Brick by Brick: Tearing Down Your Emotional Wall

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.

Lesson #1: Tear Down the Wall
Try to imagine a brick wall around you – a wall of flesh and thoughts built by your subconscious mind. Residing in this wall are all your fears; of people and of life itself. Looking closely, you see that every brick has something written on it. Words like: shame, anger, embarrassment, selfishness, jealousy, inferiority, pressure.
According to Williamson, our bodies are “merely a screen onto which is projected the nature of [our] thoughts. When the weight is gone from [our] consciousness, it will be gone from [our] physical experience.”
We’ve all used the expression ‘heavy heart’ or ‘heavy mind.’ Maybe it’s possible that heaviness translates to actual weight as life adds more to our proverbial plates.
“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.

Admitting I Am an Emotional Overeater

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.

There's no denying that I am an emotional overeater. I've come to understand why and I am learning what to do about it so I can reclaim my life.  #weightloss

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.

Increasing the Happiness Baseline

All of our bodies have a weight at which it is most comfortable. This is called a set-point weight. We may not be comfortable at that weight and want to gain or lose some, but our body has adapted to life at that weight so it wants to stay there. It likes what it knows. The same goes for happiness. We all have a baseline level of happiness that fluctuates depending on our experiences. Eventually though, that level of happiness finds its way back to where it is most comfortable. To change either of these baselines takes consistency, discipline, and patience.

There are weeks when I exercise nearly every day, eat nothing but the right foods in the right quantities, and lose weight. Then I go out to dinner and splurge a little and like a rubber band, my weight stretches right back to its set-point weight, to the ounce. I am so used to seeing this particular number digitally displayed on the scale when I weigh myself on Friday mornings that I find myself shouting, “of course!” I’m not above giving it a swift kick either.

Happiness, on the other hand, is determined by one’s state of mind more than by external events. Pleasures like sex or enjoying a double bacon cheeseburger, or successes like promotions or completing a project, result in temporary feelings of elation, just like tragedies send us into periods of depression. But these emotions are outliers and sooner or later we all return to our overall baseline level of happiness; where we are most comfortable.

Psychologists call this process adaptation, and it is at work in our lives every day. An argument with a friend may send us into a foul mood, and a special gift may put us in a great mood, but within a few days, our spirits rebound up or down to our customary level of happiness. Research shows that this is the case even for lottery winners or terminal cancer patients, after an appropriate adjustment period.

Changing our weight is hard, sometimes really hard, but we know that it can be done. According to His Holiness the Dalai Lama, there are steps we can take to work with the “mind factor” to enhance our feelings of happiness. This is because our moment-to-moment happiness is largely determined by our outlook. Whether we are feeling happy or unhappy has little to do with our absolute conditions, but rather it is a function of how we perceive our situation and how satisfied we are with what we have.

Our feelings of contentment are strongly influenced by our tendency to compare. We compare our current situations to past situations, we compare ourselves to others, our current salary to what we think having a larger one would be like. Constant comparison with those who we think are smarter, thinner, or wealthier breeds envy, frustration and unhappiness. But we can use this principle in a positive way and increase our feeling of life satisfaction by comparing ourselves to those who are less fortunate than us and by reflecting on all the things we have.

Using my weight as an example, I do compare myself to women who are thinner and feel envious over the clothes they can wear that I can’t. Using comparison in a positive way, I can alleviate my frustrations and envy while working toward my weight loss goals by remembering that all over the world there are people who are starving. My weight indicates that I have access to an abundance of food, and the means to purchase it. That is a blessing.

Like changing your set point weight, changing your baseline level of happiness requires going out of your comfort zone, literally. It requires a change in thinking. An end to thinking about what we don’t have, and the start of focusing on what we do; an end to thinking about those who have more than us, and the start of thinking of those who have less.

This change in thinking will result in many positives, including an overall greater happiness.