I’ve talked about my weight fluctuations on here, and even mentioned addiction, but I don’t think I’ve ever directly talked about my Compulsive Overeating Disorder. I want to look right at the problem on this blog, in public, because I think there are a lot of people who have the same problem, and a lot of people who don’t understand what the problem is.
COE isn’t just eating too much. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that the best way to lose weight is to just push away from the table. Thanks, genius. Or my mother, who thinks that what works for her should work for everyone. Her ever-repeated line is “when you make up your mind to do it, you just do it. You don’t ever deviate, no matter the occasion.” Once again, thanks, never would have thought of that one. There are definitely people out there who are overweight because they don’t understand what is in the food they eat, or how that food affects their bodies. I’ve never been one of those people. I read every label, and I understand on a pedestrian but functional level what the numbers on that label mean for my body. I have memorized not only the Weight Watchers points for every food listed in the WW materials, but also the formula for figuring the points so that I can calculate the points of any new foods on the market on the spot. I do not have an information deficit.
I’m also not lazy, or sloppy about my personal appearance, or insecure, or oblivious, or any of the other adjectives I’ve heard people apply to the fat simply for their fatness. What I am is an addict. It took me a long time to see it that way. Like an alcoholic who starts with a few drinks only at parties, and then only at happy hours, and then suddenly finds herself in a bus stop in Phoenix with no shoes and a new tattoo, I can’t really pinpoint when I went over the cliff.
I remember “sneaking” cookies when I was seven. My mother always kept a box of Entemann’s chocolate chip cookies in the freezer. I got three cookies a day in my lunch. Then I’d come home and “steal” one or two more and eat them frozen trying to chew them down before anyone noticed. When I didn’t get “caught”, I started taking more. I’d try to take enough to satisfy my urge (urge, not hunger, I wasn’t hungry), but never so much that I emptied the box. That was my version of being sneaky. How I thought no one would notice that 15 cookies were missing, I don’t know, but for age 7 that’s as analytical as it gets. Then I realized there were other things in the house that could go missing without anyone noticing. The trick was not to open anything sealed, and not to finish anything opened. I drank chocolate syrup and honey directly from the container. I’d smush together margarine and brown sugar and eat it off a spoon. Cereal went down by the handful - no milk required. Ice cream was eaten straight from the container, with care taken to leave the same hill and valley pattern that had been there before. There was a cabinet in the front hall where my mom stuck boxes of chocolates that people gave her as hostess gifts and then forgot about them. I took them up to my room, hid them in my closet, and ate through about a box a day. My favorite after school snack was three slices of muenster cheese melted in the toaster oven until the sides were slightly crisp, then smothered in worchestershire sauce. But the cheese wasn’t my binge, because everyone knew I ate that. The binge was the stuff that I concealed and ate by myself. The problem got worse every year, but I was still a kid with a high metabolism, so the pounds didn’t come on.
The first time I started to gain I was 12 years old. I was at camp. Most people lose weight at camp what with athletics, but I had found creative ways to get out of moving much. Plus, by that age I had more access to food. We were allowed to leave the camp for ice cream and fast food outings. Although we officially weren’t permitted food in the bunks, we had money and we found ways to sneak it in. At “milk and cookies” before Taps every night I consumed a huge amount of both. Sticky buns were served Sunday mornings, and I used to go from table to table to claim any uneaten buns. I wasn’t big, but I put on weight.
From there it went downhill. As I got older I had more time away from home, more access to cash, and with it a growing ability to fuel my binges. Every extra dollar I found went to food. Sure, there were times when I went on a diet and lost weight, or when I could restrain myself for a while, but I always went back. The need was always there, and I couldn’t seem to make it go away. I’d give myself ultimatums, and then revise them infinite times. The pleasure truly was greated than the pain.
I have so much more to say about this topic. Let’s call this Intro to Addiction. I’m thinking I’ll write about this in three parts. The next one will be teenage/early adult years, and the third one will be recognizing and addressing the problem. If I don’t break this up a bit, it will be too long to read in one sitting. Plus, I can’t write about it all at once. Too draining!