My food addiction revelation

     So I'm standing in the mirror, just after a shower and getting frustrated at yet another hive-pimple breakout on my cheek. 
     And I have this ah-ha moment that's kind of depressing. I realize I have to admit something. Not just to myself, but to this blog and to anyone who will listen. Because God told me to share. (Read yesterday's entry.) 
     (Side note: It's really a big DANG IT moment, because I don't know about you, but I HATE admitting my weaknesses. Some people call that prideful. It's genetic in my neck of the woods.) 
     I am addicted to food. Sugary food. Chocolate food. Unhealthy food. All food. 
     I have a real problem. Really. I have a really real problem with food. 
     There. It's out. It hurts. 
     Right before my shower, I hate a fourth of a half-gallon of Praire Farms ice cream. It sat in my fridge for well over a week, and nobody ate it. So today in a moment of weakness that was just like all the others I had in the week that I was somehow able to overcome, I succumbed to it. I don't know why this time was different. I certainly was able to ignore that mouth-watering picture of a cow (Just kidding, cows don't make my mouth water. Well, maybe a little) a dozen other times I opened the freezer this week. But today, I ate it. I intended to eat just two bites. You know, because the "experts" say you really only need a couple bites to satisfy a craving. (What do they know?) 
     I bargained with myself. 
     I'll eat just a little more than that. 
     In my mind, I visually carved out a section that would be "acceptable" to eat. The smaller portion on the left side of the container, which was really just a few more bites than the two I intended. Then I decided I would eat from that carton until the computer finally opened a program I was waiting to use. 
     But the computer was so slow. Another bite. Then another. I was eating as slow as the computer was working. So, you can see, it wasn't really my fault I ate it all, because it was the darn computer. The longer I waited for the computer to open the program, the more frustrated I became. The more frustrated I became, the more I justified the food in my hand. 
     It wasn't my fault, after all. It was the stupid computer. 
     Then I went to hide the ice cream container in the trash, which was overflowing. So I stuffed it in the bag, put something bigger over it and took the trash out to the garage. 
     I dusted off my hands — mission covert food addiction accomplished — and hopped in the shower. 
     There's NO DOUBT my complexion is related to the sugar or the dairy,  both of which I can hardly tolerate in large amounts. My reflection tells me a truth I don't want to acknowledge, and it doesn't lie. 
     But here's another truth. I'm normally so much better with food choices. I had been freed from the pain and suffering caused by years of abusive eating more than a year ago thanks to my full-body cellular cleansing and fat-burning replenishment system via Isagenix. 
      Well, I thought I was. 
     I used my pregnancy — not as an excuse, because excuses are excusable. Rather I used my pregnancy to justify something I should not be doing. That carried over in breastfeeding. Don't ask how, but in my mind, it all made sense. Extra calories. Pampering my body, which was suffering the ups and downs — mostly downs — of pregnancy and then caring for a newborn. And the struggles of early breastfeeding. 
     You may be wondering why this is any big deal at all. I mean, is ice cream bad? Most people don't think so in the slightest. 
      The truth is, yes and no. This product is made of ingredients that make me sick. They make everyone sick, if we're honest, but they make me sicker than most people. And I KNOW in my heart that I can satisfy that craving with something healthy. I also KNOW I could have stopped at two bites. I also KNOW I could have recognized the signs a few more bites in that I was emotionally eating. I also KNOW that I was playing games to justified my bad choice. 
     I guess I'm making progress, because I'm seeing it more clearly now, even if in retrospective. I understand what I'm doing. I know it's wrong, and I want to make right choices. I want to make right choices because I've cleansed my body, which helped me in all ways with cravings. I know that a clean body wants what it needs, not what's sitting in the freezer. And I know when my body is alkaline and clean, it functions so much better. Gone is the restlessness, the mental fog and the lack of energy throughout the day. My pain was resolved once I made better choices in my diet. My eating habits made my body function better, and I was much happier. That's right, eating good food (which doesn't include Prairie Farms ice cream, believe it or not!) made me happier. Feed the body, fuel the mind!
     Yet here I was stumbling. I had just told my husband two days earlier I had a food addiction. I admitted that I had bought a Reese's PB cup in the store checkout that day. 
     So what, he said. That doesn't mean you're addicted to food.  
     Bless him. He's so nice. He loves me, and he doesn't want me to feel bad about myself. He never has. So in a way, he helps me justify. I don't want him to help me justify. I want to be free again. 
     I hid the wrapper in a zipper pocket of my purse, I said. 

Evidence of my food addiction can be found tucked away in undisclosed locations. 

     It's not like it was the first time, I said, but just in my head this time. 
     I realized that it's a thing I do. It's a thing I've always done. 
     Sure, there are some people who eat giant stacks of Oreos and 65-ounce sodas out in the open. They may know it's bad or that it's unhealthy. Heck, they may even realize they have a food addiction. They may be struggling. I don't know, because they aren't me. I just know my food addiction is a covert one. It's hard for me to admit. I think the ones who do it openly might have more integrity than me. But let's be honest, a food addiction is dangerous and the struggle is real no matter where the battleground is. 
     Even harder than food addiction, at least for me, is admitting that the food controls me. I allow the food to control me. I'm out of control. 
     I said this to my husband, tears streaming down my face. He made some joke about how he was on his second lunch. He was. But both were relatively healthy. I don't see him binging on ice cream. Ever. 
     Besides, I said. I'm not here to condemn or point out anyone else's eating habits. I am here to say, I have a problem, and I need help. 
     The truth is Isagenix was a tool that helped me overcome the food addiction I wasn't even admitting I had a year ago. Now that I KNOW I have a problem, I'm using the fact that I can't cleanse as an excuse to further justify my bad behavior. 
     I still have some tools. The products I can eat have some qualities to assist me with the addiction, plus I can utilize Rod Hairston's wonderful new coaching program for a healthy mind and body. (I'm in heaven about this addition to a company that already stands for integrity and completeness in everything it does!) And I still and always have the power of prayer. Now, I can add to my tools that I have knowledge, which I've been told is power. (Ha! See how I did that there?)
     Much as I hated admitting I'm addicted to food, God — in his infinite wisdom — blessed me with a girl's writing yesterday to confirm that I am SUPPOSED to share this with you. Isabelle Loux has written about her struggles with anxiety and depression, writing I'm blessed that she's allowing to be published in Mighty Strong Girls. But the truth is, her perspective has blessed me as the writing of so many girls in this ministry has! 
     They constantly remind me that we don't get help in the dark. We MUST bring our struggles into the light. There, we find hope, mercy, Jesus, forgiveness and community. We discover we aren't alone, and mostly importantly, we help one another. 
     If this resonates with you, then join me, please. Help me be accountable, and I'll help you. Let's live this struggle out — in the light. Let this post be the start of a conversation, and let's get really real with one another!

Gluten....it's gotta go!

     So it seems after an eight-week gluten-free trial earlier this year, this little protein that shows up most commonly in wheat is the culprit that has been wreaking havoc on my gut for the last nine years. 
     GLUTEN. 
     The very thing I scoffed at years ago. The very thing I was so thankful wasn't "my problem" is very much my problem. Ha! 
     I didn't want it to be my problem because I didn't want to give up bread, pancakes, cookies, brownies, etc. 
     Countless emergency room visits and (pardon the TMI here) horrendous, excruciating painful gas left me doubled over in pain for days -- strung together for weeks of misery. Sometimes I couldn't get out of bed the pain was so bad!
     This gluten-free thing all started when I found a study of 275 or so endometriosis patients who did a gluten-free diet for 12 months. After a year, 75 percent of them were nearly pain free! 
     That's all I needed to hear. Early this year, when discussing my options once again with my doctor, I was determined to avoid surgery and drastic treatments for endometriosis -- mostly because it just keeps coming back, even after surgery. If I couldn't be pain-free with surgery, what was the point? I wanted a permanent solution. I craved long-lasting healing. 
     So I cut out all gluten from my diet for four weeks, which turned into six for safe measure and then eight. 
     I certainly felt no different after that time, so when I was out one weekend working on Mighty Strong Girls interviews on the road, I began eating gluten again. A big Arby's roast beef sandwich for lunch and then Avanti's -- pasta and bread -- for dinner. Two days later, I thought I was dying. It was pretty bad. Nausea, sweating, pain in the entire abdomen. 
     That's when it occurred to me that gluten may or may not lessen my endometriosis symptoms, but it certainly could be the culprit for the undiagnosed pain I had experienced for years in my upper abdomen. Tests were all inclusive. Not really a gall bladder problem. No ulcers. No scarring from reflux, but that's what they ended up saying I was suffering from -- acid reflux. 
     Again with the TMI, I had awful, embarrassing, painful and sometimes stinky gas. I wasn't sure what it was related to, though my doctor said it can be a symptom of endo.  
     It's been six months since my trial, and going gluten-free has changed my life! I feel so much better. I rarely have gas, and when I do, it's not painful. No more stomach problems and pains, and severely lessened pain related to endometriosis. 
     The key to determining my sensitivity to gluten was reintroducing it, which I'm not sure I would recommend! 
     I'm sharing this because more and more people are going on gluten-free diets. Not because it's a weight-loss thing (it's not!) but because gluten is the result of food that has been altered over the years. Like so much of our diet, it's processed. It's not the natural state of wheat. It's unnatural. And it's likely the reason for lots of illnesses, including those that affect the brain. 
     The good news is that there are now lots of gluten-free products available in almost every supermarket. I can still eat all the bread products I want, which may or may not be a good thing!
     I've read tons of articles on gluten, but I found this one fairly easy, straight-forward and all-encompassing. I highly recommend anyone who has a digestive, brain or inflammation type of illness read it, go on a gluten-free trial and see for yourself if you don't experience major freedom in your own health! 

http://authoritynutrition.com/6-shocking-reasons-why-gluten-is-bad/   Be sure to also read the linked article at the end!

We are overcomers!

A few days ago, my super brave, super awesome cousin Anne posted something raw and authentic on Facebook that made me think about how I see myself and how women see and treat their bodies.

She agreed to let me share what she had to say: 

     Why am I so nervous to post this…
     I have a laziness problem and I know it.
     Let me start by stating what I want.
     My objective is…to be healthier in every way. I want to get into shape by becoming more active, eating less and more healthy, and to stop pretending that I can change tomorrow when I need to change immediately. I have plenty of family history to prove that I’ll end up with diabetes (or something worse) much sooner than I realize and I have to stop kidding myself that I can do it alone. How would I really like to tackle this? I’d be able to afford a fat farm and disappear for 3-6 months only to emerge as I should be and no one would have to tell me I look great or ask me how I’m doing along the way. I know that’s not how it works, but I have this weird problem with being complemented when I don’t think I should be. I put myself in this situation, and I don’t want anyone asking me if I’ve lost weight. I want to get healthy in my own little bubble and just go about business without having any focus placed on me. That being said…
     This is a way for me to admit to myself that I have to stop pretending I can motivate myself on my own and that things are not going to change by ignoring the situation. I’m not stupid. I know what and how I’m supposed to get in shape, but I have a serious motivation problem and I need help. I’ve started all kinds of diets and workouts, and I’ve tried relying on people to provide accountability before but something always happens and I (and those trying to motivate me) give up. Please spare me the lecture about how this decision has to come solely from me (or don’t), but I when I was active I was being coached and yelled at all along the way and rarely did anything just because I wanted to do it. Cross-country, track, basketball, volleyball, cheerleading…about the only thing I actually tried to work on outside of actual practice was choir and that didn’t require me to put down the cheeseburger.
     So, I figured I would crowd-source my accountability. Maybe if I opened up about my problems to Facebook, then I could find a number of people that would be willing to remind me not to be lazy on a daily basis. I need a coach, and I can’t afford a live-in trainer. I even considered posting BEFORE pictures and listing my statistics in this post, but I’m WAY too scared to do it because it’s bad. I mean, REAL BAD. I’m glad I missed my 15 year high school reunion and I’m scared to go to my husband’s 20 year reunion in 2 weeks because all I can think about is his classmates going, “Why is he with HER?” Anyways, I’ll end with this. This is not an attempt to fat-shame myself into losing weight. If you’re happy with yourself, then more power to you. I am not happy and therefore, need to change. Who wants to help?
     Eek! I'm so nervous to hit the post button.

     I so resonate with Anne's words! I don't talk about it, because
     1. I hate the weight but worse, I hate how the extra weight makes me feel. I FEEL unhealthy. I don't have the energy to do the things I need to do. Migraines keep me in bed three days a month. That's ridiculous! Life is to dang short! Body aches and pains, sinus issues, etc., etc.
     2. My husband says I'm hot like every day. I think he really means it. And I'm jealous that he is able to love me when I think I'm unlovable. I KNOW to do anything successfully I need to love myself first. Without that, it's not going to work. And yet, telling an overweight woman to be happy when she's clearly not is like picking up Legos while my kids are in the middle of building a replica of Hogwarts. 
     3. We live in a world that values perfection. It's hard enough to live with a problem that shows itself every time you put on a bathing suit, or a pair of jeans, or heck, even a parka, but then when you stumble, it's harder to pick yourself up and get back in the game. 

     But I'm going to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Anne and anyone else who wants to join us. I'm going to be real, like really real. So it could get ugly. It will probably be scary. It might be sad. It most definitely could get hilarious. I hope. Won't you please join us, recruit more and come be part of a new thing -- women helping women, women helping their daughters or their mothers to be overcomers!
     I don't just want to tackle the weighty issue of size but really the whole issue of who I am that encompasses how I feel, think, operate, move and more. Here it is again...it's the whole health thing, the holistic journey. I'm ready! Let's go!