Day 210: An End unto a Beginning

What is it about control?

I didn't realize I had control issues until the past week. Actually, I rather suspected I had some control issues, but never pinned a label on myself and accepted the title of "Control Freak." In so many areas, I have worked hard to yield my desire to dominate and control to my husband, my employers, etc. and have succeeded in many ways... save one.

Food.

This past week, I have taken an extreme plunge into weight loss and have made some serious commitments and life changes (which I will detail later), but that is not what I want to focus on first. I want to explore the lies we (me specifically) tell ourselves about food and our relationship with it.

Last week, I underwent a full panel of medical tests and behavioral analysis in preparation for my next step in the Ruth Cooper Project. Everything seemed to be going well and, being a huge fan of The Biggest Loser, I kept flashing to the many contestants I'd seen as they underwent the same type of testing and evaluation I was undergoing and wondering why it was that so many of them ended up in tears as they spoke of the life circumstances that led them to gain as much as they had.

As the testing drew to a close, I began to congratulate myself on having had no emotional breakdown. All answers were given clearly, succinctly; my personal medical knowledge made it easier for the nurses and doctors to explain issues to me; no tests returned unexpected results - everything was wonderful.

And then I sat down with the primary doctor to go over my file and tests. Very matter-of-factly, she asked brief questions about my relationship with food. Some questions I picked out immediately as being psych profiling and in other questions, I recognized information I'd previously supplied coming back at me in odd ways. None of this caught me off guard or surprised me until she asked me a couple of questions.

The first question had to do with self-esteem and did I eat to make myself feel better or use food to reward my actions. I had to answer yes. Was anyone expressing dissatisfaction with my weight? No. All my self-loathing in this area came directly from me - no one, family member or friend, had ever mentioned how heavy I was. Shocked, I watched her type the term "self abuse" into her notes. Was that true? Was I really abusing myself? I had never before thought of what I was doing in "clinical" terms.

The questions continued and I could feel a bit of emotional shock. Did I eat differently when alone? Yes. I had recently started eating "normally" around other people (including Jason) and eating out-of-control when no one was watching. Did I hide food? At this, my brain felt as if it had stopped working. I'd never really thought of it as hiding food. A donut eaten before arriving at home. A candy bar placed under my desk so Jason wouldn't find it. A piece of chocolate cake smuggled home and never mentioned. Granted, this was a recent occurrence, but that shouldn't be happening at all!

The doctor continued typing and I could feel remorse welling up inside me, thinking about the poor eating decisions I had made over the past two years. A pause in the typing and she turned to me, mentioning that even though I had a dislike of medications and had eschewed them for my whole life, I was still self medicating. I nodded and responded that I had been doing it with food. Perhaps she was looking for a bit of denial because she pressed in and likened the overeating with "food-crack". Again, I agreed quickly, stating that I could see how that would be an appropriate analogy. My guess is that many patients there are still in denial about how they use food and why they overeat... I'd spent too much time thinking about how I got here... and the doctor said that was a good thing.

I have used food because I wanted to be in control; food was the ONE thing in my life I COULD control and I abused that power over and over.

I got married and suddenly, there was no check or accountability on what I could eat or have in the house - after all, I was the one making dinner and shopping for groceries. This weak start in the self-control department only spiraled as God shaped my life (and as I fought against it by eating).

With so many major life changes over the past three years - engagement, wedding planning, honeymoon, marriage, one child, house purchase and move, second child (and, yes, all this has happened in the past three years) - my self-absorbed response to all these changes I could not (keyword here) CONTROL, was to alter the thing I could control and that was my eating.

I controlled it, all right... I controlled to the point where I now weigh 120 pounds more than I did the day I got married two-and-a-half years ago!

Again, I truly didn't realize just how bad I've been until Jason asked me the other day to throw out or give away ALL foods in the house that would not be permitted on our new diet (and that Peter and Mikey won't eat). I fought his request strongly, even with tears. Then God graciously revealed the truth of this conflict: my desire to keep food in the house was because I still wanted to keep some control over my food. At that dawning of truth, I broke and realized I was a control freak and at the very heart of every matter was a refusal to yield either to God or my husband. As long as I had food to control, I would fairly easily comply with requests and directives... and pride myself on being "flexible."

Since last Thursday, when all this began, mine has been a life turned up-side-down. But then again, isn't that when God is able to move in interesting and wonderful ways.

Now, the food is gone and I am, perhaps for the first time in my life, ready to seek new methods for coping with life's stresses.