Archive for April, 2007

Binge Journal #7

A much more controlled Binge weekend!

I did not restrict myself or outright stop myself from binging this weekend, but I tried to fill my time with things to do and watch for the emotional triggers that help launch these extended eat-a-thons. And you know what? I did pretty good.

I would say Sunday was my worst. I was a little sad when I left my companion in the afternoon and found myself eating a little too much. Just recognizing it made it harder to continue the behavior. I did replace by smoking a little too much weed, but all in all I was better able to curb the constant stuffing.

I also was trying, trying to be more conscious and centered when I was actaully eating a meal. Trying to be more aware, as I actually put food in my mouth, chewed and swallowed to give more thought, time and meaning to the food that I am cramming into my mouth.

But this is all so hard and I am commited to taking baby steps so that I don’t turn this into work.

I can see the results already as my midsection is slightly smaller and my face, sallower.

Boomer

(It’s boiling and bravado, time waster
and mind thumbing and wandering tastily,
testy, punctured about boards of
plenty and air)

Terry cloth suit and black bow tie, you gave
me all the smarts and half the selflessness. You gave
pina colada, tequila, brown bread and beer.

You gave inundation, inundation,
then leave me solo to settle
in with nothing. Old and solemn
dignity and class, the brokeback moment
the strike back glance and blah,

blah blah blah…

old old old.

Will a generation ever let go, gracefully
timely…in olden times
in olden times
old. Let go, let go.

Weigh-layed
predominant, synchronized,
abandoned…

let go, let go. Old.

I Can’t Go Places By Myself

A little latch-key kid that doesn’t know how to go outside by himself and who wants to go out and play, can’t be expected to do it alone, maybe eventually, but not at first.

Wanted: pal. Not sure if age matters. Intelligence: high. Witty: high. Self confidence: strong…

Social Anxiety Disorder means you can’t go places by yourself and when you do go with people you have to explain the situation with them and hope they don’t have their own set of ill societal malfunctions.

Going outside is like eyeballs and judgments falling all over you; eyes and thoughts judging - lazar eye-balling you.

And so being inside, pot - tv - binge, isn’t enough anymore. Not enough. I want more and want to see more and be more.

Binge Journal #6

(Saturday April 14)

I ate like crazy and felt lonely and sad all day (coincidence?). I think I even avoided being with some other people despite the fact that I knew it would help me feel less lonely and might have actually stopped me from bingeing.

I used to do this all the time - stay alone, avoid people and eat. But more and more this behavior is not very much fun.

Alone, smoke, binge - repeat!

Now to be more specific, it was mostly in the afternoon/evening that this behavior starts and with the night hours being the absolute worst.

I am so lonely right now in my life. In a city of 14 million I am at my loneliest. I am not liking my friends very much and not happy with my activities. I want a girlfriend.

It has always been like this but before there were defense mechanisms in place that helped me avoid see this pattern and feeling this pain. But now is the time to feel the pain and thus, do something about it…

Binge Journal #5

When I eat, often, I don’t want to stop. Just keep going and keep going till I fill up and explode. To stuff myself full. To fill me up…

Church

that fags have hags, the weathermen, maps,
window screens and windsocks too greasy

to touch, covering, storm blowing, lifted…

I’m living history, living perspective
a thick primordial haze in a mind’s
eye of glass and urge: an “I loved you

in a twisted invitation deeper
than the earth itself, deeper
than truth, deeper and gone.”

Your Trinity, your Judas, their
dentures, his glass eye - If the
Me Generation is to redeem

focus on me all the way inward to
fix, to justify this journey and live
the extent to which change is natural.

re: am I dysfunctional?

I would say that anyone exposed to an alcoholic like your mom was would then be lacking in some of the self-parenting skills needed by a healthy individual to grow and florish.

And if mom didn’t get the skills needed, maybe she couldn’t have passed them on to you.

And then everything you talk about that she did to you sounds like exactly what most of us has experienced living with an alcoholic personality…actually she sounds a lot like my mom!

In a larger sense and after having been in this recovery for 5 years, I am seeing the pervasiveness that this issue is imbedded in our society. Millions upon millions of people all lacking in the proper self-parenting skills.

I think the biggest thing is to look at your own situation honestly and work to clear up your own areas where you feel you need help.

In other words: Welcome to ACOA. This is about healing your inner self. Be it alcohol, drug abuse, work-a-holic, dry drunk…we are a people waking up to our true selves and maybe even evolving to be happier, more self-supporting human beings.

Honest self-evaluation is the first step.

Great job Joyce.

Drew
———————————————————————————-
Joyce said:

Hello — I was wondering if anyone has experience or knowledge of grandchildren of alcoholics? My maternal Grandmother was an alcoholic and my Mother suffered a miserable childhood — except for the days she spent with “her” grandmother. My Mother is now 79 years old and is a wonderfully, sweet person who raised my 4 brothers and I .. after my father died of cancer. She provided a clean and safe home environment.

I am blessed that I was not abused nor did I suffer growing up with an alcoholic parent. However, my Mother has never had a positive self-esteem and she consistently “put us down” during our childhood. I am confident she did not know she was doing this .. she was never cruel … she was more negative .. such as, “Why would you want to try out for that club, you’ll never be admitted?” “You have such stringy hair.” “Oh, you know Susan, she’s just bashful.” “Oh, my son John applied for that job but he’ll never get it.” “Why is your name printed in bold — did you do something wrong?” “Why is your marriage in trouble — are you not cooking for your husband?” Again, I do not believe she doubted us … instead, she doubted her own abilities and unconsciously viewed us as “products of her” .. thus, how could she promote us when she felt so inferior herself? She seemed to believe that it was better to negate us … or she would seem boastful.

The result after many, many years of this — has been that we all suffer major self-esteem issues. It has contributed to bad marriages. We never discuss anything directly — rather we all seem to hide behind dysfunction. Our respective spouses battle one another over trite issues and we pretend it is not happening or we refuse to acknowledge it and how it hurts their feelings. We are afraid to address the issues. We doubt our own abilities which has limited our careers at times. Some of us have spent $1000’s of dollars on therapy.

Even as I write this, I feel guilty. I know some of you have suffered unspeakable harm — and I am complaining about this? Sometimes, I feel it would be easier to accept had I been raised by an alcoholic.

However, a therapist told me that grandchildren of alcoholics can suffer some of the same dysfunction … even if there is never a drop of alcohol in their homes.

I’m sorry to bother you with this — however, I struggle with it daily. Now that I am in my mid-40’s, it seems to be bothering me more .. maybe mid-life crisis. I have tried the technique of self-talk and re-parenting myself, but without much success.

A friend referred me to the ACA website and the “laundry list” sounded SO FAMILIAR to me. However, there are no chapters within 150 miles of where I live.

If anyone can relate or has advice, I will certainly be thankful. I appreciate the opportunity to share this today.

Binge Journal #4

Just want to eat and eat and eat…nighttime, boredom, boredom not real, no hole. Big hole, big hole in my chest to fill, to stuff. I can’t feel whether I am full from the meal I just ate or still hungry. I assume I’m still hungry, believe I’m still hungry and would like to eat like I was starving.

I like to eat, big mouthfuls of food. I eat mindlessly, I eat, I eat. There is no hole, there is no hole. And this is all of my own machinations and still is.

I can be in control of me. I have changed big things in my life like deep emotions and habits. I can change this. I finally want to change this.

Other People’s Lives

Man does this that home!

I do this a lot as well. Mulling over what other people are doing, conjecturing, imagining and making it have something to do with me when the truth is…it is none of my business. None.

What does this have to do with my work, my recovery and who I am as a human being?

I mean, in Betty’s case it is her EX-lover and she is working there but beyond that…what business of it is hers? And to make conjecture about what they are doing and imagine all kinds of things seems like such a waste of her brilliant, beautiful mind.

Not to mention taking these things we imagine personally! Wow, I do that all the time! It takes a brilliant mind to think of all this stuff, but what a waste of time and energy.

Why do we do this? Why do we give our excellent minds to such trite stuff?

Almost seems like a defense mechanism so we don’t have to think about the real problem: ourself…
———————————————————————————-
I am having such a hard time with this. I have this suspicion that my married “friend” at work is having an affair with my former lover. They spend SO much time together…and it’s so obvious that even if they are not getting physical, there is something between them!

It makes me physically ill to think of them together, especially since she doesn’t know he & I slept together and she supposedly has a happy marriage!

Jealous feelings aside, it’s not something I EVER suspected that either of them would do!

I’m trying to let it go and realize it has nothing to do with me, but it HURTS.

Betty

crazy (070404)

Gen X meets Femme Fatale

Main Character - Matt

Matt is Generation X through and through, brilliant yet slightly withdrawn (who am I) - He’s adult child…a boy in a man’s body yet highly functional as he is a Doctor. Yet emotionally, you always get the feeling that he is on the edge of falling apart.

Being the child of a divorce he exhibits a lot of the earmarks of this type of person: defensive, sped-up, hyper-active, nervous, paranoid, jealous, emotionally cracked, clingy, falls in love fast, afraid of women…

He is scared of women and feels sometimes that they know what he is thinking. He think that no woman would want to have anything to do with him. He wants to be able to approach women and be the stud doctor like his new friends from the Hospital, but, he really thinks that he doesn’t have what it takes.

With women he gets incredibly clingy with the least bit of attention and if things go far enough and he starts liking the female, he gets obsessive and paranoid, jealous and squirrley.

Next Page »