An Obsession with being Compulsive

I have to get pretty beaten down before I let something affect me. So it's no surprise to me that "compulsive" is used to describe my overeating. When I set my mind to do something I become totally OBSESSED with it. I go above and beyond in every aspect possible. I will push and shove until I reach my goals. When I get to the point that my efforts become futile and external circumstances hinder me from reaching my perceived end result, it isn't pretty for anyone involved. I will push a barrel of bricks uphill for as long as I can. It will take something major happening for me to let it go. I have to be devastated repeatedly before I will give up. It is exhausting. While I am in said uphill battle, I totally forget that I have obsessive compulsive disorder, which is extremely dangerous. From work, to personal relations, to losing weight... It is nearly impossible for me to function like a normal human being. I want everything to be perfect, no glitches, no mistakes. And when my mental, physical, and emotional efforts prove useless, that barrel of bricks comes crashing down on everything and everyone involved in my efforts. Once I reach this point, it is nearly impossible for me to try again. I have seen it happen too many times. I become complacent and all the passion and energy I invested in it is either gone for good or transferred to my next obsession.

 Long time ago my mother told me about the first time she knew I had OCD: I was a toddler. She was in grad school (for a Ph.D. in therapy, by the way) and I was in one of her professor's offices. While no one was looking, I apparently re-organized all of her professor's books by color. I put all the reds together on the bookshelf, the greens, the blues, etc... It only got worse as I got older. I still have to have everything in my house in perfect order. I share a desk at work with multiple people and it absolutely drives me mad!

 I keep fighting with my compulsive behaviors with my losing weight efforts. It seems like I am so close, then BOOM! Brick wall. If I was HALF as obsessed with exercising as I was with wondering where my next meal is going to come from, I would be in a much better place.

I found this excerpt in a notepad I had laying around:

"I have just felt so horrible and fat and gross all day. I feel like my throat is gonna get swallowed up by my double chin. Disgusting. I keep wondering how I would feel had I NOT binged last night."

I don't know when I wrote this, or what I binged on the night before. What I DO know is that the after effects of a binge are the same. It doesn't matter if I ate an entire pizza before bed, or got drunk and ate Taco Bell at 3am... I feel horrible and crappy the next day. 

"Much as we hate to admit it, an honest review of our behavior as compulsive overeaters shows clearly that in spite of the strongest resolve to stop overeating, we continue. Night after night we go to bed gorged and disgusted; we get up the next morning full of undigested food and fresh determination to maintain control; and before the day is over, we have done it again. No amount of willpower can pull us out of the quicksand." --Elisabeth L., "Twelve Steps for Overeaters."

Step One of "Overeaters Anonymous" explains in detail why willpower is not enough. "We admitted we were powerless over food- that our lives had become unmanageable." What does this step mean for you? For me it means that I am controlled by an obsession with food. I will find myself in the drive through or at the grocery store without a solid memory of making a conscious decision to be there. It means that some piece of food is in my mouth before I even had time to think before I eat. 

Eventually this loss of power over food will make you hit rock bottom. My rock bottom has happened several times, but I always manage to get back on my feet again, only to slowly but surely sink back to the lowest of the lows. Remember: fat is a SYMPTOM of our illness. Fat is not the reason we're sick. I know I repeat this in every blog, but food addicts are no different that alcoholics or meth heads. The symptoms of addiction are not the problem. Our illness is the problem. My symptoms? Obesity, bad skin, indigestion, heart problems, PCOS, high blood pressure, depression, unstable emotions, extreme anxiety, sleep apnea, and general bitchiness. I'm like a ticking time bomb for a life-threatening disease. 

I love Elisabeth L.'s description on how recovery begins: "Recovery begins when we admit defeat and declare bankruptcy." What a concept: Declare 'bankruptcy' to begin recovering. Wipe everything out and start all over. Never you mind all of the things in your past that haven't worked. This is a new solution to the problem. Let the barrel of bricks go; start a new battle. 

I have made remarkable steps in my food addiction recovery. Really my main problem now is binging when I get home from work. That has always been my main problem, but I have learned to manage a lot of my other bad habits. I am so unhappy with my work schedule (the schedule, not the job itself), that I get all in a tizzy at work because some random something leads me to get depressed and angry and anxious every night. I work Mon-Fri until 10:30 at night. The worst schedule known to man. I feel like I am so deprived of so many great things I could be doing with my life. I see my friends out at dinner, at wine club, book club, evening bike rides, at a concert, etc... and I get so down! I have a high stress job, so the first thing I want to do when I get off is... eat! binge! drown my sorrows in something crunchy, cheesy, and salty. I do it so that all of the other emotions of the evening will disappear. Then I move on to new emotions: guilt, regret, and shame. Which makes things worse. 

Even though I feel like I have pinpointed an exact reason for one of my compulsive overeating behaviors, that circumstance is impossible to change. My hours will not change unless I get a new job. So since this is not something I am willing to do, I am learning what can be changed inside when external conditions cannot be changed. 

Guilt, regret, shame: the 3 emotions I like to call the "maskoteers." They stick together and they're tough as hell. They're basically all the same word, but with slight variations, Shame tends to mean that you know you did something wrong. Guilt means you don't feel great about a decision because someone probably got the shaft. (That person is usually you when it comes to your food addiction). Regret is the worst of them all. Regret takes your past and throws it in front of you every chance it can so that you never move on. These emotions mask what is really going on and they hinder your ability to recover. They are coming straight from that "dealer" inside your head. Your dealer wants to keep you down. Who makes good decisions when they're riddled with negative emotions? I know I don't. If I'm feeling shameful and regretful, I am not going to get off my couch. But if I'm feeling proud and happy, I am motivated to get up and move forward with the next healthy decision that is waiting for me.

My pastor (Pete Wilson) has a great saying: "Your past is not your past if it's still impacting your present. If you don't learn to transform the pain, you'll just transfer it." He also says that our past will determine how we respond to similar situations in the future. I interpret this to mean that if regret, shame, and guilt are still attached to your past, it will be nearly impossible to change how you react in the future. The maskoteers have got to go. Throw them out the window. They are toxic. Replace your memories, trick your dealer... tell yourself that you are truly grateful and pleased that you made mistakes in the past. You've been there done that so that your future can only get better! 

When I wake up feeling determined that TODAY will be the day that my journey continues towards the light and not the dark, I make a plan. I get excited about the plan and I feel great. But then the MINUTE by plan gets interrupted, I spiral downwards. My obsessiveness and compulsiveness start doing their thing and I lose all control. Then I start to feel: shameful, guilty, and regretful that I am not following my plan. Which makes my dealer happy, and the next thing I know, I am going to visit him on the corner of Taco Bell and Pizza Hut. 

I honestly don't think that there is a "cure" for compulsive overeating, but I think that setting rules, allowing slips, and reminding myself that it's okay to stray a little will help me stop obsessing over every little thing I do wrong and focus on what I am doing right! 

My Last Nerve

I officially hate airplanes.

No, I am not scared of flying, or of heights, or of the chance of spotting a "sign" hidden in a crop circle that will cause a white girl with greasy black hair to emerge from my television and kill my family -- I love that part. I just hate everything else about them. 

The delays, the steadily declining customer service, the seats that are just too damn small, the inconsistency of the length of the seat belts (will I need an extender this time or will I be saved the embarrassment?), the medical emergency where I think I'm dying...

You read that right. 

I had a medical emergency this week as I was flying back from L.A.

War Eagle, btw- I was there for the National Championship game.  I wish I could blame the emergency on the heartbreaking loss of my Auburn Tigers, but I had sympoms leading up to the game that I chose to ignore. Like an idiot. 

At the end of last week I had some really weird feelings in my chest and left arm and a racing heartbeat, even when I was just sitting still. I'm a pretty anxious person anyways, so I figured it was just nerves of paying the bills and the trip out to Cali, so I chose to ignore it.

Come Saturday night, the first night of the trip, I woke up to a scary moment: I felt like I was falling off the bed and both of my arms were cold and asleep. I wasn't falling off the bed. I was completely still.Again, I ignored it, went back to sleep, and partied on in L.A. the next day.

Sunday and Monday: dizziness, racing heart, chest pain, tingling limbs. Ignored. 

Helloooo Beverly Hills! Well color me happy! There's a sofa in here for two! (sorry, I had to)

Tuesday: I'm feeling extremely weird and I tell myself that I am going to Vanderbilt's ER the minute I land in Nashville. I was praying that I would just make it back home. On the plane from L.A. to Seattle my left arm went completely numb and my chest felt like it was exploding. My heart was racing 90 to nothing, and my blood pressure skyrocketed to hypertension emergency level. My face went numb, I felt like firecrackers were going off in my eyeballs, my thighs were cold, and other random parts of my body were falling asleep. 

 The flight attendant had to page out for "medical personnel on board" and we had to do a special landing so I could get on an ambulance. The most embarrassing time of my life. My mom was freaking out that it was signs of diabetes, which in turn got me worried. I started freaking out that I had contracted diabetes and that it was too late- my arm was going to have to be cut off, along with all the other parts of my body that were numb. She told the flight attendant to get me some orange juice, but as I was semi-out of it, I somehow knew that all I needed was water. I refused the OJ. Once we landed, the flight attendant had to page out that there was an ambulance meeting us and that everyone needed to stay put until I got off the plane. 

HOW EMBARRASSING. 

I have never felt so bad about myself in my entire life. My mother is worried to death that I am entering a diabetic coma-- I felt so guilty, and still do, for putting her through that. The look on her face as I was in the ambulance absolutely broke my heart.

Our bodies are so brilliant. I knew that this episode had nothing to do with my glucose level. I don't know how, but I just did. I knew it was heart/blood pressure related. I could feel it. I thought I was having a stroke or a heart attack. 

Once we get in the ambulance they checked my blood pressure (which had scooted down to a nice "low" of 152/108 by that time), my glucose, tested the circulation of the blood in my left arm (the numb one), and a bunch of other tests to see what was going on. Luckily they did not see any signs of a stroke or heart attack, or blood clots, or anything that required an immediate trip to the emergency room. The left arm numbness is still a mystery, but one of the medics felt as if it could have been from nerve damage. They suggested I get some rest and see my regular doctor as soon as I could. The blood pressure was the main concern- it had to come down or I could suffer from some very serious organ damage should it get that high again.

We still had to fly from Seattle to Atlanta, then from there to Nashville. I was worried to death about the long flight, but there was nothing we could do. Since the polar bear vortex of death had all of America delayed and jammed up, we had several hours to decompress before the flight from SeaTac to ATL. But the minute we got in the air my left arm fell asleep. I took lots of deep breaths, and drank gallons of cold water. I kept my blood pressure down through silently meditating and praying. 

My left arm was asleep for the entire 4 hour flight.

P.S. those medics in Seattle were the sexiest men I've ever seen. 

Wednesday: I saw my doctor. I've lost 6 pounds since the last time I saw her! Blood pressure was 142/106. A little better, but alarming enough that she prescribed me blood pressure medicine. Then came the: "A person in their 20s has no business being on blood pressure medicine lecture." They did an immediate EKG and scheduled me for a cardio stress test and an echo. They also took my blood to examine for a bunch of other stuff. Doc thinks that I have a pinched nerve in my neck that caused the arm numbness, which led me to freak out, which skyrocketed my blood pressure, and being in a plane didn't help. Since both she and the medic believe that the arm numbness is coming from some sort of nerve damage, I feel slightly less paranoid that I have some serious underlying condition. Nonetheless, she is worried about my heart, my high blood pressure, and wants to make absolutely sure that there aren't any blocked arteries, or weird heart diseases causing the tingling, dizziness, racing heart beat, and all-around funkiness. 

Friday: I go in for the cardio stress test and the echo. Blood results came back normal all-around. Whew! Stress test consisted of weird breathing exercises through torture-chamber looking equipment, and riding on a stationary bike. The echo was basically an ultrasound for my heart. It was awkward and weird, and I hated it. Both results should come back at the beginning of the week. I was diagnosed with Mitral Valve Prolapse several years ago after overdosing on diet pills as a college cheerleader, so I'm scared that led to more serious heart problems as I gained weight. But hey, I've got all weekend to obsess and worry about what the results will be, so why get into all that tonight? ;)

It's so frustrating for me right now because I've lost 50 pounds, but yet these symptoms are just now showing up. I am currently prescribed to FOUR medications to treat the symptoms of my obesity: blood pressure, anxiety, and PCOS. Being overweight is slowly but surely killing me. Once I lose weight, these symptoms will go away and I will no longer have to be on medicine! As far as the frustration goes, I had to remind myself that symptoms of any disease or addiction are patient. A meth head doesn't lose all their teeth after getting high one time. An alcoholic doesn't have liver damage after getting drunk one time. An obese person doesn't develop high blood pressure and sleep apnea after binging for the first time. The symptoms slowly build up and if not managed, they will develop into diseases that will kill you.

Lately I have been showing out like crazy- drinking too much, not exercising like I should, binging, and eating portions big enough for a megalodon. These habits have been increasing my blood pressure and causing me anxiety because I know better. I honestly feel like this pinched nerve in my neck/arm, or whatever, was a sign that I have got to get better. If I had not felt my arm go numb, I would have had no idea that my blood pressure in that plane was at an emergency level that needed medical attention. The plane increased my blood pressure, and having the left side of my body go numb was my body's way of saying: 

HEY! You're literally getting on your heart's last nerve. 

And you will die. 

If the whole plane debacle had not have happened, I sure as hell would not have gone to the doctor; ergo... my scary high blood pressure would have gone unnoticed for who knows how long.

I don't think that we are given many chances in this life, and we have to be aware of the signs in front of us. Never again will I ignore what my body is trying to tell me. If we had not landed when we had, my hypertension emergency level blood pressure would have caused permanent organ damage.I could have died. Until I know what is going on with my heart right now, I am also thinking grateful thoughts that this happened, or I would not have gotten my heart checked out. 

If you think you might have high blood pressure, I suggest going to a pharmacy and checking it (most have free machines). Here is the American Heart Association's website- a great resource for learning about blood pressure. Understanding Blood Pressure