Saboteur-Perfectionism,

Perfectionism can sabotage compulsive overeaters very quickly. As I read the posts of other bandsters I can see people sabotaging themselves, beating themselves up, setting themselves up for failure, because they were less than perfect in their adherance to a food protocol. Many bandsters are able to relax with their bands and trust the bands. But not those going through band or bandster hell--that time when their bands have not yet been filled enough to create the restriction they need, and they're trying desperately to maintain the food protocol and lose weight using all the tricks that never worked for them in the past--at least not for long.

I've been losing weight while I wait for my first fill on August 11, but it's slowed way down. I told myself that it was good enough not to gain during this time. I've also given myself the accountability of writing in this blog every night and I think that really helps. I'm very aware of the trap of perfectionism and am trying to avoid it.

There are some posts from people in bandster hell that are almost despairing. They were so excited by the weight loss they experienced while on the liquid portion of the food protocol and are now utterly dismayed that as their eating returned to normal their weight loss has stopped. I particularly feel sorry for those who've had several fills and are not yet experiencing restriction.

I also see the addiction to weighing every day on the scale and how a normal variation in weight that causes a temporary small gain can sabotage them. Most times its just water weight from PMS or traveling in a car, but it sends them into a tizzy.

One bandster unexpectedly reached goal when her Dr. looked at her and told her to not pay attention to the BMI guidelines. She hadn't lost in a couple of months and was despairing of reaching a healthy BMI. Fortunately her Dr. looked at her and not at the charts. The woman is 175 lbs but wears a size 8 or 10. She has to be a beanpole and very tall or very muscular to weigh that much and wear that small a size. Or maybe she has thick legs. But she went from a size 26 to a size 8 and she was beating herself up for not being able to lose the last 7 or 8 lbs to reach a "normal" BMI.

Various people were posting about their BMI's (Body Mass Index) and whether they wanted to go for the "normal" BMI or the BMI Weight Watchers has said is the "healthiest." Thank God my Dr. never mentioned my BMI. He just eyeballed me and said, "Based on your age and your height you probably ought to go for about 170 lbs." I was so relieved. That'll put me in a size 14 or 12 which I am perfectly happy to wear. I feel great at that weight and look fine. I have no desire to be skinny.

Trying to look perfect was what got me started dieting when I wasn't even fat and led to the cycle of binge/purge(diet) that screwed up my metabolism and got me fat in the first place. Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt.

There was only ever one human being that did life perfectly and I'm not he. I'm me. And I'm loved for the Cheri I've been, the Cheri I'm becoming, and the Cheri I will be when all my warts and peccadillos and struggles aren't eliminated, but are transformed into something beautiful when he comes for me. None of this nonsense about food and weight and being perfect is going to amount to a hill of beans when he gathers me up in his arms and holds me and calls me his precious child.

Creating Intimacy

Intimacy. I was at a concert tonight where Derrell Evans (the singer/songwriter who wrote Trading My Sorrows) performed at my church. He spoke and sang about intimacy--how God desires intimacy with us. I spoke in an earlier blog about how everyone wants to be known. We want someone to know us with the layers peeled away--the real us. That's intimacy.

That's something we compulsive overeaters are not very good at. There are those in the field of psychiatry who have speculated that we surround ourselves with layers of fat in order to protect ourselves from intimacy--especially those who've been abused. Don't know if that's true, but I do think that food, like any addiction, can make real intimacy difficult. We do our best to keep the secret of how deep that addiction runs. There's a saying in recovery groups: We are only as sick as our secrets. How can another person truly know us if they don't know our addiction? How can we fully contribute to a relationship when so much time is spent protecting our secret?

I've heard people confess that they go from one fast food place to another ordering food at several places so that the order takers won't catch on that they're ordering so much food just for themselves. Others tell how they buy food and eat in their cars so their families won't know how much they're eating. Bulimia, whether using laxatives, throwing up, or excercise, is a way of hiding the compulsive overeating by not layering with fat. I have it on good authority that pizza is the hardest and worst food to throw up, while ice cream is the best because it tastes the same coming up as going down. One girl kept a bucket in her closet for throwing up so her family wouldn't suspect anything the way they would if she threw up in the toilet. We are all so good at hiding and stashing and sneaking food.

Combine secrets with low self-esteem and you've got a perfect recipe for getting involved with emotionally unavailable and even abusive people. Compulsive overeaters frequently stay in bad relationships because they don't believe anyone else would want to be with them. They're with people who are no more capable of receiving intimacy than we are of giving it.

So, yes, we have issues with intimacy. The rules in any dysfunctional family or relationship are: Don't talk(tell); Don't trust; and Don't feel. Keep the secret, trust no one with the peeled away version of yourself; and numb yourself (with the substance of your choice) so you don't have to feel.

So, how do we break the pattern of avoiding intimacy that we experience with God, with significant others, and with friends? In fact, food and other drugs put us in such a dissociative state that we may not even know, or experience intimacy, with ourselves.

First of all, I think God himself breaks through those barriers through the power of his Spirit and the sacrifice of his Son. We have to believe that and receive it. Nevertheless, we are going to have to accept help from other people--a 12 step sponsor and often a trained professional counselor--and possibly anti-depressants to help us get started on breaking the cycle. God generally works through human hands.

The counselor and/or a 12 step sponsor may be the first person we genuinely experience intimacy with as we begin to tell our secrets. We may find other safe people to practice intimacy with (like in 12 step groups) before we're able to share with those closest to us. And family are not always the safest recipients of our secrets. If they are not willing to work on their own intimacy issues, they may be people to whom we only go so far in revealing ourselves.

Working the steps takes us through the steps of intimacy. Taking our own moral inventory, sharing it with God and another human being, asking God to remove our defects of character, making amends to others, promptly admitting when we're wrong, sharing our recovery with others, passing it on, are all ways of learning intimacy. Writing is a great way to learn intimacy. To peel away layers and share what's underneath.

God already knows us, but like Adam and Eve we hide from him, too full of shame to walk in intimacy with him in the garden. He wants nothing more than to lavish us with love with arms opened wide. Go ahead. Fall into his arms. Let him peel away the layers. Nothing revealed will repell him. Ask him to put people in your life with whom you can experience intimacy. They may or may not be in a church. Not all church people are safe. But you can experience intimacy with God, with yourself, and with other human beings. It won't happen overnight. But full recovery from the effects of addiction requires learning intimacy.

"Oh taste and see that the Lord is good. For his mercy endureth forever."

Getting Rid of the Crap

Thought I'd give you a heads up on the topic today. In case you're squeamish. If you've ever been on the Atkins diet you know you lost weight but you probably also experienced constipation. You have to pick fibers that don't shoot up your blood sugar. I managed because I took ground flax seed and Psyllium Husk. I also found fish oil helped. Veggies and fruits are carbs and have to be limited on Atkins--especially fruit.

I've never been that fond of salads and raw veggies, and fruit is limited because of its high sugar content. Not that fruit ever helped me with a lifelong constipation problem. I could eat a lb of grapes or cherries and see no impact.

The food protocol for lap band is pretty close to the Atkins Diet. Protein first. Veggies and fruit in small quantities. Careful with the grains because they swell and stretch the stomach. Regular bread and rice can make you bp when they swell. Whole grains can be added cautiously to help control hunger after you've been on the band awhile and your stomach is healed.

So enter my old enemy, constipation. Laxatives barely help. I've added fish oil back and just a little ground flax seed. I'm scared of the Psyllium Husk because I know it expands in water. I drink my V8 everyday as well as some diet V8 Splash to get my veggies. I do have some cooked broccoli and califlower and green beans. All fruit has to be peeled and raw veggies can hurt the stomach. I eat a lot of beans (not green ones), but all they do is make me fart.

When I was a kid I was so constipated I only went 1x/wk after my big Sunday dinner. TMI, I know, but I gave you fair warning.

Excercise is supposed to help but I'm walking and hour and fifteen minutes everyday. Big meals actually used to help me move it through but I can no longe eat big meals.

I take a good multivitamin as well as calcium supplements and I get my dairy everyday, so I'm getting my nutrients.

This whole subject gives new meaning to the phrase: this too shall pass.

People do not like to be constipated. If you've ever dined in a nursing home you'll find prune juice to be a very popular item. I'd need to drink a quart.

I'm finding it hard to come up with any kind of spiritual or tool for recovery meaning to apply to this topic. Constipation is just a fact of life that you have to experiment with until you get relief, whether you've had lap band or not.

About the only metaphorical meaning I can come up with is that its important to get the crap in your life out of you. You need to do what it takes to get it moving on out or you'll end up with a sluggish brain and spirit and may actually end up with an impacted brain that's stuck on the same old ideas and ways of thinking and is not capable of changing for the better. Step 6 & 7 deal with becoming ready to have God remove all our defects of character and then humbly asking him to do so.

Work the steps, pray, read your Bible, read spiritual books, talk to people who don't look like you or think like you, journal, take some risks, go on adventures, take care of yourself, peel away another layer and reveal yourself, have fun, and don't take yourself too seriously or waste time beating yourself or other people up. Love God above all and your neighbor as yourself.

Celebrate!

Several people posted the past 2 days about having kids with major addictions. Some are taking care of grandchildren or have never seen their grandchildren due to removal from birth parent due to child endangerment.

My heart goes out to everyone dealing with addiction with their grown children. I have attended Alanon for years, gone to counseling, work currently a little bit with Celebrate Recovery. Spent some time posting back to those struggling. My first husband had an issue with alcohol. One of the best things I'm doing is dealing with my own addiction to food. I see codependency as closely tied into food addiction. Tough love and taking care of ourselves in relationships aides our own recovery and sets a good example to the other addicts or potential addicts (like our children) in our lives.

I had a wonderful Sunday. Church this morning and then a luncheon with a group that 20 years ago sponsored several Ethiopian refugees at a former church. One of the refugees was out here visiting with his wife and kids. We all reminisced about that time and some of the funny cultural differences and situations that arose. I ate a little bit of everything that looked good to me but did not overindulge.

Then I sang on a praise team at a special service this evening. We're a multicultural church and we had our annual Taste of Reconciliation. I had a few tastes of various countries, focusing on protein, a little of this and that. Did not overindulge. Didn't want to bp in the middle of a song on stage. LOL. Then we moved into the sanctuary where my praise team and invited singers and groups from other churches also sang--sometimes in other languages. We had a dynamite short sermon, dynamite music of all styles, I got to sing in Spanish. Haven't sung all summer since choir took a summer break. People left on such a spiritual high. Loved it.

Worship; acting justly, loving mercy, and walking humbly with our God; 12-step recovery groups; spreading the good news of the Gospel and how we can recover even from our addictions; having had a spiritual awakening as a result of these steps, I try to carry this message to others and to practice these principles in all my affairs.

Today was a gift. So many of the elements of recovery were there. Many of the things most precious to me were celebrated.

God is good all the time,
All the time God is good.

What an Idiot!

What an idiot! I got in a minor fender bender today and got a ticket. I let myself be pressured by a honking driver who wanted me to pull out into fast-moving traffic and then swerved around me to get out of the parking lot driveway and pulled into traffic ahead of me. I followed him and hit a car he just missed. He was laughing as he pulled away. So I let an idiot turn me into one.

Loss of serenity. Letting someone else's bad behavior affect your decisions. Just a momentary lapse and...boom! No one hurt. My old car has just one more scrape but, of course, the other car was strategically hit in the right front quarter panel and the door with a scrape on the wheel cover. The mother of the young man driving the other car was understandably upset, but calmed down fairly quickly as I apologized and took responsibility.

What amazed me is how she, her son, and her daughter were all immediately on their cell phones and taking pictures with their phones as well as their handy-dandy camera. It all ended fairly amicably since I have good insurance and took responsibility.

But I'll have to go to court to get my license back. Had to call the insurance company. Felt like an idiot.

This is life. I love the serenity prayer at moments like this. It's become absorbed into my nature over the years and in an emergency I go right into that mode.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.

I couldn't change the fact that I got in an accident or that it was my fault, so I immediately accepted that fact and my responsibility. I could speak calmly and soothingly to the distraught, angry woman, quickly apologizing, and de-escalated the situation quite rapidly so that she apologized to me. I had ignored her screaming at me to stop my car and moved it to a safer place where it wouldn't block traffic and cause another accident. She thought I was leaving the scene. Once she realized my intent, she was embarassed.

Afterwards, I did not go home and eat.

Acceptance and serenity. Two major tools of recovery. I couldn't go back and change what happened, though I surely wish I could have. I didn't dwell on it. I had the courage to admit I was at fault and to change the atmosphere. I had the wisdom to know that I had to act to move my car right away and explain later.

Honesty is another huge tool of the program. "Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong, promptly admitted it!" Step 10 of the 12 steps.

I also made amends which is Step 9. In fact, by having a current license and carrying good insurance, I was prepared to make amends in just such a situation.

Now I did call the reckless driver a bad name--something to do with a donkey's hind end, but realized that would get me nowhere and I needed to take care of my business.

And I did. And I didn't eat.

God is good all the time!
All the time God is good!

Tell Your Story

I was in a restaurant today. I didn't think I'd been experiencing much restriction but I ate bread for the first time (other than a bite or two in the past.) Pita bread with goat cheese, tomato, olive and hummus. Also had a little spanakopita. I bp'd (productive burped, not British Petroleum)into a raised flower bed facing the street (we were seated outdoors) very discreetly. Yuck, yuck, yuck. The nutritionist was right when she said bread can expand in your stomach. I was eating slowly and chewing well and still bp'd. On a good note, my husband and I chewed up the sidewalk in downtown Chicago. I was able to walk and walk and walk. (Think about the initial letters in pita bread. Now reverse them and what do they spell?)

It was good to know that I still have some restriction, but not the nicest way to find out. I sat on the edge of the flower bed with my back to the restaurant and I think the only person who noticed was a motorist whose car was stopped right in front of me. I made sure not to look at her, till she was driving off. She had a very stange smile on her face.

Humor is such an important part of recovery. I told two Christian counselors the name of my blog and they both burst into laughter. Humor lends perspective and keeps us from taking ourselves too seriously. If you've ever been cornered by someone with serious issues who has no sense of humor and who takes every opportunity or topic in a conversation to relate a boring, deadly serious anecdote about themselves, you know exactly what I mean.

Telling our stories is also an important tool in recovery. And you have to tell the bad stuff, too, or the story's not complete and is not believable. If you can do it with a light touch, all the better. But there are some things that happen to us that are totally not funny. That's when we need to convey the emotion and the pain.

I think about people I know and love who were sexually abused. There is absolutely no way to make the telling of that funny. Yet I've seen women smile as they relate the story and minimize its impact on them. Their smiles are closer to grimaces, but they don't know that. I know women who are so damaged by what was done to them (especially with severe, long-term abuse) that they'll never be able to be in a normal healthy relationship or function optimally in the workplace--even after years of counseling and drug therapy.

Many women with eating disorders were sexually abused as children. That doesn't mean that all women with eating disorders were abused, nor do all women who were abused develop eating disorders. I was not abused. But a number of women who were, chose to tell me their stories. Sometimes I've been the first person they've ever told. For them, telling their stories is crucial. Each time they tell another person and are not shamed or rejected for telling, they get closer to healing. Keeping the secret has torn them apart internally. I think women have told me their stories because they sense I am a safe person to tell. All I can do is listen, and that's what I do. I don't tell others. Most of these stories cannot be for public consumption. Sometimes, after a person has told me, they'll find ways to avoid me. The fact that I know their secret is just too uncomfortable for them. But it broke the ice. It will be easier for them to tell the next person.

Everybody has a story to tell. Telling it helps the teller and the listener. When we who are Christians tell our stories, we tell of God's love for us and his grace in walking through the worst experiences with us. Whatever was done to us, was done to him. Whenever we suffer, he suffers. When we laugh, he laughs with us. His is the greatest story ever told, yet he'll listen to our story and hang on every word.

Tell your story.

On-line Community and Friendship

In Bandster talk onederland is when the first number of your weight drops to a one. One hundred and something instead of two hundred or three hundred. You hit onederland when you drop to 199.9 lbs. Bandsters put count-down tickers to record their weightloss on their posts to various threads. You see their starting weight, current weight and goal weight. Those who "band" together during a certain month will pick a name which they proudly display in glitter letters on every post.

They celebrate various goals along their journey--onederland being one of them. They celebrate their "bandiversaries", one year, two year, etc. anniversaries of their band date. Jargon has always been a way to bind groups together.

Currently, many of the June Journeys are experiencing "band hell," that time when fills have not begun or not yet begun to make a difference with food restriction. I know I was very careful the past two days and finally lost almost 2 lbs. But today I'm hungry. Actually feeling stomach growling hunger. I'm trying to stick to protein but after I eat it I'm hungry again quickly. Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day. My first fill is August 11 so I've got a ways to go. So far I've lost 28 lbs. I'll be halfway when I reach 35 lbs lost and goal weight will be a 70 lb weight loss.
My clothes are falling off me. I need to go to the thrift store to find clothes--especially pants--that will see me through only a month or two--before they outgrow me. Pants are, of course, the hardest thing to buy at a thrift store.

Its nice to know I'm not alone on this journey. Its fun to discover and participate in a whole 'nuther world that has its own language and celebrations. My 50's plus group is talking about getting together. Deciding where in the United States to do that could be a real problem because we come from all over.

Some people denigrate the various internet communities like Facebook and, I'm assuming, Lapbandtalk as creating artificial intimacy. To me, it feels more like making acquainatances, checking each other out, finding common interests. and possibly establishing some unexpected friendships. There were times when I was in counseling groups and Alanon groups that I experienced some of the best sharing and friendship I've ever had. When the groups fell apart it left a hole in my life. We laughed and cried together, we went out for coffee together, we gave each other advice, but mostly we just listened.

I'm thinking Lapbandtalk is a gracelet (a little piece of God's grace) that's allowing me to once again conversate and share stories with people with a common interest. Before, it was the common interest of having a relative with an addiction. Now its our own addiction. Before the summer is out I hope to find a non-judgemental, non-rule driven support group that will help me continue this lifestyle change. But in the meantime, these fellow lap band journeyers with their willingness to share their stories have become friends. I don't always know their faces, but I'm beginning to know their stories.

In my life I've changed addresses, churches, husbands, interests, and jobs, and each of these changes has brought about a loss of friends. They get harder and harder to replace. I'm going to take my friendships where I can find them. And that includes the internet.