The last time I wrote about A Course in Weight Loss, it was on lesson #3. I had described my altar as my safe place and what creating your safe place entails. Since then, my altar has become crowded, but in a good way. Over the weekend I completed lesson #6, so as part of my commitment to doing all the work entailed in the book and reporting back to you here, I will use this post to recap lessons #4-6. Before I do so, however, I want to report that somewhere around lesson #5, a shift finally occurred in my relationship with food. For the first time in a very long time, I feel that I have a modicum of control over food and not the other way around. This is in thanks to the tools I am learning and the work I am doing.

Again, I remind you that these lessons do not only apply to weight loss, but to all unwanted areas of life: addiction, unhappiness, etc. Also, these are only recaps. If you want to do the work in this wonderful book, please do pick it up and read it for yourself so you get all the information.

Lesson #4 is titled, “Invoke the Real You” and is about facing down the fears that feed our compulsions, and realizing that our bodies at their healthiest, happiest, and most creative already exist and dwell in divine possibility. Marianne Williamson writes that our healthier figures are not just vague hopes dangling out in the universe somewhere– rather, they are divine imprints gestating within us. “The same God who created roses created you,” she writes. “Nothing you have ever done and nothing that anyone has ever done to you could make imperfect what God created perfect.” 

Through spiritual practice we can find our way back to our real selves: through prayer, meditation, forgiveness, and compassion. So in lesson #4 we meditate on removing any fear we have of being who we really are. No one is holding us back except ourselves. “You are cruel to you,” Williamson writes. “You are withholding from you. You are harming you.”

Embracing the power of positive thought and the law of attraction, ideas I already believe in, lesson #4 teaches us that the more we embrace the image of a beautiful body and emotionally permit ourselves to desire one, the more our subconscious minds will make one manifest. Therefore, rather than comparing and contrasting our bodies with those in magazines, which usually leads to a seesaw of alternating motivation and despair, we will project our real selves into the world, creating a new image for ourselves rather than the ones that have always existed with our flabby stomachs and double chins.

I was with Williamson until she suggested self-imposing my head onto images of beautiful bodies. I thought this was pretty ridiculous, to be honest and I felt embarrassed. In fact, it took me a couple weeks to be convinced that I should. Since my beauty apparently already exists, the more I claim it as already existing, the more quickly it will materialize. Supposedly.

So I did it. I tore out four photos from my favorite catalog, Athleta, and cut my head off photos and taped them over the models, fully prepared to blame the book should anyone decide to have me committed for this strange act. I placed the four images on my altar. And you know what? I love looking at them. The very next morning when my alarm clock went off at the dreadful hour of 5:00 am, I hit the snooze button. Then I thought of those images of myself with the body I dream of, and I got my ass up and to the gym. Envisioning your face on the body you desire really is a helpful tool.

As an overweight person, you have given birth to the body of your suffering; it’s time now to give birth to the body of your joy. – M. Williamson

Lessons #4-6 all represented on my altar.

Lesson #5 is titled “Start a Love Affair with Food” but I prefer to call it, “Let’s Go Shopping!” First of all, Williamson acknowledges that many of us are at home thinking “Ummm, shouldn’t we be ending our love affair with food?” and I love her response.

What you’ve had up to this point has been an obsessive relationship. THERE IS NO LOVE THERE. Pain and compulsion and self-hate are not love.”

So to begin this love affair, in summary we need to learn to eat mindfully and appreciate our food for how it contributes to our health. “The eating patterns of an overeater are chaotic, fearful, furtive, and out of control.” This lesson is a plan for “dissolving your hysteria and filling your emptiness by replacing it with love.” We can attain healthy neutrality toward food by learning to love it, and the only food we can really love is food that loves us back. Sundaes may give us a momentary high, but so can crystal meth. Things full of sugar and processed chemicals bring us lots of things, but you will not find love amongst the higher cholesterol and increased cancer, diabetes, cardiovascular disease and food allergy risks, not to mention the weight gain. Foods that love you contribute to your well-being.  

So in lesson #5, we learn to build a new ritual: the ritual of healthy, wise, non-secretive, and loving eating. And we get to go shopping! Because this ritual involves a new beautiful napkin, new beautiful plate, new beautiful placemat, new beautiful glass, and new beautiful knife, fork and spoon. (I threw in the new beautiful bowl by choice.) These things must be new because we can’t build new rituals using the tools that represent the old.

If that word “ritual” still brings up negative connotations for you, I suggest you read my post “Demystifying the Ritual” or remembering that secretive and excessive eating is also a form of ritual so please don’t try to argue that ritual isn’t for you.

These items must be beautiful because beauty is sacred. Also, nothing need be expensive. My entire place setting pictured below cost less than $20, but it is beautiful and I love it! I washed everything and set it up on my altar, as the book instructs, to beckon the real you… the healthy person who has not quite arrived yet. This place setting can be used whenever I feel like it. I guarantee you that I will not be loading my plate and bowl up with junk. Eating off of these items will be an act of love and mindfulness.

Lesson #5 and #6. A lotus flower is etched into the glass!

Lesson #6 is titled “Build a Relationship with Good Food.” In Lesson #5 we start the love affair, but lesson #6 will help us when that love affair begins to lose its excitement, like when a salad every day no longer does it for you. Contrary to what you may assume, I am a very healthy eater. I cook and eat “real” food. My issue is over-indulgence and emotional binge-eating.

So when lesson #6 instructed me to go buy a piece of fruit, any piece of fruit, I wanted something I have never had before because me and fruit are already in love. I wanted to meet fruit’s exotic cousin.

Is there anything man has created that can begin to compare with the majesty of a mountain? Is there anything man has created that can begin to compare with the beauty of a flower? Is there anything man has created that can begin to compare with the power of a river or the force of a rainstorm? Then why is it that when it comes to food, people have developed this ridiculous notion that we’ve somehow improved on God? That chemically processed food is somehow preferable to what nature has to offer?

– M. Williamson

Enter sexy, mysterious dragonfruit! Rawr!  I placed the dragonfruit on my altar for a day then the next morning (after googling how to cut it – it looks way more intimidating than it is), I cut it up and placed it in my beautiful new bowl on my altar and performed the meditation in the book. It was an exercise in mindful eating and an act of love. After a few bites, I decided it would be better as a smoothie so I blended it with banana and beet and almond milk, but I don’t think it minded.

Lesson #6. Dragonfruit whole, diced, smoothied.

A Course in Weight Loss: 21 Spiritual Lessons for Surrendering Your Weight Forever is changing my dysfunctional relationship with food. That relationship has been a source of my suffering so this weight loss journey is running parallel with my journey to be a more compassionate person. The work is going hand in hand, two lines that weave along together in the same direction toward the same destination: happiness.

Where is your safe place? Meaning, where do you go when you’ve had enough for one day or when you’re depressed, hurt, broken-hearted, angry, or just need a break? For many people, it’s home, but where in your home? Do you have a place where you can shut out the world and be left alone?

Mine was always my bed. For as long as I can remember I have retreated to my bed to eat, hide, cry, scream into my pillow, and most of all… sleep. I can slip into bed at 6:00 pm on a terrible day and not wake up for over twelve hours. I have always been able to do this. Sleeping has been my secret weapon for hiding from people, passing the time when I was young and bored and waiting for a boy or friend to call, mending my broken heart after break-ups, or forcing my brain into an off position to stop relentless thoughts.

Despite all that rest, I have grown weary of sleeping my life away. I don’t want a place to hide, but instead a place to heal. I want a true safe place, one where I can go not to pass time or shut down, but to calm down.

For many people another comforting place, albeit very temporary, is the kitchen. That’s where the food is. Perhaps this is why A Course in Weight Loss calls for creating a safe place in Lesson 3. At times of struggle, our deepest desire isn’t really for food, “but for the experience of home,” Marianne Williamson writes. “Your deepest desire is not for food, but for love.” According to her, unconscious eating stems from a starvation of healthy self-love and the struggle to find it elsewhere.

If fear’s headquarters are our beds, kitchens, bars, etc., where are love’s headquarters?

Love’s headquarters exist at our altars, so it is important we create a place in our homes that remind us that love is the true power in our lives. This will provide us with a safe place to go when we are feeling afraid, sad, angry or ready to give up.

To create an altar in your home, consider what area of your home is best – a spare bedroom, a corner in the basement? It should be a place where you can have privacy, set up an altar, and sit comfortably. I am fortunate to have a home office, a room all my own.

Your altar should celebrate and support your willingness to love yourself and be healthy. Try not to get hung up on the word altar. By “altar” I mean only a table or flat-topped surface, such as an end table or board set on books, used as a place of focus for a ritual. And by ritual, anything goes: reflection, meditation, prayer, journal writing, reading…. any acts of love you perform for yourself. For example, my Happiness Jar sits on my altar. It is part of my ritual to write down my happiest moment from every day on a piece of paper, fold it up, and drop it into my jar.

Once you have identified a place in your home and selected your altar, place upon it beautiful and meaningful objects that remind you of the love you hope to bring to yourself and your spirit. Pictures, prayer books, statues, prayer beads, books, fresh flowers, your journal… anything that expresses your devotion to love and a more beautiful life. Nothing negative. You don’t want a picture of your ex-boyfriend here even if you still love him tremendously. This is a place for your most favorite things.

This is my altar and its contents:

My altar is an antique traveling trunk, a gift from my mother when I was a teenager. I store my sentimental items inside it. Atop the altar are scented candles: one was a gift from my brother and sister-in-law, purchased in Morocco, and it reminds me of them whom I love dearly, but also of adventure and travel; one represents love and smells of lemongrass; one is orange, representative of the sacral chakra where I carry the majority of my stress; the salt votive holder on the right is also for aiding my sacral chakra and is on (permanent?) loan from my dear friend, Kathy.

In front are two incense holders carved out of stone into elephants. The holders accommodate cones and sticks and I always burn it when I meditate/pray or spend any time before my altar. (Aromatherapy does wonderful things for the body and the scent of burning incense calms me immediately.) I adore elephants and consider them exceptional creatures. I also identify with them as my spirit animal so they are important to me. One was a gift from a dear friend whom I love very much, and the other I purchased for myself on a wonderful day, so it is associated with a lovely memory.

On the left is a water globe from my husband, which contains orange-hued trees and when you shake it, orange leaves swirl all around. I love autumn; the scents, the imagery, the weather, the foods, and this globe encapsulates all those sensations for me. It is also orange, which again is good for opening my sacral chakra.

In the center is a seated Buddha and to the right is a crying Buddha. The seated Buddha inspires me to be calm and still and to empty my mind, and also to respect the place I have created for myself. As for the crying Buddha, there are several legends and symbols. Common symbolism is that the Buddha weeps for all humankind, suffering from all the troubles in the world so that we do not have to. For me though it is also a reminder that someone even as strong and poised as the Buddha suffers, and it is okay to feel pain and to cry for this world we live in. Life is hard. In front of the crying Buddha is a small little novelty laughing Buddha. It makes me smile. No matter how still or calm I can become, I always want to cry into my hands… but also to laugh deep inside my belly. I also have a piece of rose quartz to trace over my face in times of need. It is said to help nurture and also to inspire love in one’s self and others. At the very least, it is calming. There is also a little angel stone that reminds me of my mother.

Behind the seated Buddha is my Happiness Jar, a collaged and decoupaged pickle jar that contains my happiest moment from every day. My mala (prayer beads) rests to the right of it on a small wooden carved elephant given to me by an employee I managed over twelve years ago. I do not remember her name, but I have kept it all this time. On the far left is my Buddha Board. You write on it in water and the words evaporate so what you write literally fades away, a visual that assists in letting go.

This is what those words looked like after less than a minute:

Although this altar has existed in my home half a year now, I am not in the habit of going to it when I am upset. In fact, I have avoided it at times of distress for fear of contaminating the space I have so lovingly created for myself. I realize only now this is ridiculous. It’s like buying a fancy car and only driving it when you’re dressed up. This space is magical for me and has everything I need to calm me and reinforce love in my life. With the help of Lesson 3 I see now that this is the safe place I have been lacking despite it being right in my home.

Marianne Williamson writes:

On any given day when you feel triggered, when you are deeply drawn to the ritualistic dance of self-hatred that is overeating [or drinking, smoking, etc.], you will have more power to resist if on that day you already experienced the power of your altar.

And if you haven’t already experienced its power, then go to it and allow it to fill you with love.

Also, please consider a donation to Save the Elephants and help save these majestic creatures.

I continue to be amazed by the timing and synchronicity of things. I can’t help but view these events as some sort of cosmic reassurance that I’m on the right track creating my own rituals, setting new moon intentions and working my way through A Course in Weight Loss to help overcome my emotional over-eating.

Thursday, the 16th was a new moon so I finalized my intentions for the new cycle the night before. Writing down my short term goals last moon cycle motivated me more than any trick or tool had before.  Maybe it was the physical act of writing them down and seeing them in black and white, or maybe it was the energy of the moon or the “officialness” of the ritual – making my intentions known and believing I could achieve them, rather than just half-assing them off to the void. I believe it was all three. Anyway, it was a productive and successful cycle. I did tough things, including a few exercises I had been putting off. I found that I wanted to get the hardest things done first, and I did.

My new motto has become “eat the frog first.” My lovely sister-in-law shared the motivational expression with me, one she had learned in business school, and it stuck. The idea is to just get it over with and do the hardest thing first. Everything seems easier after that – you don’t have to think about that task anymore. It’s like working out first thing in the morning. For the rest of the day, you’re off the hook.

I’ve actually been practicing this method for quite some time. Now I have a fun expression for it. I have a good friend who absolutely hates when I say this (and I do say it often). It’s funny to me, though considering he eats his food precisely in the order of what he likes least first, literally saving the best for last. I also rather finish my meal with the lingering taste of french fries in my mouth than frog guts. But I digress.

So I ate the frog first last moon cycle and included a hard thing for this moon cycle because I believe that if it doesn’t challenge you, it doesn’t change you, and if it doesn’t change you, you’re not making progress.

The “theme” of the last moon cycle was creativity, mindfulness and action. I felt that energy, creating my own rituals and taking action. I completed Lesson #1 in A Course in Weight Loss and moved on to the next, titled “Thin You, Meet Not-Thin You.” This lesson involves getting to know and love the part of you that overeats. I smiled when I read up on the “theme” of this new moon in Cancer: self-love and compassion.

Synchronicity, guys.

For Lesson #2, Marianne Williamson writes that Not-Thin You “is not your enemy; she is an unintegrated part of yourself. She is an aspect of you that is demanding to be seen and heard.” The point is to give her the love and attention she needs and deserves. “It does feel odd that we should honor a part of ourselves that we do not want, but Not-Thin You will not go away until she is listened to.”

Ever since the stress in my life reached all time highs and I put on 30 pounds of extra weight, I have sternly exclaimed that THIS (motioning to my body) is NOT me! “I feel like I am walking around in a fat suit!” I have been so conflicted feeling one way and looking another, going around defending myself. Then I realized through reading this book that I have been denying an entire dimension of myself and no wonder I was feeling so conflicted. “…and in a dysfunctional effort to numb the pain of the conflict, you’ve only created more of it.”

Bingo.

Since we can’t just love on command or turn off our anger, communication is necessary. So Lesson #2 calls for initiating an honest and transparent dialogue between Thin You and Not-Thin You.

So Thin Me wrote to Not-Thin Me and I laid it out on the table. To summarize, I took responsibility for all I had put us through, but expressed my disappointment in her inability to bounce back now that life isn’t as stressful. I told her she embarrasses me and holds me back, but also thanked her for getting up that mountain in Colorado with my brother that gained 1,400 feet of elevation in only 1.6 miles. I asked her what the fuck her problem is and pointed out all the things I have done to help her. I insisted she tells me what she needs. I told her I can’t move on with my life until she gets her shit together.

Then Not-Thin Me responded. She thanked me for all that I’m doing for her, especially getting our heart rate up more and working my way through this book. “I am stronger than I look,” she wrote. She pointed out that it’s not all her fault and cited specific examples where I’ve screwed up, “so stop blaming me for everything!” As for what she needs: attention. Patience, love, kindness, compassion. “Stop ignoring me and saying you’re not me because I hate to tell you this, but YOU are ME,” she wrote.

We are much closer to reconciliation. I realize now how wrong it was for me to deny her existence. Hopefully as she begins to feel safe, she will relax, and we can work together.

Again, I share these lessons not only for emotional eaters. This exercise translates to Happy You and Not-Happy You, Sober You and Drunk You, Adult You and Little-Kid You. Is there a dimension of yourself that you’re denying? Perhaps someone fighting for your attention? Open up the lines of communication, lay your side out there and see what they have to say. You may be surprised…

The exercises in this book and losing weight aren’t the only things I’m working on. Two days in to this moon cycle I ate my frog and the rest of my intentions seem like a cake walk (I’ll substitute some fruit for the cake). I am also happy to report that I will be submitting an essay for professional publication. (Wish me luck!)

What are your intentions for this moon cycle, this month, this week, or even just tomorrow? Eat your frog. It may suck at the moment, but think of how good you’ll feel afterward.

Friday night I performed the release ritual I referenced in the post Brick by Brick: Tearing Down Your Emotional Wall, and it was incredible. I had a genuine spiritual experience and I feel… different. I feel lighter, happier, and most of all (and hardest to describe) I feel love, like I received a shot of warmth straight to my heart. Now I fully understand the importance of creating our own rituals to heal ourselves.

As a reminder, I have been working my way through lesson #1 in Marianne Williamson’s A Course in Weight Loss: 21 Spiritual Lessons for Surrendering Your Weight Forever. I wrote in a notebook all the things that I feel resentful, guilty, ashamed and angry about; my fears and burdens, reasons I feel inferior; 18 emotions in all in an effort to rid myself of excess emotional waste. Once everything was written down, the book provides a prayer and visualization to surrender it to God (or a higher being). The release ritual was all my idea. I wanted something more involved, something a little more noteworthy and deserving of so much emotional shit. I wanted it to be an event. I’m a planner and I like things to be elaborate.

What is a ritual?

My husband teased me, referring to my ritual as voodoo and offered to bring me home some chicken bones. There’s something about the word “ritual” that makes people think of sacrificial offerings or dancing naked around a fire. Although rituals are often rooted in religion, they are solemn ceremonies or behaviors consisting of a series of actions performed according to a prescribed order. Rituals maintain tradition and offer closure; their formality is comforting. Sunday Mass and funerals are well-known rituals. To some degree so is surrounding someone with a cake in front of them and singing Happy Birthday.

Elizabeth Gilbert wrote in Eat, Pray, Love that we do spiritual ceremonies “in order to create a safe resting place for our most complicated feelings of joy or trauma, so that we don’t have to haul those feelings around with us forever, weighing us down.” That was precisely my plan with this release ritual. This is why people lovingly design intricate scrapbooks to contain their precious memories, or burn photos in an effort to move on after heartbreak.

My release ritual

The morning of the ritual I thought I would awaken excited, but I felt agitated all day, apprehensive, not unlike a child who has done something wrong
and is equal parts defensive, ashamed, and afraid of punishment. I had been hiding from God for a while and I was nervous to speak to Him.

Later that night I sent my husband out so I could have total privacy. I lit candles and incense on my altar and settled in with my notebook seated on my zabuton and zafu (Japanese cushions used in meditation). I turned off the lights.

After a nervous and awkward start, I was soon spilling open aloud to God, sharing every negative action, thought, and memory. I sobbed and excused myself to blow my nose as if seated across from Him in a therapy session. Things began to make sense in a way they hadn’t when I wrote them down. After every emotion I felt a calm. Before turning the page, I would say: “Dear God, I surrender my (insert emotion here) to you. Please take it from me. Amen.”

When I was finished with all 18 emotions the book says to visualize a brick wall comprised of all the suffering and pain I had been carrying around, then ask God to help me break it down, brick by brick. I settled in to a calm meditation. It took some time to form a mental image of the Big Man, but when I did, He resembled a mix of Albus Dumbledore, Father Time, and Jesus Christ.

I won’t share all the details, but let me just say we had fun breaking down that wall together, karate chop noises and all. Afterward, we stood over the ashes of the obliterated brick and talked. It was the easiest conversation I ever had. Afterward, I recited a prayer from the book.

Next in my ritual I had planned to write each of the 18 emotions on my Buddha Board as one last visualization of watching them fade away (you write in water and as it evaporates, the words literally disappear), but I suppose God had other plans for me. I wrote something else, which I think I’d like to keep to myself (sorry!). I’m not sure if the words were His to me, mine to Him or mine to myself… I think perhaps all three. But they were the most perfect words.

Lastly in my ritual I ripped out the 18 pages from my notebook and headed outside with some lavender and a box of matches. I set the pages onto the fire pit, and sprinkled lavender on top. I thought those words would burn quickly, but I was wrong. The emotions, pain and suffering did not surrender easily. Rather each page seared and burned slowly from the corner back, one at a time as I repeated: “Dear God, I surrender these emotions to you. Please take them from me. Amen.”

I looked up, and was surprised by the number of stars burning over me. I did not head back inside until every ember burned out below me, concluding the ritual.

Marianne Williamson writes that “to spiritually surrender something is to surrender our thoughts about it. What we put on the altar is then altered.”

I literally placed my pain and suffering on the altar. I am now altered thanks to feeling empowered to create my own ritual.

 

Save

Save

Save

Save

Last week I confessed I am an emotional over-eater. The support and understanding I received after that post was inspiring and heartwarming, and I thank you all. Some of you shared your struggles with me privately and although it saddens me to know so many of us are suffering, I also find it encouraging: we know we’re not alone and we’re talking about it.

Admitting you’re powerless over a problem is the first step in commonly known 12-step programs. For many people, food is just as addictive as alcohol or narcotics. You may not understand this or believe this could be possible, but it’s true. That’s why programs like Over-eaters Anonymous (O.A.) exist. And remember, we all need food to survive. An alcoholic can stop drinking. A drug addict can stop taking drugs and detox. A food addict cannot stop eating. They must learn to manage and live with their addiction.

I am not taking a 12-step approach to my emotional over-eating. As I mentioned earlier, I am working through the exercises in A Course in Weight Loss: 21 Spiritual Lessons for Surrendering Your Weight Forever by Marianne Williamson. I just think there is an opportunity to practice compassion and to reserve judgement toward overweight people. An overweight person at an ice cream parlor is not that different than an alcoholic sitting at a bar. Some empathy could go a long way.

Admitting to myself I have this problem, and then admitting it publicly here, has made a tremendous difference. Two weeks ago I went for blood work to have my thyroid checked – that was the extent to which I denied my overeating. My thyroid is just fine. There was no denying it anymore. Yes, I was active. Yes, I ate right the majority of the time. But yes, when I messed up, I messed up big, and that was why I couldn’t lose weight.

So now that I finally know this, and you know this, I can get to work on fixing it! I am finding that most often any lesson in anything can be applied to various areas of life so please, don’t stop reading just because you may not be an emotional eater. Surely, the following exercise can benefit all.

“The weight on your mind, and thus on your body, is the weight of your own emotional shadows that have not yet had a light shone on them. They might be unprocessed feelings, negative thoughts, or fear-based attitudes and personality traits.”

Our systems are built to process waste; that includes emotionally and mentally. But when we hang on to excess emotional baggage, we do not allow it to dissolve. We all have unprocessed emotions, but we all express it in different ways: over-eating, drinking, violent outbursts… “The form of dysfunction is not particularly relevant; what matters is that we address the unprocessed suffering behind it.” 

That involves a willingness to be real and honest with yourself about emotional issues, and then a willingness to release them.

On a journal, I wrote various emotions in thick marker on the top of each page: GUILT; ABANDONMENT; FEAR; JUDGEMENT; BURDEN; 18 words in all.

I got to work writing down my experiences that are true for me, those that have resulted in these negative emotions.

Don’t go unconscious! With each paroxysm of shame, my instinct was to try to shake the memories from my mind, those that make me wish I could go back in time and not do whatever shameful or embarrassing thing that I did at age 10, 15, 20, 25, etc. Those things that still have the power to make me cringe and seek cover under a blanket.

But I didn’t shake them off. I forced myself to remember and then found words to convey the harsh realities, articulating that which was never said out loud, let alone written on paper. Flipping from page to page, emotion to emotion, forwards and backwards as thoughts occurred to me, the most unexpected thing was that it became easier as more truths poured from my hand.

I felt lighter.

Now that I have this notebook full of my deepest, darkest emotions, fears, judgements and most shameful and embarrassing moments (I hid this thing like it was MY JOB), it is time to release it all. I am going to offer it up and away, ask for all these emotions to be taken from me, ask for forgiveness, and do some forgiving myself.

I am going to sit with my notebook a few more days, making sure I’ve captured everything as I also finalize plans for my release ritual. I feel that this act is worthy of a special ceremony. Everything that has happened to me has shaped me. I want to properly acknowledge all of it, properly express gratitude where appropriate, and properly say goodbye… to the shame, to the people who hurt me, to my guilt over things long gone, to my thoughts that I am inferior, to my judgements, to all the stories in my head associated with those 18 words.

These sorts of release rituals are not unheard of. Writing on balloons and releasing them in celebratory fashion is a common one. Shredding the pages of my notebook will not be enough. This is an exercise in letting go. I want something final. I only want to do this once. I want something worthy of my lifetime so far.

I am excited. I am ready.

If emotions are weighing you down: guilt, burden, unforgiveness of someone who hurt you, then do this exercise with me. What do the bricks around you say? Write it down. Get it of your head and out of your heart.

And then let it go. Let’s all our souls become lighter, together.

I want ice cream. And Cheez-its. I just pried a bag of Lindt chocolate truffles out of my own hands and in an act of defiance threw it out, grabbed my laptop and started aggressively tapping away these words. There’s no denying it anymore. I am an emotional overeater.

My husband just told me he is going out for ice cream and asked me if I wanted any. “No,” I answered through gritted teeth. For a split second I wondered if I should throw up while he’s gone.

I battle with food and my weight EVERY.SINGLE.DAY. of my life. I’m so uncomfortable in my own skin that my reflection in the mirror catches me by surprise at times. I am not this overweight person. I’m active. I drink water. I’m a healthy cook and meal planner. I am an educated consumer, an expert calorie counter, and know the mathematics of losing weight. What I also am, however, is an emotional eater. It was only within the past few months that I could learn to admit this to myself.

The Emotions I Eat

Tonight a terrible storm ripped through the area. Tornado warnings blared from the television while trees bent horizontal in front of our windows and hail slammed against them. I identified my urge to nibble stemmed from nervousness and I fought it off, afraid to look away from the windows into the fridge. Once the storm passed was another story, unfortunately. Relief, perhaps?

There is hardly an emotion I don’t associate with eating. Happiness: celebrate with food; Frustration: you deserve some food; Anxiety/Nervousness: eat the time away; Sadness: numb it with food; Guilt: distract yourself with food; Abandonment: seek comfort from food; Shame: punish yourself with food.

My mom was an emotional eater. With her permission, I can share with you that she went to Over-eaters Anonymous (O.A.) for a time after her divorce. She’d drag me along when I was too young to stay home alone. I remember all those overweight people standing in a circle, holding hands, reciting the Serenity Prayer. My Mom shared at a meeting that she had eaten nearly a dozen donuts and in an act of desperation, threw the box in the trash. She later retrieved it from the can, had another one while crying with each bite, until she finally threw them back into the trash and dumped used coffee grinds over them for good measure.

I’ve never eaten anything out of the trash, but I will tell you that I see a lot of my mom’s behaviors in me. I don’t know how much is learned and how much is genetics, but I can’t keep living this way. I feel powerless a lot of the time; miserable. I can’t seem to go more than a week without a setback.

Beginning to Understand Why I Am an Emotional Overeater

I started reading A Course in Weight Loss: 21 Spiritual Lessons for Surrendering Your Weight Forever. Although I am only on the first lesson, it’s really hitting home. The goal is to reset the mind in order to reset the body. The notion being that we are perfect, but have a tendency to forget who we are. When we can’t remember who we are, we have trouble behaving like the person who in our heart we most long to be. Fear is powerful.

“[Fear] expresses itself as an imposter self, perverting your true nature and making you behave in a way that is opposite of who you truly are.”

Overeaters have a delusional relationship with food, imbuing it with power it doesn’t actually possess, while indulging in an act of self-hatred. The book refers to it as an “emotionally violent act” to which we then scold ourselves for doing, “inflicting further violence.” I know this vicious cycle all too well.

The book aims to help us replace fear with love, and it starts off with an intense emotional exercise to shed excess weight from our minds, the weight of our emotional shadows.

I will be elaborating on this exercise in my next post because I am finding it powerful and beneficial, and it would be for anyone, not just an overeater.

I’m not going to eat anything else tonight. I managed to distract myself long enough. When referring to my weight, I say all the time, “This isn’t me!” But here I am, unexpectedly announcing to all of you that I am an emotional overeater. Why? Because I suppose this is me. And I know for a fact I am not alone. But just because this is who I am now, doesn’t mean it is who I am supposed to be, or who I will remain.

Alas, this is another part of my journey to happiness. I have some serious work ahead of me as I work on getting my emotional shit together.

Thanks so much for reading.