Falling Apart

Today I'm falling apart, but it a very good way. I've been reading Geneen Roth's "When Food is Love" little bit by little bit. This morning I was reading about how compulsive eaters (in control or not) often have this feeling that we don't deserve ....whatever, fill in the blank. The larger cookie, to go on vacation where we want to, to have the things all humans need and deserve. We have soaked in the feeling that to be good enough we have to heroically give everything we can. Then we just might cut it. That's my take on it anyhow. And of course we all know in a head way; no one else can ever fill that "good enough" pit of despair. It is for us to fill ourselves. My heart and soul is still trying to catch up with my head.

Sitting with this little bit this morning I remembered a lecture by my 4th grade teacher. She was frustrated with the class, and giving one of those lectures I hear myself give some times, not totally well thought out but clearly from a place of true emotion. I vividly remember her talking about how we all thought that we had to look out for number one. I had no idea what she was talking about. What did that mean? As I tried to fit what she was saying into some semblance of meaning it dawned on me. Other kids thought about their own needs and wishes and desires FIRST. They didn't think about what would be the best for the popular girls or the powerful boys or the overwhelmed teacher. They thought about what they wanted.

I was shocked. I remember feeling dizzy. How could this be? It was not at all a part of how I operated.

And so it makes sense that the one way I could sometimes feed myself, and take care of myself was to literally feed myself. To fill myself up. To secretly give to me.

It helps to know. Helps to get past just the blame and compulsion and obsession and the pounds and points and sizes.

Then I went to Geneen's blog and read this post about her cat's death.

Oh dear. I miss my sweet old Emmadog. What a love. But the love is still here. There is so much good in this world. And a good dog with big love leaves a big hole. It's worth it. But it's so hard just now.

Then, I have learned, anything worth doing is sometimes hard to do.