Why is it such a big deal to so many people?
If you haven’t already, it’s time we started addressing our addictions.
I think a prime reason why I created this blog was to show others that it’s OK to be vulnerable. Or, at least, it should be OK. The world we live in is often so incredibly harsh and judgmental, and our lives are so busy that we aren’t given the proper time and resources to help heal our addictions. However, we all have at least one. You aren’t alone in your struggle.
Some addictions have a quicker road to death than others. Still, I can relate to an habitual drinker because I am an habitual eater for the same reasons. Life throws unexpected hurdles at us, often without relent. The need for control grows, and, unfortunately, our indulgences often become the only thing in which we have a say. We all have an addiction and, hopefully, we are learning how to overcome them.
For me personally, learning about myself has become one of the greatest thrills of my life.
DISCLAIMER: At the current moment, I cannot draw from research done by scientists or others who have gone to a university to study facets of mental and physical health like addiction. Actually, I could but I won’t. This isn’t that kind of blog. My life is already just oodles of classroom time.
My addiction to food has no exact start or end date. Food, for me, has always had a way of wrapping its arms around me. It has been an exceeding comfort. We’ve all had times in our lives when nothing could quite console us in the way we needed, right? Whether things went wrong or right, food has always been a top consideration, either for celebratory or soothing purposes.
This is how food became a big deal to me..
In my early teens, it seemed as if everything and everyone I had ever been accustomed to was stripped from me almost in an instant. My parents took me out of public school as well as the church of my early girlhood. Around the same time, I began to notice, though mostly subconsciously, that my older siblings had lives of their own and less time to spend with me. All of these situations aren’t inherently bad, they just weren’t done in ways a kid could fully grasp. What probably screwed it up the most, from my perspective, was that my parents, like most parents, weren’t entirely sure what they were doing in the moment. They were trying to do what they felt was right while figuring out their own feelings and coping with our changing family dynamic in their own way. While it wasn’t their intention, the change they put their children through, without fully explaining the whole situation to us, impacted us in ways they were too preoccupied to see.
You see, parents, kids notice and are affected by a whole lot more than you think.
A period of my life began when I had little to no grounding. I was flung into an emotional, spiritual limbo. I felt betrayed. An semi-emo version of Kate emerged (or maybe I was a normal, frumpy teenager but didn’t know it because I had no point of reference.) I listened to metal, even to fall asleep, because the screaming through the headphones became the only noise loud enough to drown out the noise in my head. Extra baggy sweaters were nearly my entire wardrobe. I felt alone. I was still too young to engage in the grownup problems surrounding me, though I was heavily affected by them. The past became my permanent residence.
I understand the reasons why my parents did what they did now… But gosh… as a kid… All I knew was that my world was being flipped upside down. It didn’t help to have constant pressure to do and be all that this world forces upon its young people before they’re ready. I already had trouble making friends due to shyness and low self-esteem. Imagine how confused I was when the friends I did have suddenly weren’t around anymore.
This is why my mid-teenage years are a flat-out blur. It seemed the only thing I was good for was eating all that I was given and more. I ate everything my sister couldn’t due to allergies. I was a vacuum cleaner, like teen-age Monica Geller when her parents offered her the remaining Thanksgiving pies because there was no more room in the fridge. I knew I had a problem but zero solutions. The fondest and clearest memory of those years was playing pretend restaurant with my sister and our home school companion. Surprisingly, I was always the hostess, not the customer. Apart from that, those years were worth little to me except a skip button.
Food had always been the one thing I could depend on since my earliest years. At times it was the only appeaser of strong, haughty, fretful emotions, the only way to bring those I knew and loved together. We all enjoyed food. (Who doesn’t?) I usually couldn’t wait for my next meal or snack; they were the highlight of my day. Since forever, I’ve easily eaten enough for four people. But food took a whole new meaning for me when I began earning my own money.
For the first time in my life, I had a say in what filled the gap in my soul.
For someone who had no say in anything truly important, the ability to walk out of a Walmart with a bag full of Reese’s candies is unmatched.
I should point out that this was around the time when I began participating in theatre productions, so my world was finally expanding in other ways, too. Of course, ultimately, junk food is less of a hassle and not as expensive.
This was only the beginning of a story that does indeed get brighter.
It’s clear now that becoming an addict doesn’t have to involve devastating tragedies. It isn’t always caused by a loved one passing away or doesn’t always implicate engaging with the wrong crowd. A crucial piece of you just has to be missing. However, sudden, serious changes of scenery, as well as changes in how loved ones get along with each other is aggrandized in the eyes of a naive youngster.
Food became what I depended on to lift my mood. I used it to feel something that I can put a name to. I wasn’t sure what was going on around me but I understood when I was full and when I needed a nap. I naturally possess a lot of empathy, so I also used food to draw attention to my own feelings, and not only detach from reality, but detach from the feelings of others, which I couldn’t change.
Some may believe that a food addiction is better than drinking or drugs or sex, but is it, really? Don’t we all just want to mute the world, to have our needs met? Won’t we all die an untimely death if something doesn’t change?
Completely shaking off these things we have an unhealthy dependence on takes time. There’s no other way around it until I look it straight in the face and call it out for what it is. It’s a path to ruin, for myself and those who come after me. They didn’t do it intentionally but my parents did have a hand in suggesting this habit to me. Do I possess the power to overturn my future children’s fates? Generational curses are no laughing matter.
This was just the first of what will be many more findings on this inner conflict. As a last thought for now, I want to address the responsibility to ourselves and each other that we all ought to own. While there’s credit to how much outside help can make us improve ourselves, it isn’t totally realistic. I can’t be everyone’s bosom buddy through their personal journey to freedom, as much as I wish I could be. I certainly can’t expect any one person to watch my every waking moment to make sure I don’t binge again. That is no one person’s job.
But I do believe it is our individual responsibility to work on ourselves and, in turn, use our personal stories to bless others. Our cultures and societies are a culmination of sick or healthy individuals. We must lift each other up. We cannot make promises but we can assure each other that if God can fix one person, He can surely fix another, if we let Him. Stay connected to the blog to see how He has been doing that for me.♢
Are you working through a similar inner conflict? Please consider leaving a comment, I want to encourage you personally. Also there’s a friendly face over at my YouTube channel @TheKatieLady, to support your everyday inner peace and happiness, for my discerning readers to check out.
