"Watch out for too much lusk (oh I ment Lust) in your life"
More, More, More is not enough
My abundance fails to satisfy
A sample leaves me more empty
Mayan Cocoa, Dagoba Eclipse
Cashmere, silk, merino wool
Aftershave, lime and tequila
Ripples of muscle, red hair
Titanium, hydrolic disk breaks,
Silver Lamay bathing suits,
Ford Truck, my nordstroms spree,
Various hero projection male friends
I posess, conquer, aquire, control
Dominating, grabbing, demanding
Latched on, occuped, owner, siezer
beating, crushing, mastering, overpowering
In the end I hate.
what it is not and I still am.
the void that was not filled as promised
the nagging desire to start looking again.
This time I will remember;
Gratefullness--what I have is good
Respect--I am not an object, neither is he
Truth--Nothing fills the void.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Games.
I hate the beginning of a relationship as much as I hate waiting to open presents. I hate the anticipation. I guess you could say I am not patient.
There are a bunch of wierd time rules. Like if you meet someone, and you want to spend time with them, you can't call them right away. You have to wait a bit.
You cant talk about old relationships, fears, faults, anything that is too wierd about you. You shouldn't act too happy to see them. Play it cool, even it it cools off. Maintain dignity.
Don't call two times in a row. Act disintrested, busy, important, scheduled. Fit them in between obligations, and amazing friends, other lovers.
No talking about politics or religion, or your strained relationship with your family. Don't talk about yourself too much...ask good questions. Not too personal though.
Don't talk loud, talk with food in your mouth, or make crazy hand gestures. Pay attention--notice stuff more than you usually do!
Don't talk about your secret internet life, or the things you have bought off of infomercials.
Offer to pay. No snot rockets, or finger-licking, gum smacking, chain smoking. Dont be late, turn your cell phone off. Don't complain or drink too many margaritas.
Then, even if you want to, don't move too fast. Be deliberate. Like those people I can't stand who think too long to choose their words, and methodically place the stapler in its rightful spot on their desks.
Try to act spontaneous, even if you are not. Even if you have every day planned until Sunday, and dude is waffling about whether or not you should do something Thursday, don't act like it bothers you. Neurotic scheduling is not near as cool as flippant spontanaety.
Don't act like you have needs.
DON'T talk to everyone about it. All it does is set up these neurological pathways of obsession, and your brain gets stuck. Stay busy with your really important stuff. ESPECIALLY don't tell your middle school students anything. Before long, all of them will be talking about it, constantly reminding you to stay stuck on your brain track of crazy.
Don't read poetry, or shakespere, or self-help books on relationships, or try to go to massage school, or learn salsa dancing. Don't start watching romantic movies, or catching up on Jane Austin.
Don't overanalyze, trust your feelings, follow your gut. You are probably wrong.
Don't spend your lunch writing poetry, and blow off the run you should have taken!! Don't waste your prep period writing in your blog!!
DONT DO WHAT YOU DID THE FIRST DATE!!! YOU KNOW WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT! (at least not for a while... :) )
Don't make all the decisions, but make a few, its super annoying when people have no opinion.
Don't lie. I even if you don't like the truth. But, you don't have to answer questions you don't want to answer, and you definitely don't have to blurt out things about yourself that you don't want him to know (So don't do that thing you do where you tell your self not to do something so many times that you end up doing it--like when you stare at the tree you don't want to hit when you are snowboarding).
Dont start believing in "mister right" "happily ever after" "soul mate" "you complete me" shit.
Don't start singing that song, "I believe in miracles" or "I want you," etc.
In fact, don't sing...at least for a while...
Don't spend money you don't have on ridiculous self-improvment projects or wardrobe changes (except for tonight--you earned it because you are SO SPECIAL.)
Well, thats all I can think of for now.
There are a bunch of wierd time rules. Like if you meet someone, and you want to spend time with them, you can't call them right away. You have to wait a bit.
You cant talk about old relationships, fears, faults, anything that is too wierd about you. You shouldn't act too happy to see them. Play it cool, even it it cools off. Maintain dignity.
Don't call two times in a row. Act disintrested, busy, important, scheduled. Fit them in between obligations, and amazing friends, other lovers.
No talking about politics or religion, or your strained relationship with your family. Don't talk about yourself too much...ask good questions. Not too personal though.
Don't talk loud, talk with food in your mouth, or make crazy hand gestures. Pay attention--notice stuff more than you usually do!
Don't talk about your secret internet life, or the things you have bought off of infomercials.
Offer to pay. No snot rockets, or finger-licking, gum smacking, chain smoking. Dont be late, turn your cell phone off. Don't complain or drink too many margaritas.
Then, even if you want to, don't move too fast. Be deliberate. Like those people I can't stand who think too long to choose their words, and methodically place the stapler in its rightful spot on their desks.
Try to act spontaneous, even if you are not. Even if you have every day planned until Sunday, and dude is waffling about whether or not you should do something Thursday, don't act like it bothers you. Neurotic scheduling is not near as cool as flippant spontanaety.
Don't act like you have needs.
DON'T talk to everyone about it. All it does is set up these neurological pathways of obsession, and your brain gets stuck. Stay busy with your really important stuff. ESPECIALLY don't tell your middle school students anything. Before long, all of them will be talking about it, constantly reminding you to stay stuck on your brain track of crazy.
Don't read poetry, or shakespere, or self-help books on relationships, or try to go to massage school, or learn salsa dancing. Don't start watching romantic movies, or catching up on Jane Austin.
Don't overanalyze, trust your feelings, follow your gut. You are probably wrong.
Don't spend your lunch writing poetry, and blow off the run you should have taken!! Don't waste your prep period writing in your blog!!
DONT DO WHAT YOU DID THE FIRST DATE!!! YOU KNOW WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT! (at least not for a while... :) )
Don't make all the decisions, but make a few, its super annoying when people have no opinion.
Don't lie. I even if you don't like the truth. But, you don't have to answer questions you don't want to answer, and you definitely don't have to blurt out things about yourself that you don't want him to know (So don't do that thing you do where you tell your self not to do something so many times that you end up doing it--like when you stare at the tree you don't want to hit when you are snowboarding).
Dont start believing in "mister right" "happily ever after" "soul mate" "you complete me" shit.
Don't start singing that song, "I believe in miracles" or "I want you," etc.
In fact, don't sing...at least for a while...
Don't spend money you don't have on ridiculous self-improvment projects or wardrobe changes (except for tonight--you earned it because you are SO SPECIAL.)
Well, thats all I can think of for now.
Illusions of Control
I crouch low, control my center of gravity
Tight turns, I see my next line
A gust of wind blows snow off the trees
white out--
"You shouldn't have intimacy without commitment"
I preach, confident in my self-dicipline
and lack of options, interest, time
Blind date--
She is on vacation in Vail at her boyfriend's condo
She lives in her boyfriends fancy house
He bought her a car
Break up--
Brian is coming; we are off to strawberry hot springs
A day of relaxing, then he is my ride home
I have big plans on Sunday.
Blizzard--
I am doing good saving up money;
I stopped buying ridiculous suppliments,
Books, Bikes, Exercise equipment
Living on less is easy!
New guy--
Finally, my friends can rest a little.
Two kids in college, a home
Seeing the grandkids every week
Nervous Breakdown--
Guy is going to Italy next year
Finally got his rotator cuff fixed,
Spring break at the beach in Cali
Mushrooms--
Weaving in and out of trees
Fast enought to be challenging,
slow enough to feel safe.
Ice, a rock, a tree well,
Flying--
Tight turns, I see my next line
A gust of wind blows snow off the trees
white out--
"You shouldn't have intimacy without commitment"
I preach, confident in my self-dicipline
and lack of options, interest, time
Blind date--
She is on vacation in Vail at her boyfriend's condo
She lives in her boyfriends fancy house
He bought her a car
Break up--
Brian is coming; we are off to strawberry hot springs
A day of relaxing, then he is my ride home
I have big plans on Sunday.
Blizzard--
I am doing good saving up money;
I stopped buying ridiculous suppliments,
Books, Bikes, Exercise equipment
Living on less is easy!
New guy--
Finally, my friends can rest a little.
Two kids in college, a home
Seeing the grandkids every week
Nervous Breakdown--
Guy is going to Italy next year
Finally got his rotator cuff fixed,
Spring break at the beach in Cali
Mushrooms--
Weaving in and out of trees
Fast enought to be challenging,
slow enough to feel safe.
Ice, a rock, a tree well,
Flying--
Saturday, March 21, 2009
New Life
I have this lovely friend name Jane. Jane is the special education teacher in my support class. About half of my support class is special education designated, and the other half is behind grade level in math. She came from a residential treatment center where she worked with extremely emotionally disabled kids. When she and I started together, she was too strict and I was too loose. It was neat to see us learn from each other. Lately, we have been spending more time together. She came over for dinner a few weeks ago.
I sometimes forget that Jesus is calling people. My friend had so many questions for me, I was suprised.
"So, do you think that only Christians go to heaven?"
"Well, I don't think so, not exactly. I think that humans and God are seperated. Humans are always trying to get to God but can't get there. Everytime a human tries to reach God they become dehumanized. They loose a part of their humanity. Like temple prostitutes who be come sex goddesses but lose a part of their souls. Or religious and political leaders who become God to their people, but cant be themselves. They can only live this characature the the people need them to be. So the only way for the gap to be bridged was for God to become man. We all have different access to the story of God becoming man...I guess we have to do what we can with what we have..."
"So we are all sinners?"
"Yeah, I think sin is sort of loaded--my pastor says sin is rooted in the belief that we deserve to be alone. I don't exactly know what that means. I think its us trying to be god. We all do that, for sure."
"So Jesus is supposed to forgive us?"
"Yeah, it says "This is how much God loved the world: He gave his Son, his one and only Son. And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed; by believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life. God didn't go to all the trouble of sending his Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was. He came to help, to put the world right again. Anyone who trusts in him is acquitted; anyone who refuses to trust him has long since been under the death sentence without knowing it. And why? Because of that person's failure to believe in the one-of-a-kind Son of God when introduced to him." John 3:16-18 message.
"It seems like if Jesus forgives people, then they will decide to sin even more!"
Yeah, it says this, "So what do we do? Keep on sinning so God can keep on forgiving? I should hope not! If we've left the country where sin is sovereign, how can we still live in our old house there?" I guess you start to realize that ultimately, sin is not awesome for you. Its not a great way to live...
"Well what do I have to do?"
"You just need to surrender. To be willing to let go of the reins. Its simple but hard...you have to keep on doing it..."
We spent all night--till 11--talking. She read the resentment list I made for 12-step stuff. She was surprised that I had so many resentments! She said hers would be shorter :).
We planned a weekend together. She decided to set me up with her friend Jay, who is an actor, and a Christian, so she knew we would hit it off. I wasn't so sure, but agreed. We would have dinner Saturday night, then we would go see Jay's play. After that we would have a slumber party and go to church.
It was a strange weekend. Jay and I hit it off too well..especially after too many Margaritas. Sara came to church with me and we had lunch with pastor John afterwards. He was so great! I am always proud of him. The way he reps Jesus is just how I think Jesus would want to be repped.
"So, Jane, what are five qualities you think are in a good parent?"
"Unconditional love, teaching ethics, support...I can't think of anything else."
"What do you think God is like?"
"Well, I guess he is like that!"
"So you do believe in God?"
"Yeah I guess I do...in fact, I think I believe more than Jaimie sometimes! But I guess I am scared to surrender."
"Can you explain that?"
"I guess I am scared of joining a cult. I am scared to trade the chaos in for the unknown good. I am scared of being alone"
We walked home from lunch, and Jane pummeled me with questions. Was Jesus a Jew? Was everyone a Jew back then? Were there Catholics back in Jesus's day?
By the time we got home, she was excited. She said she was happy that she believed, and looked forward to spending the day talking with Jesus.
If you are a prayer, pray for her. She has a life that is hard to leave.
I sometimes forget that Jesus is calling people. My friend had so many questions for me, I was suprised.
"So, do you think that only Christians go to heaven?"
"Well, I don't think so, not exactly. I think that humans and God are seperated. Humans are always trying to get to God but can't get there. Everytime a human tries to reach God they become dehumanized. They loose a part of their humanity. Like temple prostitutes who be come sex goddesses but lose a part of their souls. Or religious and political leaders who become God to their people, but cant be themselves. They can only live this characature the the people need them to be. So the only way for the gap to be bridged was for God to become man. We all have different access to the story of God becoming man...I guess we have to do what we can with what we have..."
"So we are all sinners?"
"Yeah, I think sin is sort of loaded--my pastor says sin is rooted in the belief that we deserve to be alone. I don't exactly know what that means. I think its us trying to be god. We all do that, for sure."
"So Jesus is supposed to forgive us?"
"Yeah, it says "This is how much God loved the world: He gave his Son, his one and only Son. And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed; by believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life. God didn't go to all the trouble of sending his Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was. He came to help, to put the world right again. Anyone who trusts in him is acquitted; anyone who refuses to trust him has long since been under the death sentence without knowing it. And why? Because of that person's failure to believe in the one-of-a-kind Son of God when introduced to him." John 3:16-18 message.
"It seems like if Jesus forgives people, then they will decide to sin even more!"
Yeah, it says this, "So what do we do? Keep on sinning so God can keep on forgiving? I should hope not! If we've left the country where sin is sovereign, how can we still live in our old house there?" I guess you start to realize that ultimately, sin is not awesome for you. Its not a great way to live...
"Well what do I have to do?"
"You just need to surrender. To be willing to let go of the reins. Its simple but hard...you have to keep on doing it..."
We spent all night--till 11--talking. She read the resentment list I made for 12-step stuff. She was surprised that I had so many resentments! She said hers would be shorter :).
We planned a weekend together. She decided to set me up with her friend Jay, who is an actor, and a Christian, so she knew we would hit it off. I wasn't so sure, but agreed. We would have dinner Saturday night, then we would go see Jay's play. After that we would have a slumber party and go to church.
It was a strange weekend. Jay and I hit it off too well..especially after too many Margaritas. Sara came to church with me and we had lunch with pastor John afterwards. He was so great! I am always proud of him. The way he reps Jesus is just how I think Jesus would want to be repped.
"So, Jane, what are five qualities you think are in a good parent?"
"Unconditional love, teaching ethics, support...I can't think of anything else."
"What do you think God is like?"
"Well, I guess he is like that!"
"So you do believe in God?"
"Yeah I guess I do...in fact, I think I believe more than Jaimie sometimes! But I guess I am scared to surrender."
"Can you explain that?"
"I guess I am scared of joining a cult. I am scared to trade the chaos in for the unknown good. I am scared of being alone"
We walked home from lunch, and Jane pummeled me with questions. Was Jesus a Jew? Was everyone a Jew back then? Were there Catholics back in Jesus's day?
By the time we got home, she was excited. She said she was happy that she believed, and looked forward to spending the day talking with Jesus.
If you are a prayer, pray for her. She has a life that is hard to leave.
A Flour/Sugar Funeral
Dear Flour/Sugar,
I have to say goodbye to you. One of my student's says, "If its fun, it can't be unhealthy." Cheryl Crow said that too, but I know its not true. You have been comfort and happiness. But not joy and contentment--not peace. For more than 10 years you have been my best lover. Above my ambitions to lose weight, become a famous writer, look fabulous, find romance--I have wanted you.
You have been my favorite gift. Dad used to come home every day and we would share some facet of you. When I think of a party I think of your unlimited delicious presence--the company, location, festivities are merely details compared to you. That doesn't mean I am undiscriminiating--I will not eat Russel Stover, or store bought bakery products, most cakes, stale anything, and corn syrup products. I will accept no imitations of you.
At a very early age I have been envious of your other lovers. I want you all to myself. I don't mind enjoying you with others, as long as I get the most--and the last taste of you.
In the summers I frequently visited Grandma. Her neighbors once invited me over for fudgesicles. The two neighborhood girls prized themselves in savoring the gooey deliciousness. They waited until the sun had melted the frosty outside, and the stick fell through the mushy chocolate. They held the chocolate slush with the plastic wrapper, and slowly, rapturously slurped up the fudgesicle with their popsicle stick. I gobbled mine up in the first five minutes. Rage built up inside me as the girls talked and laughed about their delicious chocolate lumps. I was entitled to some! Why weren't they sharing? Sure I had already eaten mine, but didn't they know it was impolite to eat in fron of me!! It didn't matter that we started off with the same amount. I deserved more! I needed more!
My happy childhood memories center around you. Haloween binges (we could eat as much candy as we wanted on Haloween....10 lb bags were gone in a couple of days.) I earned my way to campfire camp by selling mints, almond roca and turtles. ("How many would you like to buy? They will be 4 for 10 dollars or 2 for five dollars." I was very charming :) ) We bought four at a time, and gobbled them up. I was proud to be a campfire girl instead of girl scouts. Compared to mint patties and almond roca, Girl Scout cookies suck.
At my first childhood home we had a neighborhood parade. One year I dressed as an indian and rode my horse. I was envious of the kids that rode in the bull dozer--they got more of you because the big dozer scoop caught all the candy that they didn't catch.
Vacations centered around you. For camping trips we had endless smores. We stopped off for our favorite pieces of you before we went to the dump at this place we called the "Country Store." My first bike rides were to 7-11. Even my dog Lucy was a chocohalic.
When I broke my arm in third grade, I was rushed to the family practitioner, who told me he couldn't fix it. There was too much growth plate damage--my arm might not grow. I was forced to sit in agony on the couch while we waited to fit into emergency surgery at a downtown hospital. My placebo was 7-Up and ice cream. Mom said it would help. I think it did!
Bonding with the women in my family took the form of baking. Mom made me a homemade cake from scratch every birthday. She decorated them with whatever I wanted--"Strawberry Shortcake," "My Pretty Pony." Weekend cookie batches, several dozens of sugar cookies decorated with butter creme frosting on Christmas and Valentine's Day, Peanut brittle, almond roca, fudge, home-made rolls on Christmas.
Every Easter we celebrated Jesus with a gigantic easter basket of you with pounds of candy. It was hidden in the house and the Easter Bunny always made it tricky. Santa filled our stockings to the brim. We kids could get into our stockings without waiting for the adults. So we would wake up at 4 am and bask in you until every one woke up.
When I was little, my crimes were all crimes of passion. At age 4 I blamed my imaginary friend Woogler if cookies were missing. I stole candy from my sister-- worse. One month I convinced her to stockpile all of our candy with me in a cubby in my closet. when a friend came over, my friend and I gobbled up all the loot.
I recieved a message early on that you are a healer. When I was depressed, I ate chocolate. If I need energy, I could drink soda. If I needed comfort, I should eat some baked goods. If I felt overheated, I could eat some ice cream. If I am cold, I can have some hot chocolate. If I want to show loves for others--to tell them, "Thanks", "Get well soon", "I am sorry", "You are special", "I am thinking of you"--I should send the message with some delicious versions of you.
I have always had a pot belly. When I was little my relatives said, "She is allergic to milk." As I got older, people would say, "She would be so cute if she lost a few pounds." One moment of self-awareness was my senior pictures. I was so frumpy!
When I first got to the Naval Academy, I lost some weight. I wasn't trying--we were up at five for a formation run to a training session with more push-ups and sit-ups than a a person could do. Then we ran back to the dorms where we ate breakfast under extreme duress. We were marched to classes for hours and ate lunch in 15 minutes in a giant hall full of screaming upperclass who berated us. They withheld food from the unstudied and forced the greedy to eat large quantities of condiment coctails. The afternoons were spent learning military skills and testing physical prowess, while dinner was the same agony as lunch.
Nevertheless, we clung to you like a life preserver. In our daily minutes of personal time, care packages were our only solice. When mine was gone, I would help my friends with theirs. Helping became stealing. Vicky began to lock up her dad's chocolate chip cookies (which, to my horror, she ate so slowly that they went stale!) Meg counted her Godiva Chocolates. My friends loved me despite my greed for you, but you have always threatened my friendships. Once Plebe Summer was over, on the rare occasions when I had liberty, my friends and I walked to "Ben and Jerry's" or the Italian Gellato Shop--you were Freedom!
I went to Officer's Christian Fellowship and Fellowship of Christian Atheletes to worship you. You were always present there. Sometimes I worshiped God and Jesus there too.
I picked cycling as my sport. I was good immediately. I could push through the pain. I was faster than all of the first year men. I ate like them too! The cycling room became my clubhouse--a hide out. I wouldn't get yelled at by upper class or forced to do special favors. Also there were unlimited granola bars and Raisonettes. I could never get enough of you. I was never satisfied. I gained 25 lbs in college. It was clear that my success as a cyclist was sabotaged by my wieght. I won conferences and was 12th in the nation, but I was the heavest racer there.
You got me through the misery of Yard Patrols. Yard Patrols are these fake war ships we were trapped on for three weeks. Between canned and frozen food, you were all I could stomach. Then, my first blemish on my reputation--I made up with a fast-talking football player. I am not "that kind of girl!" You comforted me in my shame and loneliness.
In college I tried to quit you! The Weigh Down Workshop, various rules and forbidden foods. Most of the girls at the academy had eating issues. The diet at the mandatory meals was high in fat and served family-style. If a girl wasn't careful, she would start ballooning. If we were desperate, we could get a "chit" from the nutritionist for hard-boiled eggs, tuna fish, and cottage cheese. Many girls lived on that. There were anorexics, bulemics, exercise-aholics, food addicts--most girls I knew had some issue.
One interesting phenomenon occured with religious girls. Mix a type-A personality, hero-child mentality, fundamentalist Christianity, and a hyper awareness of body image and femininity, then add an environment where women were not wanted, had to wear unattractive uniforms (hair pulled back or boy-cut), while the system demanded they perform better than men and you have a coctail of crazy. I knew two friends who who went on 40 day fasts. Nothing but water and occasional juice for 40 days in the midst of a very demanding, physical schedule!
I too fasted. For approval from God, weightloss, cleansing, penance. Its hard to be real excited about a God who doesn't want you to eat, so I resented the God I thought wanted me to fast.
Special occasions at the Naval Academy were marked with candy. Rules were let up during the annual crab fest, where the menu was crabs, snickers and Jolt. We were rewarded with pizza parties and ice cream socials.
I was friends with a baker named Clyde th Black Hercules. One night, after everyone was asleep, Clyde let my two friends and I make 50 dozen cookies for all of our friends in the 4 food high mixer! We each showed at least 60 people how much we cared.
I chose to enter the USMC after graduation, because the USMC is on land most of the time and there is better food! In the field, I refused to eat anything but the candy out of MREs. I brought my own jerky, cereal, granola bars and candy to take the place fo the Chicken Tetrazini that is supposed to last 10 years without deteriorating. I drank some in the USMC--I even began to appreciate certain beers and wines. But I would always rather have dessert.
Then I went to war. It was stresseful, and I was completely isolated. I was sent on an independent assignemnt with my 40 Marines to Aschuaba Port, Kuwait, where I unloaded Maritime Prepositioning Force (MPF) ships. I was to work with my platoon sergeant, who was the man right under me. He was this 20 year Marine who hated me! I was stressed! My only comfort was in care packages from home. They say when you are about to eat remember H.A.L.T. (don't eat when you are hungry, angry, lonely or tired.). I spent eight months there!! There was no comfort except in food and occasional companionship. I made friends with a couple of men (There were only two girls there; one was an enlisted girl who worked for me, and the other was a peer who was openly antagonistic) These two men both wanted romance, although I didn't see that at the time. Well, I guess with one I did. I kissed that one, and the other one kissed me (I didn't see that one coming!). I was so freeked out! Its a big deal in the Marine Corps to fraterinize--have unprofessional relationships with enlisted people. I wrote my best friend about the whole ordeal on a govenment computer. The platoon sergeant who worked under me (and hated every second of doing anything I told him) found the email, and turned it in to my boss. I was in big trouble, since the two guys were enlisted. I got sent away from my platoon in shame and ignonomy. I was sent to the middle of the desrt, where my job was clearning port-o-pottys and building gazebos for smokers to smoke in the shade.
There were unlimited dove bars in the desert. It was 120 degress out and nothing was cold--except for the ice cream. I started off at 1 dove bar per fday. Then, I went to 2. Then--it seemed reasonable--to at least be able to eat the chocolate off another one but not eat the ice cream. Then--I though about it--why put milk in my coffee and waste that extra ice cream from the third chocolate bar? I would just put the ice cream in the coffee!
My best friend from High School, Heather, sent me a care package full of candy while I was at war. She drew me a comic with the following caption, "Jaimie's typical day at war:
0800--PT the troops
0900--Eat Candy
1000--Practice shooting
1100--Eat Candy
1200--Shoot bad guys
1300--Eat Candy
1400--Make Bombs
1500--Eat Candy
Etc...
It hit me that ironically the comic was true.
I gained 15 lbs at war. It didnt really show, seeing as how I was draped in cammoflauge. I had a friend who was really petite and she gained about 30 lbs. She looked like a little chipmonk. Eight girl officers shared a tent. Its odd how girls can be... If someone ate no junk food then girls judged her--she was too wierd. But the girl who gained 30 lbs was shamed. She would get up in the middle of the night, sleep walk over to her care packages, and scarf down marshmellow treats and chocolate bars.
I have always been able to believe that the next phase promised relief of my addiction of you. Going to the Naval Academy, the USMC, riding my bike across country, moving to Denver, staying busy, clearing my schedule, riding my bike across Mexico, traveling to other countries (which of course in my imagination don't even eat dessert :) ).
The bike messenger plan was the the worst idea yet. Over thirty offices a day worth of office candy, cheep fast lunches, then beer, fries, and burritos for dinner. I went to a Monastery for two months to fast on bread and water. It turns out even monks find comfort in food. On Sundays at the monastery, unlimited beer, wine, chocolate, and baked goods! Woohoo!
I then became a teacher. It has been the most stressful thing I have done. When I first started, weight flew off, because I was so busy all the time. It felt good to lose weight. I looked good. But I soon realized that you are the most effective short term motivator for students. I simply didn't have the knowledge, energy, skill to instill long term motivation on a large scale. I relied a lot on you. The problem is, to cope with the stress, I started to lean on you. It didn't matter what it was--I scarfed down Nerds Ropes! The faculty room was also a harbinger of you...its been a never ending battle. I havent been able to stay away.
I have finally just decided that I am done. You aren't a very good lover. I feel great with you for a while. But you leave me guilt-ridden, torn-up, catatonic, overweight, depressed, addicted. I don't like the low that comes after your high. I am compulsive, I steal, I am obsessed when I am around you. I am missing out on romantic love with a human, genuine connections with others, a feeling of control, a body that is well nourished. I am missing out on life! I need to say goodbye to you.
I guess I don't have anything more to say. I will miss you sometimes, but I know if I let go, I can find better lovers than you.
Jaimie
Jaimie
I have to say goodbye to you. One of my student's says, "If its fun, it can't be unhealthy." Cheryl Crow said that too, but I know its not true. You have been comfort and happiness. But not joy and contentment--not peace. For more than 10 years you have been my best lover. Above my ambitions to lose weight, become a famous writer, look fabulous, find romance--I have wanted you.
You have been my favorite gift. Dad used to come home every day and we would share some facet of you. When I think of a party I think of your unlimited delicious presence--the company, location, festivities are merely details compared to you. That doesn't mean I am undiscriminiating--I will not eat Russel Stover, or store bought bakery products, most cakes, stale anything, and corn syrup products. I will accept no imitations of you.
At a very early age I have been envious of your other lovers. I want you all to myself. I don't mind enjoying you with others, as long as I get the most--and the last taste of you.
In the summers I frequently visited Grandma. Her neighbors once invited me over for fudgesicles. The two neighborhood girls prized themselves in savoring the gooey deliciousness. They waited until the sun had melted the frosty outside, and the stick fell through the mushy chocolate. They held the chocolate slush with the plastic wrapper, and slowly, rapturously slurped up the fudgesicle with their popsicle stick. I gobbled mine up in the first five minutes. Rage built up inside me as the girls talked and laughed about their delicious chocolate lumps. I was entitled to some! Why weren't they sharing? Sure I had already eaten mine, but didn't they know it was impolite to eat in fron of me!! It didn't matter that we started off with the same amount. I deserved more! I needed more!
My happy childhood memories center around you. Haloween binges (we could eat as much candy as we wanted on Haloween....10 lb bags were gone in a couple of days.) I earned my way to campfire camp by selling mints, almond roca and turtles. ("How many would you like to buy? They will be 4 for 10 dollars or 2 for five dollars." I was very charming :) ) We bought four at a time, and gobbled them up. I was proud to be a campfire girl instead of girl scouts. Compared to mint patties and almond roca, Girl Scout cookies suck.
At my first childhood home we had a neighborhood parade. One year I dressed as an indian and rode my horse. I was envious of the kids that rode in the bull dozer--they got more of you because the big dozer scoop caught all the candy that they didn't catch.
Vacations centered around you. For camping trips we had endless smores. We stopped off for our favorite pieces of you before we went to the dump at this place we called the "Country Store." My first bike rides were to 7-11. Even my dog Lucy was a chocohalic.
When I broke my arm in third grade, I was rushed to the family practitioner, who told me he couldn't fix it. There was too much growth plate damage--my arm might not grow. I was forced to sit in agony on the couch while we waited to fit into emergency surgery at a downtown hospital. My placebo was 7-Up and ice cream. Mom said it would help. I think it did!
Bonding with the women in my family took the form of baking. Mom made me a homemade cake from scratch every birthday. She decorated them with whatever I wanted--"Strawberry Shortcake," "My Pretty Pony." Weekend cookie batches, several dozens of sugar cookies decorated with butter creme frosting on Christmas and Valentine's Day, Peanut brittle, almond roca, fudge, home-made rolls on Christmas.
Every Easter we celebrated Jesus with a gigantic easter basket of you with pounds of candy. It was hidden in the house and the Easter Bunny always made it tricky. Santa filled our stockings to the brim. We kids could get into our stockings without waiting for the adults. So we would wake up at 4 am and bask in you until every one woke up.
When I was little, my crimes were all crimes of passion. At age 4 I blamed my imaginary friend Woogler if cookies were missing. I stole candy from my sister-- worse. One month I convinced her to stockpile all of our candy with me in a cubby in my closet. when a friend came over, my friend and I gobbled up all the loot.
I recieved a message early on that you are a healer. When I was depressed, I ate chocolate. If I need energy, I could drink soda. If I needed comfort, I should eat some baked goods. If I felt overheated, I could eat some ice cream. If I am cold, I can have some hot chocolate. If I want to show loves for others--to tell them, "Thanks", "Get well soon", "I am sorry", "You are special", "I am thinking of you"--I should send the message with some delicious versions of you.
I have always had a pot belly. When I was little my relatives said, "She is allergic to milk." As I got older, people would say, "She would be so cute if she lost a few pounds." One moment of self-awareness was my senior pictures. I was so frumpy!
When I first got to the Naval Academy, I lost some weight. I wasn't trying--we were up at five for a formation run to a training session with more push-ups and sit-ups than a a person could do. Then we ran back to the dorms where we ate breakfast under extreme duress. We were marched to classes for hours and ate lunch in 15 minutes in a giant hall full of screaming upperclass who berated us. They withheld food from the unstudied and forced the greedy to eat large quantities of condiment coctails. The afternoons were spent learning military skills and testing physical prowess, while dinner was the same agony as lunch.
Nevertheless, we clung to you like a life preserver. In our daily minutes of personal time, care packages were our only solice. When mine was gone, I would help my friends with theirs. Helping became stealing. Vicky began to lock up her dad's chocolate chip cookies (which, to my horror, she ate so slowly that they went stale!) Meg counted her Godiva Chocolates. My friends loved me despite my greed for you, but you have always threatened my friendships. Once Plebe Summer was over, on the rare occasions when I had liberty, my friends and I walked to "Ben and Jerry's" or the Italian Gellato Shop--you were Freedom!
I went to Officer's Christian Fellowship and Fellowship of Christian Atheletes to worship you. You were always present there. Sometimes I worshiped God and Jesus there too.
I picked cycling as my sport. I was good immediately. I could push through the pain. I was faster than all of the first year men. I ate like them too! The cycling room became my clubhouse--a hide out. I wouldn't get yelled at by upper class or forced to do special favors. Also there were unlimited granola bars and Raisonettes. I could never get enough of you. I was never satisfied. I gained 25 lbs in college. It was clear that my success as a cyclist was sabotaged by my wieght. I won conferences and was 12th in the nation, but I was the heavest racer there.
You got me through the misery of Yard Patrols. Yard Patrols are these fake war ships we were trapped on for three weeks. Between canned and frozen food, you were all I could stomach. Then, my first blemish on my reputation--I made up with a fast-talking football player. I am not "that kind of girl!" You comforted me in my shame and loneliness.
In college I tried to quit you! The Weigh Down Workshop, various rules and forbidden foods. Most of the girls at the academy had eating issues. The diet at the mandatory meals was high in fat and served family-style. If a girl wasn't careful, she would start ballooning. If we were desperate, we could get a "chit" from the nutritionist for hard-boiled eggs, tuna fish, and cottage cheese. Many girls lived on that. There were anorexics, bulemics, exercise-aholics, food addicts--most girls I knew had some issue.
One interesting phenomenon occured with religious girls. Mix a type-A personality, hero-child mentality, fundamentalist Christianity, and a hyper awareness of body image and femininity, then add an environment where women were not wanted, had to wear unattractive uniforms (hair pulled back or boy-cut), while the system demanded they perform better than men and you have a coctail of crazy. I knew two friends who who went on 40 day fasts. Nothing but water and occasional juice for 40 days in the midst of a very demanding, physical schedule!
I too fasted. For approval from God, weightloss, cleansing, penance. Its hard to be real excited about a God who doesn't want you to eat, so I resented the God I thought wanted me to fast.
Special occasions at the Naval Academy were marked with candy. Rules were let up during the annual crab fest, where the menu was crabs, snickers and Jolt. We were rewarded with pizza parties and ice cream socials.
I was friends with a baker named Clyde th Black Hercules. One night, after everyone was asleep, Clyde let my two friends and I make 50 dozen cookies for all of our friends in the 4 food high mixer! We each showed at least 60 people how much we cared.
I chose to enter the USMC after graduation, because the USMC is on land most of the time and there is better food! In the field, I refused to eat anything but the candy out of MREs. I brought my own jerky, cereal, granola bars and candy to take the place fo the Chicken Tetrazini that is supposed to last 10 years without deteriorating. I drank some in the USMC--I even began to appreciate certain beers and wines. But I would always rather have dessert.
Then I went to war. It was stresseful, and I was completely isolated. I was sent on an independent assignemnt with my 40 Marines to Aschuaba Port, Kuwait, where I unloaded Maritime Prepositioning Force (MPF) ships. I was to work with my platoon sergeant, who was the man right under me. He was this 20 year Marine who hated me! I was stressed! My only comfort was in care packages from home. They say when you are about to eat remember H.A.L.T. (don't eat when you are hungry, angry, lonely or tired.). I spent eight months there!! There was no comfort except in food and occasional companionship. I made friends with a couple of men (There were only two girls there; one was an enlisted girl who worked for me, and the other was a peer who was openly antagonistic) These two men both wanted romance, although I didn't see that at the time. Well, I guess with one I did. I kissed that one, and the other one kissed me (I didn't see that one coming!). I was so freeked out! Its a big deal in the Marine Corps to fraterinize--have unprofessional relationships with enlisted people. I wrote my best friend about the whole ordeal on a govenment computer. The platoon sergeant who worked under me (and hated every second of doing anything I told him) found the email, and turned it in to my boss. I was in big trouble, since the two guys were enlisted. I got sent away from my platoon in shame and ignonomy. I was sent to the middle of the desrt, where my job was clearning port-o-pottys and building gazebos for smokers to smoke in the shade.
There were unlimited dove bars in the desert. It was 120 degress out and nothing was cold--except for the ice cream. I started off at 1 dove bar per fday. Then, I went to 2. Then--it seemed reasonable--to at least be able to eat the chocolate off another one but not eat the ice cream. Then--I though about it--why put milk in my coffee and waste that extra ice cream from the third chocolate bar? I would just put the ice cream in the coffee!
My best friend from High School, Heather, sent me a care package full of candy while I was at war. She drew me a comic with the following caption, "Jaimie's typical day at war:
0800--PT the troops
0900--Eat Candy
1000--Practice shooting
1100--Eat Candy
1200--Shoot bad guys
1300--Eat Candy
1400--Make Bombs
1500--Eat Candy
Etc...
It hit me that ironically the comic was true.
I gained 15 lbs at war. It didnt really show, seeing as how I was draped in cammoflauge. I had a friend who was really petite and she gained about 30 lbs. She looked like a little chipmonk. Eight girl officers shared a tent. Its odd how girls can be... If someone ate no junk food then girls judged her--she was too wierd. But the girl who gained 30 lbs was shamed. She would get up in the middle of the night, sleep walk over to her care packages, and scarf down marshmellow treats and chocolate bars.
I have always been able to believe that the next phase promised relief of my addiction of you. Going to the Naval Academy, the USMC, riding my bike across country, moving to Denver, staying busy, clearing my schedule, riding my bike across Mexico, traveling to other countries (which of course in my imagination don't even eat dessert :) ).
The bike messenger plan was the the worst idea yet. Over thirty offices a day worth of office candy, cheep fast lunches, then beer, fries, and burritos for dinner. I went to a Monastery for two months to fast on bread and water. It turns out even monks find comfort in food. On Sundays at the monastery, unlimited beer, wine, chocolate, and baked goods! Woohoo!
I then became a teacher. It has been the most stressful thing I have done. When I first started, weight flew off, because I was so busy all the time. It felt good to lose weight. I looked good. But I soon realized that you are the most effective short term motivator for students. I simply didn't have the knowledge, energy, skill to instill long term motivation on a large scale. I relied a lot on you. The problem is, to cope with the stress, I started to lean on you. It didn't matter what it was--I scarfed down Nerds Ropes! The faculty room was also a harbinger of you...its been a never ending battle. I havent been able to stay away.
I have finally just decided that I am done. You aren't a very good lover. I feel great with you for a while. But you leave me guilt-ridden, torn-up, catatonic, overweight, depressed, addicted. I don't like the low that comes after your high. I am compulsive, I steal, I am obsessed when I am around you. I am missing out on romantic love with a human, genuine connections with others, a feeling of control, a body that is well nourished. I am missing out on life! I need to say goodbye to you.
I guess I don't have anything more to say. I will miss you sometimes, but I know if I let go, I can find better lovers than you.
Jaimie
Jaimie
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Hoping for Rain
I am used to the desert
Quiet, predictable. I understand the dangers
The scorpions of my loneliness don’t come out during the day
The rattlesnakes of despair can be avoided sometimes.
I get just enough water to survive
I chose the desert.
The rain is cold and I don’t get to do what I want.
Endless sunny days lull me to sleep—I forget
Then I glimpse the colors of a well-watered soul
Rich browns, greens, blues, reds yellows—I want that!
I wasn’t expecting to be so thirsty.
Now I am daydreaming about water. Call me!!!
I want new kinds of problems
I want to drown in you.
I want to shiver in sweet constant drizzle of you.
Quiet, predictable. I understand the dangers
The scorpions of my loneliness don’t come out during the day
The rattlesnakes of despair can be avoided sometimes.
I get just enough water to survive
I chose the desert.
The rain is cold and I don’t get to do what I want.
Endless sunny days lull me to sleep—I forget
Then I glimpse the colors of a well-watered soul
Rich browns, greens, blues, reds yellows—I want that!
I wasn’t expecting to be so thirsty.
Now I am daydreaming about water. Call me!!!
I want new kinds of problems
I want to drown in you.
I want to shiver in sweet constant drizzle of you.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
New Guy
Dark chocolate pools of light
German cool
Say my name!
no safety net
Choose: control, peace, order
OR: a taste, a fix, a tumble in to the unknown.
Guilt from pride or sin?
A republican actor? An experienced virgin?
A walking contradiction.
Will you talk about politics too much?
Will I be too nervous to be myself?
Maybe I should get a silver lamay bikini.
A brazillian wax
A little black dress….
What scraps are you piecing together to form your image of me?
I face my sparse aloneness resolutely determined.
But your rain fills me and reminds me of my desert.
Suddenly the unbearable scorch of my loneliness bursts into my minutes.
German cool
Say my name!
no safety net
Choose: control, peace, order
OR: a taste, a fix, a tumble in to the unknown.
Guilt from pride or sin?
A republican actor? An experienced virgin?
A walking contradiction.
Will you talk about politics too much?
Will I be too nervous to be myself?
Maybe I should get a silver lamay bikini.
A brazillian wax
A little black dress….
What scraps are you piecing together to form your image of me?
I face my sparse aloneness resolutely determined.
But your rain fills me and reminds me of my desert.
Suddenly the unbearable scorch of my loneliness bursts into my minutes.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Scary Religion
I have been pretty excited about starting food addicts anonymous. Sure it was strict, but maybe I needed that. I mean, I sure haven't gotten in control of eating yet...maybe I needed that kind of help. Here Some of the "suggestions" (meaning mandates if you want someone to sponser you and consider you "abstinent" or "working the program.").
-Attend three meetings a week plus an AWOL phone meeting (this is 6 hours of meetings a week!)
-Find a sponsor "that has what you want" - that person will tell you the food plan (I found out on the internet that the only reason it's not written down is because OA got sued by a dead anorexic girl's parents in the 80"s), as well as take three phone calls a day to other food addicts in recovery (your friends and family don't count...). This is 7 hours a week worth of calls....SO this program is a 13 hour a week commitment. That is a part-time job!! I hate being on the phone...I am not going to be on the phone 7 hours!!
-Write down your food each night
-Weigh and measure your food, nothing in between, no flour, no sugar and avoidance of all binge foods. The meals have to be 4-6 hours apart, and you must sit down at a table and eat for 20 min, no distractions. The meals are as follows: Breakast-- 2 oz oatmeal, 8 oz non-fat plain yogurt, 1 fruit Lunch--4 oz protien, 8 oz cooked vegetables, 8 oz salad, one piece of fruit. Dinner--4 oz protien, 8 oz cooked vegetables, 8 oz salad. With each salad you can use 1 tbs olive oil or salad dressing with no sugar in the first five ingredients.
Spiritual commitments:
-Read two pages from the Big Book each night.
-Get down on your knees each night before bed and thank God for abstinance.
-Call your sponsor every morning and tell them what you will eat, and ask food questions. The lady I called said she had a slot open at 5:45.
-Meditate for thirty minutes in the morning
-Read a page from the 24 Hour a Day book
-You may not raise your hand or participate in the group until you have 90 days of "abstinence".
I called a lady I thought could sponser me. Her story was similar to mine. She wasn't too overweight, she just felt controlled by food. It was hard for others to understand because she was so athletic--shouldn't she be able to eat what she wanted? She joined the program, lost thirty pounds, feels great, blah blah blah. I called her Saturday and let her know I was interested in the program and wanted to be sponsered. I told her some of my limitations. It was clear she was not really interested in hearing them. I felt a little concerned, but I prepared the beginning of the week, and called her again Wednesday to discuss the program. I couldn't get ahold of her, but had her email so I sent her the following email:
Hillary,
I called you tonight because I am ready to start practicing abstinence. My five-day carbohydrate cleanse did not go as well as I had hoped. I fell off the wagon today...dark before dawn right? I binged on fiber!! AAHHHH! I am not feeling great right now.
I didn't really like the way our conversation went on Saturday. I liked your story at the meeting and I also liked your story I read in the Food Addict magazine (Claudine gave me a copy and it was the one with the story you had written.) I think you would be a good sponsor for me.
Here is the deal: I fight with kids all day long, trying to get them to learn math, and I get a million excuses. Pretty soon I can't hear the excuses anymore, because they are all the same, and they aren't going to make the kid better. I had a feeling that that was where you were coming from--you were hearing the same old excuses from me...("I can't go to meetings", "I can't start just yet.....")
I am not being prideful, I have hit rock bottom...But I am scared of becoming legalistic. It has nearly destroyed my family, and my capacity to love God. I sat down this weekend and tried to break it down for myself. Here is my definition of legalism: Legalism is us trying to please God and others. It is also me convincing others that they need my Religion. FAA is a religion. I am convinced I need it. To ground me. To remind me. To tap me into the peace that has already been made by Christ. On the other hand, I got the feeling that you would expect me to do things exactly like you. I am not comfortable with that. Any ritual that merely piles on a whole new weight of all the ways that I fall short in…this is not Christ-centered. There are certain things I can not commit to right now.
I CAN commit to abstinence, whatever food plan you give me, calling you once a day, other stuff maybe. I can commit to the Thursday meeting. In the future, I could commit to Saturday meetings (in approximately 2 months), and maybe if I am not out of my mind frenetic, the Monday meeting (in approximately three months).
However, Program can't be first for me, it feels wrong. My relationship with God and others, including myself, are first. If I spend the rest of my life overweight and worried about food I would not be happy. But, I will not live incongruent with what I think God wants from me. I think he wants abstinence, but I know he doesn't want me to become too controlling, or to feel controlled, or try and please you or other people. I get what you mean about putting the program first--it allows you to be in a position to serve others. It makes sense.
Here are questions I hope I can keep coming back to:
Does my religion reflect my love for God? Or does it show that I love control/rules/something else more?
Can I thank God for my Religion?
Does it help me love myself/others?
I would like to work with you. If you read this and think, "I would not like to work with her, she seems like a self-righteous bitch," you can tell me no and I won't hold it against you :) Jaim
We got ahold of each other the next day. She started telling me what the expectations would be if I worked with her. It was clear she was not happy I couldn't fulfill all commitments, but what I had to offer was good enough for now....as long as I reoriented my whole life around the program soon. Then we got to the salad dressing conversation.
"I don't like salad dressing." I stated. "Can I put the olive oil on the cooked vegetables or meat?" She rehearsed a sing-songy line, "I would have to talk to my sponsor." "Could I just use the olive oil to cook the meat and vegetables?" That she knew the answer to, "You definitely couldn't cook with it. You could put it on only after you weighed and measured your meat and vegetables." "I can put it on my meat, but I can't cook it?" "Yes." "But why?" "I can only pass the program down as it has been passed on to me by my sponsors."(she would say this same line at least 3 more times in the next 5 minutes) I started freaking out...really?
I asked her about going over to my friends house for dinner tomorrow night. "I know she is serving fish and salad. If the salad has bits of fruit and blue cheese, can I eat it?" "It's best if you take your own food." "But I am skiing all day--you are telling me I need to take some cold chicken breast and broccoli to this girls house?" "Yes." "But it seems crazy!" "I can only pass the program down as it has been passed on to me by my sponsors. Maybe you should try a few more meetings until you are ready to commit." "Oh heck no!" I started bawling. I guess because it was a loss--this program certainly was not going to work. Also, I was frightened. I almost joined a cult. Now that I think about it, at the meeting there were a lot of happy, shiny people. I do not want to come a robot!
I called my pastor, my friend Puck, and my friend Shelly. I won't go back to that meeting. I do know the party line for why--right out of the big book-- I am "constitutionally incapable of being honest" - "there are those unfortunates"-
My pastor gave me a book once called Masculine & Feminine: The Natural Flow of Opposites in the Psyche, by Gareth Hill. In that book, he talks about four polarities that human find themselves oscillating through. Static Feminine, Dynamic Masculine, Static Masculine, and Dynamic Feminine. Each polarity has certain positives and negative. We are healthy if we are continuing to move through the positives of each and not getting stuck in the negatives. The Static Femine represents traits like nurturing, care, belonging, but can also demand conformity and discourage individuality. The Dynamic Masculine represents power, determination, bravery, the "hero"; but it is also the "dictator." The dynamic feminine is creativity, fun. It is also madness.
Finally, the positive Static Masculine are rules, regulations, Systems of meaning, Hierarchies of Value, Theories of truth, Standards, persona, The GREAT Father. The negative Static Masculine is organization for it's own sake, complacency, rigid expectations, dehumanizing righteousness, inauthenticity, petitness, (the bitter, envy-ridden old man). I guess I must be trying to move into this energy, but haven't found a good way to do it yet.
I wrote this lady I knew from Overeaters Anonymous. The hard thing with Overeaters Anonymous is you define your own abstinence. You decide what you need. But after Food Addicts in Recovery that seems like some serious grace.
Here is what she wrote me: I suggest you keep a journal and write while you eat. Write what you eat..your hunger level, your emotions/worries/hopes at the time. Connect with God before each meal. Acknowledge your powerlessness. Read whatever literature you have. Grab an oa newcomers packet on Sunday...a big book if you don't have one, and I find the OA 12 x 12 and daily reading book very helpful. There are usually loaner "lifeline" mags at meetings...and some oa approved literature at libraries to check out.When you read write down what pisses you off, you can relate to, etc..whatever gets triggered. Step 1: We admitted we were powerless over food-and our lives became unmanageable. Some say, We admitted we were powerless over our lives and our food became unmanageable. Food has been our way of coping...we need and there is a new way! The first 3 steps are: I can't- God can- I will let him. Soak in "I can't" left to my own unsteady willpower..sooner or later I fall. Allow yourself to be at bottom....God sees you. Touch base with me as often as you'd like...a sponsor relationship allows you to know how willing you are to go to any lengths to find serenity..abstinence...a new way of living. I'm privileged to join you on the journey~My new nice sponser Lady
-Attend three meetings a week plus an AWOL phone meeting (this is 6 hours of meetings a week!)
-Find a sponsor "that has what you want" - that person will tell you the food plan (I found out on the internet that the only reason it's not written down is because OA got sued by a dead anorexic girl's parents in the 80"s), as well as take three phone calls a day to other food addicts in recovery (your friends and family don't count...). This is 7 hours a week worth of calls....SO this program is a 13 hour a week commitment. That is a part-time job!! I hate being on the phone...I am not going to be on the phone 7 hours!!
-Write down your food each night
-Weigh and measure your food, nothing in between, no flour, no sugar and avoidance of all binge foods. The meals have to be 4-6 hours apart, and you must sit down at a table and eat for 20 min, no distractions. The meals are as follows: Breakast-- 2 oz oatmeal, 8 oz non-fat plain yogurt, 1 fruit Lunch--4 oz protien, 8 oz cooked vegetables, 8 oz salad, one piece of fruit. Dinner--4 oz protien, 8 oz cooked vegetables, 8 oz salad. With each salad you can use 1 tbs olive oil or salad dressing with no sugar in the first five ingredients.
Spiritual commitments:
-Read two pages from the Big Book each night.
-Get down on your knees each night before bed and thank God for abstinance.
-Call your sponsor every morning and tell them what you will eat, and ask food questions. The lady I called said she had a slot open at 5:45.
-Meditate for thirty minutes in the morning
-Read a page from the 24 Hour a Day book
-You may not raise your hand or participate in the group until you have 90 days of "abstinence".
I called a lady I thought could sponser me. Her story was similar to mine. She wasn't too overweight, she just felt controlled by food. It was hard for others to understand because she was so athletic--shouldn't she be able to eat what she wanted? She joined the program, lost thirty pounds, feels great, blah blah blah. I called her Saturday and let her know I was interested in the program and wanted to be sponsered. I told her some of my limitations. It was clear she was not really interested in hearing them. I felt a little concerned, but I prepared the beginning of the week, and called her again Wednesday to discuss the program. I couldn't get ahold of her, but had her email so I sent her the following email:
Hillary,
I called you tonight because I am ready to start practicing abstinence. My five-day carbohydrate cleanse did not go as well as I had hoped. I fell off the wagon today...dark before dawn right? I binged on fiber!! AAHHHH! I am not feeling great right now.
I didn't really like the way our conversation went on Saturday. I liked your story at the meeting and I also liked your story I read in the Food Addict magazine (Claudine gave me a copy and it was the one with the story you had written.) I think you would be a good sponsor for me.
Here is the deal: I fight with kids all day long, trying to get them to learn math, and I get a million excuses. Pretty soon I can't hear the excuses anymore, because they are all the same, and they aren't going to make the kid better. I had a feeling that that was where you were coming from--you were hearing the same old excuses from me...("I can't go to meetings", "I can't start just yet.....")
I am not being prideful, I have hit rock bottom...But I am scared of becoming legalistic. It has nearly destroyed my family, and my capacity to love God. I sat down this weekend and tried to break it down for myself. Here is my definition of legalism: Legalism is us trying to please God and others. It is also me convincing others that they need my Religion. FAA is a religion. I am convinced I need it. To ground me. To remind me. To tap me into the peace that has already been made by Christ. On the other hand, I got the feeling that you would expect me to do things exactly like you. I am not comfortable with that. Any ritual that merely piles on a whole new weight of all the ways that I fall short in…this is not Christ-centered. There are certain things I can not commit to right now.
I CAN commit to abstinence, whatever food plan you give me, calling you once a day, other stuff maybe. I can commit to the Thursday meeting. In the future, I could commit to Saturday meetings (in approximately 2 months), and maybe if I am not out of my mind frenetic, the Monday meeting (in approximately three months).
However, Program can't be first for me, it feels wrong. My relationship with God and others, including myself, are first. If I spend the rest of my life overweight and worried about food I would not be happy. But, I will not live incongruent with what I think God wants from me. I think he wants abstinence, but I know he doesn't want me to become too controlling, or to feel controlled, or try and please you or other people. I get what you mean about putting the program first--it allows you to be in a position to serve others. It makes sense.
Here are questions I hope I can keep coming back to:
Does my religion reflect my love for God? Or does it show that I love control/rules/something else more?
Can I thank God for my Religion?
Does it help me love myself/others?
I would like to work with you. If you read this and think, "I would not like to work with her, she seems like a self-righteous bitch," you can tell me no and I won't hold it against you :) Jaim
We got ahold of each other the next day. She started telling me what the expectations would be if I worked with her. It was clear she was not happy I couldn't fulfill all commitments, but what I had to offer was good enough for now....as long as I reoriented my whole life around the program soon. Then we got to the salad dressing conversation.
"I don't like salad dressing." I stated. "Can I put the olive oil on the cooked vegetables or meat?" She rehearsed a sing-songy line, "I would have to talk to my sponsor." "Could I just use the olive oil to cook the meat and vegetables?" That she knew the answer to, "You definitely couldn't cook with it. You could put it on only after you weighed and measured your meat and vegetables." "I can put it on my meat, but I can't cook it?" "Yes." "But why?" "I can only pass the program down as it has been passed on to me by my sponsors."(she would say this same line at least 3 more times in the next 5 minutes) I started freaking out...really?
I asked her about going over to my friends house for dinner tomorrow night. "I know she is serving fish and salad. If the salad has bits of fruit and blue cheese, can I eat it?" "It's best if you take your own food." "But I am skiing all day--you are telling me I need to take some cold chicken breast and broccoli to this girls house?" "Yes." "But it seems crazy!" "I can only pass the program down as it has been passed on to me by my sponsors. Maybe you should try a few more meetings until you are ready to commit." "Oh heck no!" I started bawling. I guess because it was a loss--this program certainly was not going to work. Also, I was frightened. I almost joined a cult. Now that I think about it, at the meeting there were a lot of happy, shiny people. I do not want to come a robot!
I called my pastor, my friend Puck, and my friend Shelly. I won't go back to that meeting. I do know the party line for why--right out of the big book-- I am "constitutionally incapable of being honest" - "there are those unfortunates"-
My pastor gave me a book once called Masculine & Feminine: The Natural Flow of Opposites in the Psyche, by Gareth Hill. In that book, he talks about four polarities that human find themselves oscillating through. Static Feminine, Dynamic Masculine, Static Masculine, and Dynamic Feminine. Each polarity has certain positives and negative. We are healthy if we are continuing to move through the positives of each and not getting stuck in the negatives. The Static Femine represents traits like nurturing, care, belonging, but can also demand conformity and discourage individuality. The Dynamic Masculine represents power, determination, bravery, the "hero"; but it is also the "dictator." The dynamic feminine is creativity, fun. It is also madness.
Finally, the positive Static Masculine are rules, regulations, Systems of meaning, Hierarchies of Value, Theories of truth, Standards, persona, The GREAT Father. The negative Static Masculine is organization for it's own sake, complacency, rigid expectations, dehumanizing righteousness, inauthenticity, petitness, (the bitter, envy-ridden old man). I guess I must be trying to move into this energy, but haven't found a good way to do it yet.
I wrote this lady I knew from Overeaters Anonymous. The hard thing with Overeaters Anonymous is you define your own abstinence. You decide what you need. But after Food Addicts in Recovery that seems like some serious grace.
Here is what she wrote me: I suggest you keep a journal and write while you eat. Write what you eat..your hunger level, your emotions/worries/hopes at the time. Connect with God before each meal. Acknowledge your powerlessness. Read whatever literature you have. Grab an oa newcomers packet on Sunday...a big book if you don't have one, and I find the OA 12 x 12 and daily reading book very helpful. There are usually loaner "lifeline" mags at meetings...and some oa approved literature at libraries to check out.When you read write down what pisses you off, you can relate to, etc..whatever gets triggered. Step 1: We admitted we were powerless over food-and our lives became unmanageable. Some say, We admitted we were powerless over our lives and our food became unmanageable. Food has been our way of coping...we need and there is a new way! The first 3 steps are: I can't- God can- I will let him. Soak in "I can't" left to my own unsteady willpower..sooner or later I fall. Allow yourself to be at bottom....God sees you. Touch base with me as often as you'd like...a sponsor relationship allows you to know how willing you are to go to any lengths to find serenity..abstinence...a new way of living. I'm privileged to join you on the journey~My new nice sponser Lady
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Sermon on Religion
I preached this Saturday, 8 March.
What I need to talk about today is my religion. When people ask me if I am religious, I say, “no, just spiritual.” Because religion seems bad…rules….ahh…I want no rules…after all, its for freedom that Christ set us free right?
We have all been burned by other people's rules. Back in Mark 7 Jesus says, “They worship me in vain; their teachings are but rules taught by men." Legalism is damaging. Legalism is us trying to please God…It is us convincing others that they need our Religion…(I don’t work on Sundays and you shouldn’t either; you must read the Bible every morning; you must serve the homeless).
Wikipedia says: Religion is an organized approach to human spirituality which encompasses a set of beliefs and practices. It is socially defined and includes specific behaviors.
I have been trying to read the bible from start to finish, and I got in to dreaded Leviticus. Eugene Peterson’s introduction to the book startled me, and convicted me that I needed to find me some religion. He starts off “One of the stubbornly enduring habits of the human race is to insist on domesticating God. But our Scriptures are even more stubborn in telling us that we can’t do it. “The Book of Leviticus is a narrative pause in the story of our ancestors as they were on their way, saved out of Egypt, to settle in the land of Canaan. The moment these people enter Canaan, they will be picking their way through a lethal minefield of Gods and Goddesses that are designed to appeal to our God fantasies. 'Give us what we want when we want it on our own terms.' What these God-fantasies do in fact do is cripple or kill us. Leviticus is a start at the 'much teaching and long training' that continues to be adapted and reworked in every country and culture where God is forming a saved people to live as he created them to live—Holy as God is holy."
Throughout all of the Old Testiment, it is clear that even if God’s people screwed up and didn’t offer the right sacrifices, they were still in relationship with God. The most disturbing thing about Leviticus is all that blood and guts…popping heads off pigeons, pouring the blood of animals around the alter, two of Aaron’s sons died on the spot for violating the temple with some “strange fire”…another guy died for using the Lord's name in vain (and he was an Egyptian and didn’t know any better.) The majority of Leviticus is about regulations regarding sacrifice. Hebrews says we don’t have to sacrifice animals anymore because Christ’s death was the final sacrifice.
So does any of Leviticus apply to us?
There is a part of the animal sacrificing which was about atonement which clearly doesn’t apply to us. But it also served to prepare the people’s hearts. Micah 6:7-8 says, "Will the LORD be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousand rivers of oil? Shall I offer my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul? He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God."
And Psalm 50 says: "I have no need of a bull from your stall or of goats from your pens, for every animal of the forest is mine, and the cattle on a thousand hills. But He who sacrifices thank offerings honors me, and he prepares the way so that I may show him the salvation of God."
The people needed to sacrifice. As Eugene Peterson’s introduction states, the people’s religion protected them from falling for those gods and goddesses that appealed to their god fantasies (the modern equivalent is our addictions.) Their religion is forming the people into holy people.
People back then had more time on their hands. Money certainly didn’t mean the same thing. Their most valuable possession was their livestock. This is what God wanted them to sacrifice. They needed to give something up…to die to themselves. In the New Testament, Romans talks about becoming a living sacrifice, and Hebrews talks about a sacrifice of praise. So like Leviticus I think my religion ought to contain sacrifice. Which brings me to AA.
I went to the AA retreat a few weekends ago. It was hard and confusing. I was the only non-alcoholic, but I feel as sick and addicted to myself as the rest of them. The food version, Food Addicts Anonymous, asks participants to eat only three meals a day, no carbs, and go to like 4.5 meetings a week. That sounds horrible. Regardless I have moved forward a little.
I went to a Food addicts meeting this week. The girl that was leading, said hi, that we met before, and that we knew each other from seminary. I didn’t recognize her. She just smiled. She was gracious and kind. I listened to her story, and she passed around pictures. She was about 140 lbs, 5’1’’. In her pictures she was 285! Once I saw the pictures I recognized her—I couldn’t believe it!
God didn’t need the blood of animals to forgive us; we needed it. What is the point of a Religion? To ground us. To open us up, to remind us, tap us into the peace that has already been made by Christ. Any ritual that merely piles on a whole new weight of all the ways you aren’t—all the ways you fall short…this is not Christ-centered.
I just heard this analogy. Lets say God is a song. And the song is beautiful, and compelling. In order to follow the Song, we must learn to play it.
A Rhythm for life…getting in tune with God….I have felt really out of tune for a very long time. I like the song…I just don’t know how to play it….I can daydream all I want, but I got some work to do if I want to get better at being in tune. Christ is not asking us if we like the song—he is asking us to play it.
So we want to learn to play the song God is playing. We know we need to practice, we know we need community too play with. With no rules, we are only admirers of the song, and Jesus is not calling us to be simply admirers.
With legalism, we become more interested in how to learn to play, more interested in becoming skilled musicians than learning the song. I guess you could say the Pharisees learned to play the instrument, but they aren’t playing the song.
I will tell you only what I am considering for my religion. First, I think I need the 12-steps. Working through the steps is a continuing cycle of surrender, confession, repentance, amends, and service. While followers of Christ may believe that all of these things are important, especially in the “low church” we tend to try and do all or nothing…never really doing a great job at any of them….because you simply can’t do all of them all the time. I think the 12-steps breaks it down for me. I live a pretty self-centered, stubborn existence. Of course I need to surrender before I can serve!! I need to confess and repent… And I really need to be obedient to something or someone once in a while.12-steps breaks it down for me.
Leviticus is big on a lot of the 12 step stuff too. The whole sacrifice thing was a way of publically confessing sins. Leviticus 6:4 talks about making amends, and restoring what people took from others. Leviticus 19:13 talks about serving strangers.
Also Leviticus has a lot of time for celebration and “hearing the song”. There were seven major holidays each year. Most of us are fragmented, and compartmentalized. We live isolated, independent and private lives. We are too busy…
Every teacher on the special education team at work is on either antidepression or anti anxiety medication. One more option, problem, commitment, expectation, purchase, debt, change, job, one more decision. We need a space between our routine and survival mode. Something held in reserve for the spontaneous. We need time to hear the song!
The Hebrews celebrated not only a nightly rest, But a weekly Sabbath, and seven yearly feasts, including Passover which lasts 7 days. In addtion, every 7th year they were supposed to let the land rest and not work it (Just look at us now with industrial farming completely raping our soil of all nutrients, till we get to the point of barrenness, and me never taking Sabbaths and feeling out-of-my-mind stressed.)
Finally, every 50th year is the year of Jubilee where all land and possessions get restored to their original owners—slaves are freed, and everything is set equal again.
I would like daily, weekly, yearly, and life-stage rests as well...
I would also like to build some Religion around the seasons. Every winter I get depressed. Maybe my Religion needs to account for that. Once a month, my hormones get out of wack…maybe I need some Religion around my menstral cycle that so it doen’t take me by surprise. By the way, in Leviticus, the women had to hang out in a tent outside of town during their menstral cycle. Think of what it would do for the culture if all PMSing women spent time alone with other women instead of handling the demands of life?
We need for a rhythm of creating and resting. Just like God, from the very beginning!
Finally, AA and Leviticus were communal Religions. Everything took place in an atmosphere of accountability and obedience. Its not that there was one athourity that is always right, but that we learn obedience to God by being obedient to others…to our corporate Religion, to people in our life we choose to submit our lives to.
We’ve heard it all before, I am not going to tell you a rule for your life…heck I don’t even know what mine is. But I wanted to leave you with two things. Think about two categories of disciplines.
1) Disciplines that could help you stop to hear the song,
2) Disciplines that help you learn how to play it.
We want to learn how to play the song. Leviticus/and AA tell us how to be holy not in emotion, intention or religious feeling, but in the details of everyday life. We need religion. At the same time, we need to make sure we do not become legalistic.
We can ask ourselves the following questions:
Does my religion reflect my love for God?
Or does it show that I love control/rules, something else more?
Can I thank God for my Religion?
Does it help me love myself/others?
What I need to talk about today is my religion. When people ask me if I am religious, I say, “no, just spiritual.” Because religion seems bad…rules….ahh…I want no rules…after all, its for freedom that Christ set us free right?
We have all been burned by other people's rules. Back in Mark 7 Jesus says, “They worship me in vain; their teachings are but rules taught by men." Legalism is damaging. Legalism is us trying to please God…It is us convincing others that they need our Religion…(I don’t work on Sundays and you shouldn’t either; you must read the Bible every morning; you must serve the homeless).
Wikipedia says: Religion is an organized approach to human spirituality which encompasses a set of beliefs and practices. It is socially defined and includes specific behaviors.
I have been trying to read the bible from start to finish, and I got in to dreaded Leviticus. Eugene Peterson’s introduction to the book startled me, and convicted me that I needed to find me some religion. He starts off “One of the stubbornly enduring habits of the human race is to insist on domesticating God. But our Scriptures are even more stubborn in telling us that we can’t do it. “The Book of Leviticus is a narrative pause in the story of our ancestors as they were on their way, saved out of Egypt, to settle in the land of Canaan. The moment these people enter Canaan, they will be picking their way through a lethal minefield of Gods and Goddesses that are designed to appeal to our God fantasies. 'Give us what we want when we want it on our own terms.' What these God-fantasies do in fact do is cripple or kill us. Leviticus is a start at the 'much teaching and long training' that continues to be adapted and reworked in every country and culture where God is forming a saved people to live as he created them to live—Holy as God is holy."
Throughout all of the Old Testiment, it is clear that even if God’s people screwed up and didn’t offer the right sacrifices, they were still in relationship with God. The most disturbing thing about Leviticus is all that blood and guts…popping heads off pigeons, pouring the blood of animals around the alter, two of Aaron’s sons died on the spot for violating the temple with some “strange fire”…another guy died for using the Lord's name in vain (and he was an Egyptian and didn’t know any better.) The majority of Leviticus is about regulations regarding sacrifice. Hebrews says we don’t have to sacrifice animals anymore because Christ’s death was the final sacrifice.
So does any of Leviticus apply to us?
There is a part of the animal sacrificing which was about atonement which clearly doesn’t apply to us. But it also served to prepare the people’s hearts. Micah 6:7-8 says, "Will the LORD be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousand rivers of oil? Shall I offer my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul? He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God."
And Psalm 50 says: "I have no need of a bull from your stall or of goats from your pens, for every animal of the forest is mine, and the cattle on a thousand hills. But He who sacrifices thank offerings honors me, and he prepares the way so that I may show him the salvation of God."
The people needed to sacrifice. As Eugene Peterson’s introduction states, the people’s religion protected them from falling for those gods and goddesses that appealed to their god fantasies (the modern equivalent is our addictions.) Their religion is forming the people into holy people.
People back then had more time on their hands. Money certainly didn’t mean the same thing. Their most valuable possession was their livestock. This is what God wanted them to sacrifice. They needed to give something up…to die to themselves. In the New Testament, Romans talks about becoming a living sacrifice, and Hebrews talks about a sacrifice of praise. So like Leviticus I think my religion ought to contain sacrifice. Which brings me to AA.
I went to the AA retreat a few weekends ago. It was hard and confusing. I was the only non-alcoholic, but I feel as sick and addicted to myself as the rest of them. The food version, Food Addicts Anonymous, asks participants to eat only three meals a day, no carbs, and go to like 4.5 meetings a week. That sounds horrible. Regardless I have moved forward a little.
I went to a Food addicts meeting this week. The girl that was leading, said hi, that we met before, and that we knew each other from seminary. I didn’t recognize her. She just smiled. She was gracious and kind. I listened to her story, and she passed around pictures. She was about 140 lbs, 5’1’’. In her pictures she was 285! Once I saw the pictures I recognized her—I couldn’t believe it!
God didn’t need the blood of animals to forgive us; we needed it. What is the point of a Religion? To ground us. To open us up, to remind us, tap us into the peace that has already been made by Christ. Any ritual that merely piles on a whole new weight of all the ways you aren’t—all the ways you fall short…this is not Christ-centered.
I just heard this analogy. Lets say God is a song. And the song is beautiful, and compelling. In order to follow the Song, we must learn to play it.
A Rhythm for life…getting in tune with God….I have felt really out of tune for a very long time. I like the song…I just don’t know how to play it….I can daydream all I want, but I got some work to do if I want to get better at being in tune. Christ is not asking us if we like the song—he is asking us to play it.
So we want to learn to play the song God is playing. We know we need to practice, we know we need community too play with. With no rules, we are only admirers of the song, and Jesus is not calling us to be simply admirers.
With legalism, we become more interested in how to learn to play, more interested in becoming skilled musicians than learning the song. I guess you could say the Pharisees learned to play the instrument, but they aren’t playing the song.
I will tell you only what I am considering for my religion. First, I think I need the 12-steps. Working through the steps is a continuing cycle of surrender, confession, repentance, amends, and service. While followers of Christ may believe that all of these things are important, especially in the “low church” we tend to try and do all or nothing…never really doing a great job at any of them….because you simply can’t do all of them all the time. I think the 12-steps breaks it down for me. I live a pretty self-centered, stubborn existence. Of course I need to surrender before I can serve!! I need to confess and repent… And I really need to be obedient to something or someone once in a while.12-steps breaks it down for me.
Leviticus is big on a lot of the 12 step stuff too. The whole sacrifice thing was a way of publically confessing sins. Leviticus 6:4 talks about making amends, and restoring what people took from others. Leviticus 19:13 talks about serving strangers.
Also Leviticus has a lot of time for celebration and “hearing the song”. There were seven major holidays each year. Most of us are fragmented, and compartmentalized. We live isolated, independent and private lives. We are too busy…
Every teacher on the special education team at work is on either antidepression or anti anxiety medication. One more option, problem, commitment, expectation, purchase, debt, change, job, one more decision. We need a space between our routine and survival mode. Something held in reserve for the spontaneous. We need time to hear the song!
The Hebrews celebrated not only a nightly rest, But a weekly Sabbath, and seven yearly feasts, including Passover which lasts 7 days. In addtion, every 7th year they were supposed to let the land rest and not work it (Just look at us now with industrial farming completely raping our soil of all nutrients, till we get to the point of barrenness, and me never taking Sabbaths and feeling out-of-my-mind stressed.)
Finally, every 50th year is the year of Jubilee where all land and possessions get restored to their original owners—slaves are freed, and everything is set equal again.
I would like daily, weekly, yearly, and life-stage rests as well...
I would also like to build some Religion around the seasons. Every winter I get depressed. Maybe my Religion needs to account for that. Once a month, my hormones get out of wack…maybe I need some Religion around my menstral cycle that so it doen’t take me by surprise. By the way, in Leviticus, the women had to hang out in a tent outside of town during their menstral cycle. Think of what it would do for the culture if all PMSing women spent time alone with other women instead of handling the demands of life?
We need for a rhythm of creating and resting. Just like God, from the very beginning!
Finally, AA and Leviticus were communal Religions. Everything took place in an atmosphere of accountability and obedience. Its not that there was one athourity that is always right, but that we learn obedience to God by being obedient to others…to our corporate Religion, to people in our life we choose to submit our lives to.
We’ve heard it all before, I am not going to tell you a rule for your life…heck I don’t even know what mine is. But I wanted to leave you with two things. Think about two categories of disciplines.
1) Disciplines that could help you stop to hear the song,
2) Disciplines that help you learn how to play it.
We want to learn how to play the song. Leviticus/and AA tell us how to be holy not in emotion, intention or religious feeling, but in the details of everyday life. We need religion. At the same time, we need to make sure we do not become legalistic.
We can ask ourselves the following questions:
Does my religion reflect my love for God?
Or does it show that I love control/rules, something else more?
Can I thank God for my Religion?
Does it help me love myself/others?
Friday, March 6, 2009
Powerlessness/insanity
I am powerless before sugar. I can quit candy for a while. One time I quit candy for 6 months--because I told my friend Ang that every time I ate candy I would owe the Catholic church $150. At the sixth month mark I was on a mission trip with a bunch of middle schoolers, and I couldn't take it. The anxiety was too much, and the Slovakian people offered us endless mini-cakes. By the end of the 2 week mission, I owed the Catholic church $1,050.
I quit for a month this fall--a total cleanse in an effort to kill the army of candida yeast I could picture living in my stomach. When I went to my church retreat, I ate whatever I wanted and my body reacted violently. I spent the weekend throwing up and farting (I was sharing a room with, among others, Wonderful Mike...alas, our relationship was over before it began).
Usually when I swear off sugar, I start making exceptions. Granola bars are not too too sugary. And Farley's Fruit Snacks have real fruit in them! Dark chocolate is supposedly healthy for me...and animal crackers are really crackers, right? Fundamentally, chocolate chip cookies are not really much different than cliff bars, which are healthy. And, if you break it down, eggs and butter are dairy products, wheat and sugar are plant products. Plus Red Vines always taste better from that big plastic tub, and no one buys those for just themselves, so I should take advantage of them when they are around, because I won't get another chance. And free food, it might go to waste if I don't eat it. If its around the holidays (and aren't we aways near a holiday?) there are all these special treats that only get put on the shelves once a year...and then after the holidays, those treats are so cheap! I can't pass up a bargain like that! And so it goes, until I am eating only candy. When I am not retreating to candy, I can still find solice in bread. Have you ever tasted Ezekial bread? Its not too delicious--but I can still OD on it. Scenes of horror include gorging on granola bars and raisonettes in the bike room in college, stealing desert from every roommate I have ever had (with my current roommate, I got into a cycle of eating her candy, replacing it, eating what I replaced, replacing it again). I wonder of the school cameras have caught me repeatedly stealing candy from the poor kid stash of treats. Invariably at the store I talk myself into buying a quantity of treats (for the week, month, year?), telling myself I will ration them out. I usually ration them over a period of about a day.
I am not only powerless over food. I am powerless over my depression, my "death wish", my anxiety, my chaos. I am powerless over growing, changing. I am powerless over my wanderlust, my resistance to staying on a schedule, a budget, a plan. I am powerless over my attraction to "quick-fix," "the good life," "the life that is just around the corner if only I could..." I am powerless over my obsession with fabulousness, my tendancy to become the "hot police." I can't stop staying up too late, and checking my many email accounts. I feel sorry for myself, and if I try and stop, I feel sorry for myself about how hard it is for me to stop feeling sorry for myself.
I am powerless over filling my schedule too full, cutting into Sabbath, and sleep-time and rest with frenic activities.
I think I will have more later.
"You may be powerless over your addictions, but you are responsible for your recovery."~an AA saying.
I quit for a month this fall--a total cleanse in an effort to kill the army of candida yeast I could picture living in my stomach. When I went to my church retreat, I ate whatever I wanted and my body reacted violently. I spent the weekend throwing up and farting (I was sharing a room with, among others, Wonderful Mike...alas, our relationship was over before it began).
Usually when I swear off sugar, I start making exceptions. Granola bars are not too too sugary. And Farley's Fruit Snacks have real fruit in them! Dark chocolate is supposedly healthy for me...and animal crackers are really crackers, right? Fundamentally, chocolate chip cookies are not really much different than cliff bars, which are healthy. And, if you break it down, eggs and butter are dairy products, wheat and sugar are plant products. Plus Red Vines always taste better from that big plastic tub, and no one buys those for just themselves, so I should take advantage of them when they are around, because I won't get another chance. And free food, it might go to waste if I don't eat it. If its around the holidays (and aren't we aways near a holiday?) there are all these special treats that only get put on the shelves once a year...and then after the holidays, those treats are so cheap! I can't pass up a bargain like that! And so it goes, until I am eating only candy. When I am not retreating to candy, I can still find solice in bread. Have you ever tasted Ezekial bread? Its not too delicious--but I can still OD on it. Scenes of horror include gorging on granola bars and raisonettes in the bike room in college, stealing desert from every roommate I have ever had (with my current roommate, I got into a cycle of eating her candy, replacing it, eating what I replaced, replacing it again). I wonder of the school cameras have caught me repeatedly stealing candy from the poor kid stash of treats. Invariably at the store I talk myself into buying a quantity of treats (for the week, month, year?), telling myself I will ration them out. I usually ration them over a period of about a day.
I am not only powerless over food. I am powerless over my depression, my "death wish", my anxiety, my chaos. I am powerless over growing, changing. I am powerless over my wanderlust, my resistance to staying on a schedule, a budget, a plan. I am powerless over my attraction to "quick-fix," "the good life," "the life that is just around the corner if only I could..." I am powerless over my obsession with fabulousness, my tendancy to become the "hot police." I can't stop staying up too late, and checking my many email accounts. I feel sorry for myself, and if I try and stop, I feel sorry for myself about how hard it is for me to stop feeling sorry for myself.
I am powerless over filling my schedule too full, cutting into Sabbath, and sleep-time and rest with frenic activities.
I think I will have more later.
"You may be powerless over your addictions, but you are responsible for your recovery."~an AA saying.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Ireland
You creap into my thoughts like the rust on my bike as it breaths your humid, salty air. I love your pubs, even though I don't like Guinness. Your self-effacing humor shrugs off addictions, loss, abuse. I know you already. Sprinting through the cobblestone streets in the pouring rain at night on the left side of the road feels natural. Your steep single lain byways demand my smallest gears--even with my triple road chainrings on the front and mountain bike cog in the rear. Your dense forests trap your fog, dripping lush carpets of moss. I wander down main streets--past my bed time--and you are just getting started. You are both behind and ahead. You never caught on to industrial farming, and now all your small farms produce sought-after organic produce. Not red-lipped sirens in stillettos, your beauty is strength, warmth, humility.
Pale-faces, freckles, hair red or black, reminds me of love, fire, passion, danger. Amateurs in Croke park die sometimes when bludgeoned by a sliotar--yet you do not wear helmets. Old marriages stick not because of fear of losing comfort and convenience, but stalwart commitment. Mostly athiests--your young are sick of the pain of believing all the others are wrong. I never went to the town of Lusk. You seem satisfied with less. You don't have to be the smartest, fastest, strongest, most beautiful. Youth travel for a year after high school--mostly to South America. I wonder why. I daydream about you.
Should I move there? I am getting a degree in school counseling and you don't even have school counselors. Your weather just screams seasonal depression. Traveling back to the states often would be too expensive...I would give up authentic relationship with my family. I have never fancied myself an expatriate. I have a house here, a church. Still I am strangely pulled....
Pale-faces, freckles, hair red or black, reminds me of love, fire, passion, danger. Amateurs in Croke park die sometimes when bludgeoned by a sliotar--yet you do not wear helmets. Old marriages stick not because of fear of losing comfort and convenience, but stalwart commitment. Mostly athiests--your young are sick of the pain of believing all the others are wrong. I never went to the town of Lusk. You seem satisfied with less. You don't have to be the smartest, fastest, strongest, most beautiful. Youth travel for a year after high school--mostly to South America. I wonder why. I daydream about you.
Should I move there? I am getting a degree in school counseling and you don't even have school counselors. Your weather just screams seasonal depression. Traveling back to the states often would be too expensive...I would give up authentic relationship with my family. I have never fancied myself an expatriate. I have a house here, a church. Still I am strangely pulled....
Monday, March 2, 2009
Goodbye island reef dreams.
My principal and Vice Principal received my email:
Wendy and John,
It has been a tough decision, but I have decided to resign my teaching position at the end of the 08-09 school year. It has been a pleasure to work under you, and I look forward to finishing the year strong. Thank you for the opportunity to learn from you.
Respectfully,
Jaimie
I spent the weekend creating a budget in order to get a jump-start on being jobless. I started working the 12-steps, I worked on my sermon next week, and slept. Like a big, dumb ox, I keep my head down, and trudge faithfully along...but secretly counted down until the Island Reef Job was short-listed.
I pictured the Australia Tourism Board falling in love with me. Not because I was the most fabulous, but like "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" I just fit. I was not the most beautiful, or witty, but I was the most wise, mature, down-to-earth; I was the "underdog" and I was SOO HUMBLE.
I didn't make the shortlist. To mourn my loss, I just wasted two hours of my life watching the 50 short-listed candidates. All except 5 were exceptionally hot. (My one friend calls me the "hot police"--she says I immediately size people up--"hot" or "not-hot"...) There was gorgeous journalist from India with her own show on the discovery channel, who plans on saving the world through ecoawareness, a biologist from Canada who wrote a muscial, complete with a chorus line, several amazing Australian videographer/photographers, a few zany jumping-beans who traveled by car over 12,000 miles through Africa or something like that, a few professional adventurists, a crazy Indian DJ, a pixie who works for the cambodian tourism board as a diver, three candidates who speak five languages, a really hot old guy, a russian model/scientist, "Young Australian of the Year," an 8-time national rugby champion, a New Zealander in charge of the New Zealand travel show, and several actors/actresses.
At least I don't have to worry about the little things, like "What if they would have gotten the better quality version of my movie?" "What if I was 20lbs lighter?"
My video turned out well, but these people were another level. Seeing as how I am frumpy, pregnant with a chocolate baby, I just wasn't the bikini candidate. My film was the first one I ever edited--it did not compare with the professionals. However, I did convince a classroom full of 7th graders to do my bidding for 20 minutes, which no other candidate attempted.
Wendy and John,
It has been a tough decision, but I have decided to resign my teaching position at the end of the 08-09 school year. It has been a pleasure to work under you, and I look forward to finishing the year strong. Thank you for the opportunity to learn from you.
Respectfully,
Jaimie
I spent the weekend creating a budget in order to get a jump-start on being jobless. I started working the 12-steps, I worked on my sermon next week, and slept. Like a big, dumb ox, I keep my head down, and trudge faithfully along...but secretly counted down until the Island Reef Job was short-listed.
I pictured the Australia Tourism Board falling in love with me. Not because I was the most fabulous, but like "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" I just fit. I was not the most beautiful, or witty, but I was the most wise, mature, down-to-earth; I was the "underdog" and I was SOO HUMBLE.
I didn't make the shortlist. To mourn my loss, I just wasted two hours of my life watching the 50 short-listed candidates. All except 5 were exceptionally hot. (My one friend calls me the "hot police"--she says I immediately size people up--"hot" or "not-hot"...) There was gorgeous journalist from India with her own show on the discovery channel, who plans on saving the world through ecoawareness, a biologist from Canada who wrote a muscial, complete with a chorus line, several amazing Australian videographer/photographers, a few zany jumping-beans who traveled by car over 12,000 miles through Africa or something like that, a few professional adventurists, a crazy Indian DJ, a pixie who works for the cambodian tourism board as a diver, three candidates who speak five languages, a really hot old guy, a russian model/scientist, "Young Australian of the Year," an 8-time national rugby champion, a New Zealander in charge of the New Zealand travel show, and several actors/actresses.
At least I don't have to worry about the little things, like "What if they would have gotten the better quality version of my movie?" "What if I was 20lbs lighter?"
My video turned out well, but these people were another level. Seeing as how I am frumpy, pregnant with a chocolate baby, I just wasn't the bikini candidate. My film was the first one I ever edited--it did not compare with the professionals. However, I did convince a classroom full of 7th graders to do my bidding for 20 minutes, which no other candidate attempted.
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