Author Archives: DocScout11

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About DocScout11

I am an actress and writer with a PhD in Theatre & Drama.

The Daily Grind: Binge Eating Aftermath

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I couldn’t seem to get myself to write yesterday. I binged intensively and I was consumed by the mind chatter that accompanied it. I couldn’t even write in my journal, a place I can usually find comfort through writing. I felt numb, sad, and deeply consumed by fear and desire. It felt like a bizarre kind of mixture between self-love and self-hate. I was aware I was binge eating, and of the fact that I was choosing to do it. I felt rebellious, rebel angry as I call it. I knew eating wasn’t satisfying my compulsive feelings but I didn’t stop, I didn’t want to stop. I could have stopped. I could have, but that would have required a return to dieting mentality.

This binge wasn’t like others from my past. It was similar in that it felt secretive, flippant, numbing, and strangely freeing but it was also somehow a response to the experience of non-dieting… a response to the intuitive eating “rule” that I only get to eat when I’m hungry.

It is a reaction to the non-dieting books I’ve been reading. Maybe it’s a reaction to giving up dieting again as they propose, but I don’t think so. I’ve been on the anti-diet train for quite some time and finding success, awareness, and compassion. Then I read Josie Spinardi’s This Side Out: How to Have Your Cake and Your Skinny Jeans Too, which led me to revisit Overcoming Overeating and Intuitive Eating. These books reminded me of all of their suggestions on how I might “fix my problem” including filling my shopping basket with “legal foods” and eating at the table without distractions.

Here’s the grind: All of a sudden I’m berating myself… “you’re not putting that box of cookies into your basket… don’t you want to legalize that?” or “you’re not really doing a good job at hunger-directed eating unless you sit at the table and eat mindfully. It’s not healthy to get online or watch TV when you eat your lunch!” It’s almost comical, I realize I’ve been having these thoughts ever since I finished Josie’s book! Not that it’s not worth reading but I’m curious about my reaction to it. What’s interesting is she even talks about the tendency to make and break rules. (All of these authors do) It’s funny because the relationship to my inner little girl, with her sass and her ribbon- clad pig-tails says, “Screw you! I can do what I want!” My conversations with her are reverting to a battle of wills instead of listening to her with compassion, hearing her, and asking her to work with me. So, this leads me back to the daily work of cultivating awareness, compassion, and curiosity.

I believe that the mind, body, and environment are interconnected. I believe they constantly work as one unit whether we want them to or not. The school of thought that persists in our society… that our mind controls our body, and that we can choose to not be affected by our environment is denying an entire body of knowledge that is available to us. A way of understanding our relationship to the world, to each other, and to ourselves. There are many reasons for this denial, but that’s a whole other conversation. I’m interested in paying attention to this interconnectedness via my senses and my emotions. I think they will tell me things that can help me quiet the mind chatter and the compulsive urge to binge eat. I think that the more I listen, the closer we will become to working together.

I’m not saying that thought isn’t a part of the equation. Thought is incredibly powerful, but I must listen to my whole self, and that means cultivating an intensive awareness. An awareness of the languages that are not verbal, not based in written or rational form. When our hand nears something hot, it’s our bodies that signal our brain. Our senses have a way of speaking that is largely unexplored and I think they may have some useful information.

Today I woke up curious about why I binged …because I’ve been practicing curiosity. I woke up reminding myself that I wasn’t any fatter today than I was yesterday because I’ve been practicing compassion. And… I woke up aware that the blanket covering me was warm and cozy …because I’ve been practicing awareness. These sensations have information in them that I can’t articulate in words, but I can tell you that they were a welcome sense of acceptance in the aftermath of the binge eating war I had yesterday.

Here’s to blogging about the whole experience! Cheers!

The Daily Grind: Sweet Madness

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In my recent work to “legalize food” (Overcoming Overeating) or trek through the “Donuts and Doritos” phase (Thin Side Out), I came to the realization that when I am physically hungry I rarely (almost never) want sweets, but my “mouth hunger” (OO)/ “non-hunger eating” (TSO) seriously wants some ice cream. I even went back to Baskin Robbins today to get three (count them… THREE!) quarts of my favorite ice cream so I would feel like I had plenty.

This paradox is such a rip-off! I hate when I clearly know that my body wants protein, or carbs, or veggies, but my diet monster wants ice cream. AHH! So, I ate some today, but of course my body feels unsatisfied because really, it wants what it was signaling. UGH!

I realize that feeding the whole self is important; that I need to find a way to satiate both my physical hunger and “mouth hunger.” I decided to take a cue from Overcoming Overeating and see if there is something that happened in my day that may have made me uncomfortable. I try to remember when I started to obsess about having ice cream…

Here’s the grind: …it was just after I got home for lunch. I had been taking photos for a special awards slideshow presentation. It is going to play while they discuss the program I was instrumental in creating as one of the reasons my division is receiving this fancy award. So far it’s great right?! Well, they tell me that they’d like to get some action photos. I say, “Okay, but that’s not what we do at all.” They don’t seem to care much. They just want generic photos of me interacting with the students. No one seems to care that the program I helped create isn’t being accurately represented. I care! This is the rub. This is why I start thinking about a mug of Baskin Robbins chocolate and peanut butter ice cream on my way home.

Of course it gets more complex…I’m hungry for lunch, which makes it seem easier, but physiologically I want protein and salad. I think, “Come on! Really?!”  …I eat ice cream. I am comforting myself and eating because I am hungry. I don’t feel satiated afterwards. No surprise there. I feel like overeating. That feeling of “no food can quite fill this hunger” is happening and I notice it. I go through the typical self battle about why I should or shouldn’t eat. I eat. I am angry and I don’t feel like I have a right to be, which makes me feel like I am “being dramatic,” so I eat. Sigh. Whether or not I’m in the right doesn’t matter. What matters is that I recognize why I am feeling compulsive. That perfectionist little pig-tailed rebel wants control over every situation and feels sorry for herself when she doesn’t have it. So, she wants an ice cream to comfort her. I have compassion for her so I feed her. Now I just need to find another way to soothe her. It’s a relief to discover the pathway because it helps me build a new one.

The Daily Grind: Eating Other People’s Emotions

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Today, I spend my day preparing my food for the week ahead. Throughout the day, I receive five phone calls from different close friends and family about serious circumstances; circumstances about health and relationships. I am a good friend. It is important to me to spend time talking to each of them.

Here’s the Grind: As I am listening to each one I realize that I am walking around my kitchen picking at the scones that are cooling on top of the stove. Then, I notice that I am standing at the refrigerator picking at the bowl of fresh berries. Then a bit later I open the bag of salt and vinegar chips in the pantry. I recognize that I am eating when I am not hungry at this point. What’s interesting to me, is that I didn’t notice when I was “testing” the scones or eating the “healthy” berries. I noticed when I was eating the chips.

Two things come to mind. First, clearly chips are still not “legal” in my mind. Second, my empathy for my loved ones creates a need for comfort or soothing, and clearly it is a kind of comfort/soothing that I don’t know how to give myself yet. So I turn to my old standard …eating. Next step: get some sleep and try to imagine what might soothe me besides food.

The Daily Grind: Baskin Robbins

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So …I’m at Baskin Robbins tonight because I am, once again, allowing myself to “legalize food” (Overcoming Overeating) or going through the “Donuts and Doritos” phase (Thin Side Out). I am hungry so I’m excited to eat this. I have been brain-craving it for a few days so I am finally going to give it to myself.

Here’s the grind:  When I walk in I see the waffle cones and really want one. I have a long debate with myself about getting it or not, and decide against it because if I get the waffle cone and the ice cream I am just going too far! The calories! The points! The fat! In other words… The diet! the diet! the diet! My diet monster is raging!!! But the little girl, who seems to represent me in these situations, is begging for that cone! I decide against it again. Boy that diet monster has muscle! And …once again I am denying her/myself. Somehow, I feel disappointed in the experience with this decision but at least I am still getting the ice cream.

Then a miracle happened.

My friend who is with me orders a sundae. A SUNDAE!!! WHAT?! I have a moment of bliss! I think… I could have a sundae! …whoa. Then I realize… I don’t want a sundae… I want a waffle cone!

but of course it can’t be that easy. The waffle cones are too big for my taste. I want one, but not that big. I think… “they are too big.” I must have said it out loud because the ice cream cashier asks me if I want a sugar cone because they are smaller. I then realize that I have said it allowed and she is just trying to help me get what I want. I feel a pressure to decide so she can get to her other customers. Then I remember that I don’t have to eat it all. I do have to manage the guilt I have about consciously ordering too much food that I can’t take home, but it is worth it to me to have what I want. I also realize that, actually, that guilt is serving another purpose as well. It is a recognition that my body has a clear sense of the amount of food I need to consume to feel satisfied.

So I do just that. I eat the ice cream cone until I am satisfied and then throw the rest away. Liberating. A little sad I have to toss the cone but it’s okay. Maybe next time I will bring the cone home, and keep it in a baggie and crush it with my next scoop. The curiosity I am cultivating is making me creative… hum… this is feeling pretty good.

Josie Spinardi’s book Thin Side Out

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I finished reading Josie Spinardi’s Thin Side Out: How to Have you Cake and Your Skinny Jeans Too. 

Here’s what I posted as a review on Amazon:

This book is like a bite-sized version of Overcoming Overeating (A LOT of her techniques are from this book- she just re-labels them- ie. “hunger directed eating” is “demand feeding”- not sure she’s read their work though, since she doesn’t credit them at all), also- Geneen Roth’s works (which she does credit), Intuitive Eating and a host of other books dedicated to kicking dieting to the curb and figuring out how to feed yourself from physiological signals again (or from your “thin-telligence” as she cutely terms it). It has been a while since I read any of the aforementioned books and I’ve sworn off dieting at least twice only to return to the pressure. I was hoping for a new perspective but only received a booster shot from the “diets don’t work” camp.
That being said, this book did inspire me to return to a diet-free/natural-path of feeding myself. The concepts presented aren’t new to anyone who’s been looking into this line of thinking for a while, but she did do a few interesting things that I found insightful including: reframing “non-hunger related eating” as a psychological symptom of dieting. I like how she consistently asks the reader to recognize that. Though others have exposed this, she cuts to the chase about it in a fun and personal way, and works to build your confidence; reminding you that you can, in fact, figure it out. Thanks Josie!
I find this journey to be intensely personal, which this book shows but doesn’t address, and while reading it was inspiring and served as a well-intentioned reminder to trust my body, it didn’t give me a lot of new “how to” tools as I had hoped. I’m a fan of finding things that motivate me so I recommend this book.
I gave it four stars because it’s only available on kindle as mentioned by a ton of other reviewers- … but also because so much of this book was a condensed appropriation of many other people’s work that she presents as some kind of revolutionary thinking.
Overall- if you’re new to the “stop dieting” discourse this will give you an overview and inspire you to go for it. If you’d like a quirky booster shot that’s a quick read- this will do it the trick. It’s definitely geared toward the upper middle class (as suggested by a different viewer) but the basic concepts are useful to think about for a majority of readers.

The Doughnut Dilemma

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At work the other day one of my favorite staff members alerted me to a box of doughnuts down the hall next to the kitchen area. It was about ten in the morning and I had eaten breakfast and done yoga already. I had a cup of coffee that I was nursing as I worked, and the thought of dunking an old fashioned glazed doughnut began to consume me. I quickly decided against eating it because, after all, I already had a delicious breakfast, and I wasn’t hungry. If only that had been then end of my doughnut dilemma.

Instead, I debated with myself. My inner-rebel began to sweet talk me. I debated with myself about weather or not I should go down the hall and treat myself. Finally, after a ten-fifteen minute negotiation with myself I decided to see if my favorite kind was in the box. I had convinced myself that the battle would be worth having if my favorite kind was there. The things we tell ourselves…

So, I make my first trip down the hall to check out the doughnuts. There are about eight to ten doughnuts in the traditional pink box. There is one glazed old fashioned. ugh… I take a deep breath. Rebel me says, “Sweet! There is one! I LOVE those! Where are the napkins?”

I plead to my rebel self, “I don’t want it… I really don’t. I made us a delicious breakfast. Wasn’t it delicious? Remember? Poached egg, whole grain toast, and berries? Please don’t do this to me. I really want to lose weight.”

Rebel me says, “One doughnut isn’t going to make us gain weight! You’re making a big deal out of this. Seriously… it’s ONE doughnut.”

I breathe deeply not wanting to comply. I begin to feel like a nutcase and walk back to my desk. I sit at the computer and focus on my work. I tell my rebel to chill out for a few minutes and see if the compulsion passes.

Fifteen minutes later my rebel says, “I’m hungry. Don’t you feel that little pang in our stomach? It’s there. I feel it.”

I say, “No I don’t. You’re hungry for what? You can’t actually be hungry for a doughnut. You know this is about something else. We’ve had this conversation so many times.”

My coworkers near me hear me sigh but that’s all.

Inside my rebel says, Seriously, I just want a doughnut. It’s not that deep.” To which I reply, “Yes it is. I know you’re uncomfortable about something. Is it that you don’t want to be here working? What is it?” Rebel me is silent. Childlike. Angry. I breathe deeply. I don’t have time to sit and figure out why I want this doughnut so badly. I finish my coffee to the disappointment of my rebel. I tell her I can always go get another cup if I decide to have the doughnut. I start to feel embarrassed that I’m obsessing about this doughnut. I walk back down the hall to pretending that I just wanted to refill my water bottle but secretly I am checking if the old fashioned is still available for consumption.

I walk up and down that hallway every fifteen to twenty minutes, having a circular conversation with myself about weather to have, or not have, that doughnut for my entire four hour work session. I go through the whole gamut of excuses: the politics of fat and feminism, the ugliness of commercialism, the exercise-it-off debate, the count it on my weight watchers plan debate, and the just allow myself to have it so it won’t bother me debate (because clearly after several hours I still want it). I avoid it for four hours.

At 2pm it is time for me to leave. I take a final walk down the hall thinking I might bring the doughnut home and eat it when I am hungry. This is my final and seemingly most viable option to take the best care of myself. I would both, eat when I was actually hungry and have the doughnut. I get down to the box and stare at the doughnut.

I think, I have been in a knock-down drag-out fight with myself all morning about this little old fashioned doughnut. As I am looking for a napkin to take the doughnut with, I feel like I might cry. I am angry with myself. I am embarrassed that I have this compulsion. I feel sorry for myself. I decided to get off the pity pot right then and there. I turn to face my fats… I tell myself to be aware of the ground beneath my feet. I take a drink of water. I take my umpteenth deep breath and I ask myself for the deep-down truth. It comes… I don’t want it. In my disappointment I realize… I really want a nap, a good night’s sleep, a big hug from a friend, to not procrastinate on my dissertation writing today, to perform in a play, to be cast as a thin “regular-sized” woman, to not have the predictable health problems later in life, to lose weight and feel super sexy …and this freaking doughnut is not helping me! My rebel was right about all of her objections. All of the things she uses to rationalize with me are viable. I hear her, and I know she is me. She is the part of me that needs compassion and comfort who has practiced doing that with food her whole life.

I do not take the doughnut. I walk out to my car and I call a friend and tell her about the silliness that just ensued. We laugh about the trials of weight loss.

I get home and realize that I am now feeling an overwhelming compulsion to eat something else. I realize that making fun of my dilemma actually made it worse. I denied my rebel her rebellion and she is now raging. Not only that but I’m actually physically hungry for lunch!

I resolve to sit with her at home for ten minutes. I put my relaxation CD on and I tell her too feel anyway she wants and to just let me know what I can do to help her. I cry. I don’t know why. I cry hard. Then I feel better and laugh. I feel her and the compulsion relax. I promise to go to bed early and get a good night’s sleep. She is subsided and I am free of compulsion for the rest of the day. I eat a satisfying lunch and I feel successful.

That doughnut dilemma was just another part of the day. Don’t think it would have been any better if I had just eaten it. It simply would have been a different difficult conversation; the one where I beat myself up for not taking care of myself, or the one where I tell myself that I’m okay with it and I’ll run it off tomorrow. I am proud of how I dealt with it that day. Not because I didn’t eat the doughnut, though that is part of it, but because I decided to face the fats and just let myself be uncomfortable. I am proud because I breathed through the fear. These dilemmas happen to me almost daily. This was a particularly long one but still typical in it’s nature. It is sneaky, slick, and unrelenting. The more I practice dealing with them the better I get at understanding them. Slow and steady wins the race I suppose.

The Judgment Club

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For my first post I’d like to share a little story about my trip to Thanksgiving dinner. I had just boarded a flight to go see my family and a man sat down in my row. I had the window seat and he had the isle. He leaned over and said, “I hope no one has the seat in between us.” I said, “When I checked in yesterday there was no one sitting there but that was a while ago.” I felt friendly toward him because we both acknowledged how tiny these seats are and how nice it is when you have a little more room. He was an average size man, and I recently lost 30lbs (again) and am average sized myself.

A few minutes later a thin young blonde woman sat between us. The man leaned over and said to us, “At least none of us is really big. I hate it when I have to sit next to…” I didn’t hear the rest of his sentence because my anger and disappointment was consuming my entire being. This man who had shared my opinion about how nice it is to have room around you when you fly just lumped me into a category of opinion that enraged me. How could he think I would agree with him?! How could he think that I was the kind of person who was annoyed by sitting next to a fat person?! I was offended, and I had to figure out how to deal with it or I’d probably buy one of those expensive food boxes and consume my deep disappointment and anger. I found myself feeling conflicted about how to react to this moment. I wanted to scold this man for his lack of compassion, for his ignorance, but I also wanted a peaceful and relaxing flight. Was it worth my while to say something to him? If I did, would he argue with me? Would I seem like a righteous witch? Would he even hear what I said? I took several deep breaths. I couldn’t be a person who didn’t say anything. I couldn’t be a part of his judgment club. I was going to say something …and I needed courage.

As I breathed, I allowed myself to become more aware and more compassionate. I tried to have compassion for this man who offended me. I realized that he just wanted to connect, to bond. Granted, it was over something I disagreed with but I recognized that his intention was to make us feel good. I relaxed a little. The thin girl didn’t make a peep. My inner conflict was heating up and I knew I needed to speak.

I thought of one of my favorite quotes from Maggie Kuhn, “Stand before the people you fear and speak your mind –even if your voice shakes.” I did fear him. I feared his judgment and I feared his lack of compassion. So, I got centered from my heart and I said, “Well… I like it when bigger people sit next to me because it doesn’t really bother me. I figure they have enough pain and frustration having to stuff themselves into these teeny seats and they don’t need my judgment added to their experience.”

I was proud of myself. I had stood up for what I believed and I had done it with compassion. I spoke my mind even though I was nervous and uncomfortable and I had reminded him that we all deserve the room he desired no matter our size. The room we had both hoped to have when we first sat down.

He started back pedaling. He said, “Oh I know, it is difficult. These seats are too small.” I said, “Yeah.” That was all. We didn’t talk at all the rest of the flight but I didn’t feel any tension either. At the end of the flight we wished each other happy holidays and went on our separate ways.

I learned so much about myself in that moment. That man allowed me to see that one of my fears of losing weight was that people would assume that I judged fat people that way our society does. I feared that if I was thin, that I would be somehow be betraying other people who deal with fatness and overeating. I realized that if I am not overweight, I will be lumped into that category by many people whether I like it or not. I have accepted this as part of being thin. I just need to remember that when I become aware of this happening to me I can address it. I can speak my mind about it, and I will. What a relief.