wear in public to the fear of comments from strangers everywhere he or she goes. It really breaks everything down for easy understanding and includes sections on sabotage, recovery, weight loss and support. Though Mr. Salted is very supportive, he has never had a weight problem, so I think this section of the book will be really useful for him.

I have really been impressed by this book. Before joining this group, I had seen it around and never seriously thought about picking it up. It touches on every conceivable issue imaginable other than weight-loss surgery, but I think that contributes to its effectiveness, as weight-loss surgery is a whole other can of worms. When it comes to addiction and hard-wired, lifelong habits, the brain is the thing that has to be worked on before a lifestyle change can truly be embraced. I'm glad I read this book, but it is a little discouraging to have to admit that my food issues will be something I am forced to wrestle with for the rest of my life, fat or thin--just like any other recovering addict. I also fear cross-addiction, because if it feels good, I like it too much. That's just built into the organism.

The rest of the book deals with anorexia and bulimia, hitting bottom, relapse, abstinence, and concludes with a chapter on fullness. (Fullness as Katherine discusses it means full spiritually and emotionally, not just literal fullness with food.) She suggests that if a relapse occurs, it is simply because there is not enough support in place for the addict, and suggests ways to provide that.

I don't know if I want to continue going to groups, and I definitely don't think a twelve-step group is the answer for me. I'm not a good group person. It's hard for me to look everyone in the eye, and if I feel really bad--like I did on the anniversary of my friend's death--I'm not going to show up at a group session. I would have gone to an individual session, though--I guess there is less pressure to perform in a way--you can be down in your own self-absorbed pit of despair and not have to be polite or empathize with others. Sometimes, I'll just say it--it's a relief to not have to think about other people when you're working through hard stuff of your own.

Group

I am *really* glad I joined the support group. I liked the therapist, I liked the other women (no men joined), I liked the vibe, and I feel that I can learn a lot from everyone and do some valuable, necessary therapeutic work. I felt like I didn't stop talking the whole time; I was just so glad to be with people that spoke my language, so to speak, that I couldn't shut up. The dread I was feeling was totally unfounded, but that is something I do--worry too much ahead of time, and let's face it, anything that has to do with a group of people is a total crapshoot. We actually touched on previous group experiences, and many of them were negative in nature. It seemed to really correspond on the specific mix of personalities, size of the group, etc.

One thing that is going to be interesting for me is that this group includes people who have already had bariatric surgery as well as those who have not--about a 50/50 split, actually. I am especially looking forward to the insights of those who have already had a procedure, but continued to struggle with their weight. I am so afraid of "blowing it" myself due to not having my mind right. I think the importance of getting the mind healthy during before, during, and after this process absolutely cannot be overstated--and in my opinion, it is far too often overlooked, not only by medical professionals, but by people who gauge a woman's worth by her dress size.

The book the group is using is called "Anatomy of a Food Addiction: The Brain Chemistry of Overeating, An Effective Program to Overcome Compulsive Eating" by Anne Katherine, M. A. It is in its third edition and originally came out in 1991. It is a very interactive book that has many writing exercises, self-assessments, etc. I already like it because I feel it has a real-world, comprehensive approach. It classifies food as an addiction and serves to help find the roots of the addiction so that the behavior can then be modified.

The therapist talked a bit about food serving as a painkiller or sedative, how it is thought to be linked to the opioid receptors in the brain, boosting serotonin levels, and having a calming, soothing effect on those who use food in an addictive way. The genesis cannot be known for certain, but there is speculation that some people are just genetically more sensitive, having predisposition to addiction, depression, etc. In many cases, a food addiction begins as an attempt at self-care, usually quite early in life. The therapist posed the question: "If food is the bandage, what is the wound underneath?" The goal is essentially to determine what our individual wound or wounds are, also touching on what will take the place of food, so that we do not replace it with another self-destructive, addictive behavior.

I know this is going to be difficult, but I feel more hopeful than I have in a long time. I already know I am my own worst enemy (as are most people). I also know how hard I am willing to work and how far I have already come working through and against incredible obstacles. I am so lucky to have support and love in my life--leagues more than I have ever had. I know that without it, I would not even be attempting this journey.

Next week is my second wedding anniversary, and we are going away for a couple of days. When we come back, we plan to submit applications for private student loan funding, in the event we can qualify for some as a couple and I can pursue further education in the fall. I'm crossing my fingers!

Monty Python foot

This whole week has been tough mentally. After the nutritionist appointment Monday, I feel like a Monty Python foot came out of the sky and stomped in my general direction, but there were no hilarious British guys tumbling around afterward. I have had no energy and keep going back to sleep after I do the stuff I have to--shopping, cleaning house, etc. I thought I was getting a migraine for a couple of days, and the meds for that do make me sleepy.

I sound like a lazy hypochondriac to myself, which is frustrating. (Of course, I am currently unemployed, so there's my internal built-in guilt from that.) There never used to be too much wrong with me medically--of course there couldn't be, there was no money or insurance. Until I was 30, I paid for my glasses, dentist, and any other medical stuff I needed with a VISA card. When I was at university, I used the on-campus medical clinic a couple of times, and thank goodness for Planned Parenthood. (I will always donate money to them.) I was younger then and could fake my way through most of the time. When I think back, there were many things I should have gone to the doctor for that I just had to ride out with over-the-counter drugs and time. I've been paying for it--in more ways than one--now that I am getting older.

My first experience with therapy fifteen-plus years ago was paid for on my own when I still earned minimum wage with no benefits. I met the therapist at my then-place of business and we clicked. I ended up giving her a nominal cash fee every session and worked at her house to pay off the balance, pulling weeds, housesitting, taking care of her pets. She relocated, I still had a balance, but she never tried to collect it. I tried to contact her years later to give her some money, and she never responded. Wherever she is, I will always be grateful to her for her help.

That therapist hooked me up with a free support group during the time I was seeing her. It went on for five or six months and was facilitated by a couple of counselors. I'm not sure which shingle any of them hung out, but they did do assessments on each of us prior the the group work. The rest of the group work was just that--a group. Sometimes we did activities or assignments, but a lot of time we just talked and listened. I did some of my most important therapeutic work there, so my participation ultimately made a positive difference in my life.

Support groups have a really interesting dynamic. I am not sure a support group is going to benefit me while I go through the specific weight-loss surgery experience, but I may try one, at least online. In a support group, you really go into the trenches with yourself and other members. They are not only seeing everything about you that you hide from the rest of the world, but watching you actively deal with it. It's very intimate and can be quite powerful, but you don't necessarily want to run into those people at the grocery store. I stay in touch with most of the people I've ever known in my life that have mattered at all, but I haven't remained in contact with any of the women from that support group. Fifteen-plus years later, I still remember most of their names and faces--and stories--and will wonder, from time to time, what happened to them.

I'm glad there are online support groups now. I was in one for several years and met one of my best friends there. This friend knows me as well as anyone else in my life, but I have still never met her in person. We have been writing and calling each other for nine years now, and to this day there are some things I have to discuss that only she understands, and vice versa.

There is a real freedom in online support groups. The use of a pseudonym, for one, is really freeing. You can be completely honest and truthful and people have to judge you for your words alone, not the way you look. If something you say helps them, or they like you, it is the greatest compliment because they are judging by your heart alone. You could be Jabba the Hut with a keyboard, but that doesn't matter--your words do. That's my kind of world.