Stuck is a terrible state of mind.

To be perfectly honest, I have felt stuck for quite some time despite all the work I’m doing. I suppose someone who isn’t stuck wouldn’t embark on a journey such as this, so perhaps this comes as no surprise.

For me, stuck feels as if I’ve been confined to one room. I have cleaned the room, painted it, decorated it, re-arranged it… I’ve done all I can think of to make it suit me and help make it more habitable… to help it make me happy.

Then I decide it just won’t do, so I pack it all up to prep for my departure. There’s a door, plain as day. But despite feeling stuck, I’m used to the room. It’s familiar. I don’t know what’s outside the door, so I unpack my belongings and remain, temporarily relieved by my decision. But in no time I’m back to coming up with new and creative ways to change the space, repeating the cycle over and over, remaining within those four walls…

That’s what it’s like to be stuck. Be it a job, relationship, location… it happens to the best of us. We acknowledge we don’t like our situation, so we try our best to change it in the safest ways we know because we’re too afraid to abandon it completely, no matter how much we may tell ourselves otherwise.

Becky Vollmer of You Are Not Stuck understands this state of mind all too well. She, too was once stuck. Stuck in the wrong marriage and the wrong job, drinking too much to help her cope. On her website she asks:

• Do you wake up in the morning dreading the day ahead?

• Do you continue unhealthy or unproductive habits and patterns, even though you know they’re not moving you forward?

• Do you feel powerless to control your future? Do you feel bound by your past?

• Do you ever wonder how on earth you got to such an unhappy place?

• Do you have a mental laundry list of reasons why you CAN’T POSSIBLY
  change your circumstances (“I can’t afford to…”, “I don’t know how…”,
  “People would laugh/be angry/think I’m crazy if…”)?

• Do you talk yourself
  out of a dream before you take even a tiny step toward it?

If your answers are ‘yes,’ you are stuck, too.

Unsticking is HARD. It’s hard because it requires a massive jolt, like from an engine forcing the rusted cogs of  an ancient mighty machine to life, dust raining down while the walls shake with deafening duress. It takes something BIG.

Sometimes it feels as if we require a sheer force of nature to unstick us. We can’t muster the tremendous courage it takes so we plan and prepare, much like I’ve been redecorating and packing my little metaphorical room, and then wait for the Universe to do the rest. This has been my strategy. I truly believe that things happen when they are meant to and that everything that needs to happen, happens.

The Universe, and time, has managed to help unpeel me a little bit. I’m like an old Post-it that was moved around so much that the sticky stuff wore off in one corner, never to stick completely again. Knowing I can flutter in a strong wind is incredibly liberating and empowering. Over time, I’ll continue to unstick little by little.

Some people possess the tremendous courage to unstick themselves all at once, like the swift pull of a Band-Aid. My brother, Joey recently did this when he quit his well-paying job to pursue his passion of creating his own schedule, helping people out, and working outdoors.

It seems people like my brother and Becky Vollmer possess two characteristics:

• Courage to take a chance
• Faith that things will work out

Becky writes that “the path to getting unstuck starts with changing our mindset… reframing
the questions… repatterning our actions. And it’s never too late to
start.” She writes that it’s about:

• Believing that anything – and everything – is possible.

• Having the confidence to walk toward our dreams, even if the first steps are on tiptoe.

• Trusting our instincts and intuitions about what feels wrong – and, more importantly, what feels right.

• Understanding that we have the power to change the direction of our
  circumstances and our futures, believing that we do indeed have choices
  and then finding the courage to make them.

• Knowing the difference between obligation and opportunity.

• Being able to say “no” with grace to the things you don’t want in your
  life so that you can say “yes” with enthusiasm to those you do.

After writing this post, I realize I’m further on my way to becoming unstuck than I thought. I have been unsticking myself, albeit slowly, for the past year. I see now the act of creating this blog and starting on this journey was an act of unsticking, in and of itself. I was scared when I started this blog. I worried what people would think. But I found the courage and I took a chance.

And now I’ve found the courage to pursue my dream of writing a novel – to give it a shot for a minimum of one month. I believe writing a novel is possible and I’m going to walk toward that dream. I recognized the opportunity in National Novel Writing Month and I am saying “no” to some things in my life in order to prioritize this goal.

There are aspects of my life where I’m more stuck than others. For example, I still feel very stuck in my body, continuing unhealthy and unproductive habits and patterns, even though I know they’re not moving me forward. I’m trying. I’m also aware where I’m stuck. Hopefully that’s half the battle when it comes to being stuck, too.

Do you know where you’re stuck?

I don’t have the answers for becoming unstuck. All I know is that we need to be brave and go after what we want. First we have to know what that is, though. So if you’re unhappy, try to hone in on what it is that’s making you unhappy. When we’re depressed, it’s easy to become dissatisfied with everything. I know from experience. So, try to focus on each separate aspect of your life and determine what changes can be made more simply to begin unpeeling yourself from a sticky situation. Once a corner is peeled back, you may find the rest of the unsticking to be easier.

Also, be sure to check out You Are Not Stuck for inspiration and/or like it on Facebook for everyday encouragement to becoming unstuck.

Together, with support, we can help each other to become unstuck.

I have to work an event on Saturday and I’m really dreading the long night on my feet. Adding insult to injury, my husband and his family will be in Florida attending a wedding in Palm Beach. I can’t go, thanks to this obligation.

I’ve accepted the fact I can’t go to Florida with little complaining. I’ve also accepted I must attend this event. What I won’t accept is the feeling of dread, which is a crummy, useless emotion and a waste of energy. What dread does is take something you’re already apprehensive about and place it in the foreground of your thought. Whether it’s a test, a test result, a conversation, or an event, dread doesn’t achieve anything but dampen life leading up to the big moment, which won’t come any faster or slower no matter how hard you wish it away or to hurry up.

The trick is to give yourself something to look forward to immediately after the thing you’re dreading. A carrot, if you will! You need to be able to look forward to that thing more than you dread the thing before it. This way you can keep your eye on the prize!

I’m not really dreading Saturday. In fact, I am looking forward to going home after the event, washing up, rubbing cream on my feet, putting on the comfiest clothes and softest socks, and drinking celebratory cranberry wine with my friend, Kathy, whom is staying at my house after the event.

I am also looking forward to waking up on Sunday to the realization that the event is behind me. I am looking forward to an autumn morning walk around the lake near my house, followed by soft boiled eggs and rustic bread for breakfast. Then, once Kathy heads home, I will have the house to myself for most of the day. I plan to start watching Downton Abbey and enjoy a large homemade chopped antipasto salad for lunch.

You can see I’ve given this some thought — sure beats thinking about how much I don’t want to work this event. The comfy clothes and wine are the metaphorical beer waiting for me at the finish line. Hmmm, maybe I’ll make myself a Bloody Mary on Sunday, too!

So that’s my secret. Don’t dread it — plant a carrot! It really works to have something positive overshadow the negative. Instead of dread, you end up with anticipation. Reward yourself for getting through it. And if it what you dread is emotionally taxing, like a tough conversation, you’ll be so glad you planned something nice and comforting for yourself. Your future you will thank your past you for such a kind gesture once the moment of comfort arrives.

If you’re not dedicating time and effort to your dreams, you’re delaying them from happening. It’s as simple as that. 

There are hundreds of reasons why we procrastinate pursuing our dreams, many of them having to do with the voices in our head.

Am I scared? Yes. Do I have time for this? No, not really. Am I ready? Nope. But in order to realize them, we must make our dreams a priority. NaNoWriMo is the perfect time because I am able to take a lofty goal and make it a S.M.A.R.T. goal, as in it’s: specific (draft a novel), measurable (50,000 words), attainable (sure, why not), realistic (technically, yes) and timely (one month).

Support is so important, but not required. Thankfully, my husband is on board. That isn’t to say I wouldn’t pursue this if he wasn’t, but it makes life easier. He understands the time commitment and we know we need to work together. There is also so much support during NaNoWriMo from other writers, including writing events, challenges, word wars, etc. If you want to participate, check out NaNoWriMo.org, search on your region (anywhere in the world) and find events happening in your area. 

I believe my dream is worth one month of prioritization. Yes, it will be challenging, but I know I can do hard things. It’s time to stop delaying and get started, which is often the hardest step. There are a hundred excuses for not doing this, but only one why I should. This is my dream and it’s worth it! That one reason outweighs all the others so it’s time to jump in and put fingers to keyboard. I have roughly three weeks to plan and then it’s go time. 

What is your dream? Silence the voice of excuses, face your fear, claim your time, make the pursuit a priority and GET STARTED. Your dream is worth it. 

YOU are worth it.  

Wonderful readers, I am headed toward a perfect week! A “perfect” day for me is one in which I have exercised, eaten only foods that are good for me, meditated, and not smoked any cigarettes. (I confess I have taken up the occasional cigarette on weekends when socializing and it needs to STOP.) A “perfect” day may still be one in which I felt emotional upset or experienced something bad, but as long as I accomplished those four things, it can be dubbed ‘perfect.’ I keep careful track and I am so excited that this is finally happening!

For some of you, this may seem like no big deal, but I have never been skilled at consistency. I need this perfect week to prove to myself that I can do hard things, and to get some traction. I feel amazing – energized, happy, proud, relaxed, hopeful – my body is loving it and working at full efficiency. I lost 3.3 lbs. so far this week. Everything is working as it should, proving once and for all that I am the only thing holding me back from my goals. Achieving this perfect week puts me on a whole different playing field. It means I am ready to perform at a higher level. It means I CAN DO THIS!

I have been attempting the coveted perfect week all year. What makes this week different? I will tell you one thing; it sure as hell has nothing to do with luck. And it had nothing to do with bad luck either all the times I screwed up. It has only had to do with ME. My lack of willpower and discipline. My excuses.

We have a tendency to look for excuses when we fail: bad luck, Mercury retrograde, so and so pissed me off, unexpected plans, bad news, etc. It takes the responsibility off of ourselves and puts the blame elsewhere so we can justify our actions (or lack thereof). In doing so, we make ourselves a victim. But we’re not at the mercy of what other people do to us, or bad luck, or poor timing or anything else. We are responsible for our actions and whether or not we plan accordingly.

I am taking responsibility right now by saying that I AM RESPONSIBLE FOR MY SUCCESS THIS WEEK! I have worked really, really hard managing my triggers and shortcomings and not giving in to weakness and emotions or laziness and excuses. I have meal-planned, cooked, worked out when I was tired, made time for meditation, and practiced discipline using all the tools at my disposal and everything I have learned so far from A Course in Weight Loss.

I have gotten ahead of tricky situations by planning offensively. I went out for Thursday night football this week. I succeeded in not drinking like a fish or eating my weight in nachos because I mentally prepared myself in advance. I decided I was not going to let one night out ruin my perfect week. Football and bad menu choices are not valid excuses. It was HARD. I left the restaurant feeling weary, but victorious.

Successful people don’t succeed because they have good luck. Unsuccessful people aren’t “unlucky.” Let’s give credit where it is due. My brother and sister-in-law are currently retired and traveling the world. They don’t have amazing luck – they planned for that goal for five years.

There’s an amazing side effect that occurs once you realize that luck is not responsible for your success. You can RELAX.

For most of my life, I felt incredibly anxious whenever things were going well. I was much more comfortable when things were bad; it was comforting. When they were good, I waited for my luck to run out. A friend of mine said to me thirteen years ago, “You’re not waiting for the shoe to drop, you’re waiting for the entire shoe factory to drop.” That always stuck with me. He was right. That fear is what prevented me from getting comfortable in relationships, and caused me to behave in self-destructive ways. Causing my own misfortune helped me to feel like I had control over my life.

But now I finally know that I am in control. Bad things can and will happen, but I am in control of how I handle those situations and whether or not I allow them to derail me. I am not a victim of circumstance. Nor are you.

You, and only you, are responsible for the outcomes in your life.

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.

We are all story-tellers. The only difference is that some of us write our stories down. But make no mistake about it, we’re all crafting stories in our heads starring the people in our lives, and we’re starring in their stories, too. These stories all have something in common: they are fiction.

I’m talking about the story-telling we do when we make assumptions and project our feelings onto others, or our insecurities onto situations.

He didn’t call me back yet. He doesn’t like me anymore.

Susie & Mary went to lunch without me. They’re talking badly about me. 

He didn’t say I look nice. I’m so fat and gross!

He’s not wearing his wedding ring. They’re headed for divorce.

I haven’t invited Jessica to dinner because she’s always busy.

My son behaves this way because he knows it drives me crazy!

Any of this sound familiar? What stories are you telling yourself? My overactive story-telling mind has caused me a lot of suffering. The reason being is that I wasn’t aware my stories were fiction. For example, when my husband would break plans with me, I’d tell myself it was because he didn’t want to spend time with me. I absolutely believed this to be fact. My evidence: he broke plans with me. That’s all the evidence I needed. I couldn’t even hear anything else because I was so hurt that he didn’t want to spend time with me. The story was already written. Therefore, whenever we made plans I feared he would break them again (further proving my story). This built up a lot of anxiety for me and a lot of pressure for him. We ultimately stopped making plans just to avoid it all.

All because of the stories in my head. I use this example because I know it is not uncommon.

This is only one of hundreds of the stories I have told myself and believed to be true. As I’ve cracked the nut on my suffering, I have come to learn the difference and to stop writing so many destructive stories in my head. There is a simple question you can ask yourself when you begin believing your own stories.

Is this true?

Byron Katie is the absolute master of story-telling. She asks the question: Who would you be without your story?

“The Work of Byron Katie is a way of identifying and questioning the thoughts that cause all the anger, fear, depression, addiction, and violence in the world. Experience the happiness of undoing those thoughts through The Work, and allow your mind to return to its true, awakened, peaceful, creative nature.”

There are four stages in Byron Katie’s The Work, a simple yet powerful process of inquiry that teaches you to identify and question the thoughts that cause your suffering. It’s a way to understand what’s hurting you, and to address the cause of your problems with clarity. In its most basic form, The Work consists of four questions and the turnarounds, and it is all completely free online. I am going to use one statement and go through the process as an example, but I do highly recommend you read more about it at the links provided. It really is a remarkable and most helpful concept.

I will use the previous example of me and my husband to demonstrate how The Work… works?

This is my thought: When my husband breaks plans with me it is because he does not want to spend time with me.

Step 1 of The Work: Complete the Judge-Your-Neighbor Worksheet. “For thousands of years we’ve been told not to judge—but let’s face it, we do it all the time. We all have judgments running in our heads. Through The Work we finally have permission to let those judgments speak out, or even scream out, on paper. We may find that even the most unpleasant thoughts can be met with unconditional love.” – Byron Katie

Using my example, statement #1 on the worksheet would read: I am angry with Mike because he doesn’t want to spend time with me. I would continue filling out the worksheet, writing down how I want him to change, what I want him to do, etc. This is the time to let it all out and really think about how this thought makes you feel and be completely honest with yourself about what you think you need and how you feel about the person you are having this thought about.

You only need to ask this one if you answer “yes” to #1. If you said yes, this allows you a chance to dig deeper. Is it really really true?

How do I react when I think that thought? 

Angry, hurt, lonely, abandoned, accusatory, insecure, unworthy of affection, closed off to compromise and discussion (to name a few).

Who would I be without the thought?

Willing to listen, willing to compromise, rational, patient, understanding, secure.

Example: Mike doesn’t want to spend time with me.  

“Until you can see the enemy as a friend, your Work is not done. This doesn’t mean that you have to invite your enemy to dinner. Friendship is an internal experience. You may never see the person again, you may even divorce him or her, but as you think about the person, are you feeling stress or peace?” -Byron Katie

I walked through a brief example of The Work because I truly believe it is a helpful exercise. Byron Katie has so many wonderful videos of her going through The Work with people regarding all different stories: a woman who lost her daughter in a car accident who couldn’t figure out how to say she would ever look forward to losing her daughter again, a man who hates his cancer and cannot figure out how to turn that around, a son who wants his Mom to be happy and has his own thoughts about what happiness means.

The Work is another tool for your toolbox. Be aware of the stories you’re telling yourself. Ask yourself if they are true. Turn them around, and work toward peace.

I never liked my own company much. Spending time alone was an unfortunate last resort; something I did when there was absolutely no other option. Even then, I usually just slept that time away rather than hang out with myself. Furthermore, I detested being home. When I was younger I thought everyone was doing something better than me; that I was left out or lame if faced with nothing to do/nowhere to go. When I was a tween/teenager, I rode my bike around town or hung out in parks until company arrived. It got me out of the house, at least. I only felt at ease when it poured rain, when my friends had family functions, or were away. I didn’t have to worry about what they were doing, and why I wasn’t included.

Once I got my license, I drove around killing time, looking for something to do or somewhere to go, even traveling an hour to get some coffee rather than sit at home. Once I turned 21, I hung out in bars. Destroying my liver in the midst of company was certainly better than being alone on a Saturday night feeling pathetic and wrestling with my own thoughts.

Looking back on my life, I was almost always out, almost always with someone, always had a boyfriend, always going, always doing. If I didn’t know better I would say I was popular and had a blast. The truth is, I was desperate and clingy and insecure. I often found myself in trouble and had a lot of anxiety. I never said no to anything, afraid that passing up offers jeopardized future invites. I realize now what was really going on. I was afraid — afraid of abandonment and exclusion; afraid of missing out; afraid of being home where life was unpredictable and stressful; afraid of being alone with someone I didn’t like, that person being me.

I was really pretty pathetic to an embarrassing degree. I would have been much better off had I just relied on the company of my books.

With maturity I learned I wasn’t missing out on anything. When you hang out with the same people in the same places, things become fairly predictable and routine. With confidence came the ability to say no without thinking it would hurt me in some way. With self-love has come the capacity to actually enjoy my own company.

I only realized this past weekend that I am beginning to like me. I was on a date at the time.

The date started late Friday morning with a drive to my favorite beach listening to music with the windows down and sunroof open. We swam, we read, we relaxed in the sun, taking in the sounds and scents. Then I got hungry so we headed out for a late lunch. I thought something simple would suffice but then I spotted a Greek restaurant that had a lovely lunch and wine menu and outdoor seating so we didn’t feel under dressed in our beach clothes. We started with wine imported from Greece, hummus and the best pita bread I ever tasted in my life. It was warm and fragrant and tasted citrusy, yet earthy and salty. For the main course we enjoyed a feta and watermelon salad.

Once we finished eating, I sat back, sighed, and brought a smile to my lips. I was inebriated on good wine and food and a fun day in the sun. I looked out over the ocean and felt happy… content. I was having a wonderful time. I took out my book and picked up where I left off while I finished my wine. My date didn’t mind. My date was me.

After my lunch I read in the pool for hours until my husband arrived. Shortly, our good friend would arrive for the weekend, too. The guys had plans and although I love hanging out with them and was welcome, I had plans of my own to go full moon kayaking on a guided tour.

Sitting in my kayak later that night in the inky black water beneath a blanket of stars I was fully aware of how content I felt. I have been vacationing with friends every summer for many years and never have I gone off and done anything on my own. In fact, I often struggled to entertain myself waiting for them to wake up in the mornings. I confess I even stayed up past the point of exhaustion at times just so I wouldn’t miss a laugh. Here I was happily doing something I was excited about and looked forward to. Many times in my life I forfeited things I wanted to do in favor of what others wanted so I could be with the group. But finally, there were no more stories in my head. I didn’t assume the guys were having a better time without me. I didn’t think I was missing out. I definitely wasn’t. I was kayaking through unspoiled marshlands in water so smooth it reflected an unblemished moon with the only audible sound being that of the crickets. I was perfectly happy being out there alone.

I found myself with the opportunity to enjoy some solitary time the following two days. I read, I swam, I floated. I had no resentments, no insecurities, no anxieties, no fears. It was a wonderful weekend and we all had a great time doing all the things we wanted. I even took a lovely walk while waiting for the guys to wake up.

See the photo below? I always called this sandbar that appears during low tide in our favorite secret spot Lonely Island. My friend snapped this photo of me alone reading on Lonely Island.

Only I wasn’t at all lonely.

Sitting playfully in six inches of saltwater, a beer in one hand and a book in the other, I turned my face up to the sun, smiled and thought to myself, life is good. It was an incredible day and I was at peace.

Taking a little break from paddleboarding, not a care in the world.

That was Friday.

But Saturday found me not once, but twice, sitting in my parked car in locations nearly 70 miles apart, sobbing. There was no peace.

How quickly things change.

A year ago I’d most likely have claimed the upsetting events of Saturday ruined my entire weekend, discrediting the joy and peace of Friday and casting a shadow over Sunday. But now I know better. Nothing can touch my Friday; it can never be altered. My days have explicit boundaries now.

As for Saturday, it was all my fault. I’m not going to go into what happened here. There were so many contributing factors, but in the end, the bottom line is that I did not mentally prepare and I went into the day with expectations. I was not compassionate, or forgiving, or patient, or the person I want to be. No matter what happened, I had the power to not let it affect me so greatly, regardless of how much I was weakened by other external circumstances. That is where I failed. The person I am trying to be/want to be and the person I was/am collided in a battle royale as my thoughts duked it out. My more practiced, more powerful, defensive angry self ate my weaker, gentler self for breakfast. Part of the later upset stemmed from fear. I hadn’t felt this angry and hopeless in a long time – the darkness inside me was menacing. As my thoughts darkened, my emotions strengthened, racking my body with turbulence.

“Your emotions are the slaves to your thoughts, and you are the slave to your emotions.” -Elizabeth Gilbert

Finally, the exhaustion of my eyelids from a day’s worth of squeezing tears down my cheeks got the best of me and I fell asleep, putting the day forever behind me. But not before I apologized.

Sunday the battle between old and new, negative and positive waged on with early points going to Gentle Jessica for rising early and sitting in her favorite chair with a book, and even making a healthy breakfast. Dejected Jessica made frequent appearances on the couch, mindlessly channel surfing, daydreaming of potato chips, and shedding the occasional tear.

I’d force myself up, accomplish a relatively small task, and find myself back on the couch. I used my judgement and had a guilt-free, albeit large lunch. Back to the couch. I forced myself to pull some weeds, clean out my car. Couch.

Finally, mid-afternoon in a herculean showing, I decided a hard workout at the gym was exactly what I needed. Furthermore, it would force me to shower. And if I was showered, why not go to weekly meditation group? If I was driving past Whole Foods on the way home, why not stop for some fresh produce to ensure a healthy start to the week? There was no reason why not, so I did all those things, proving to myself that I can move on; I CAN do what’s best for me.

Saturday may have gone to Dejected Jessica, but I took home the win on Sunday. Friday’s showing of bravery and athletic ability in the water, friendship, relaxation, laughter, and peace received a million points, breaking the tie.

Not every day will be good. What matters is that we value the good days and hold them in our hearts, and bounce back from the bad ones having learned a new lesson (or several). As for me, I learned that I can accept full responsibility for my actions and stop blaming others. Also, that I have the power to break the destructive cycle of giving in to misery and take steps to do what is best for me. I wouldn’t know these two things right now if I wasn’t given the opportunity to discover them.

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.