Blog 24th of October. We didn’t plan what to do when we returned. There was nothing waiting for us. I should have thought.

Blog 24th of October 2014 I’m typing this on the mega bus to London. It’s been an interesting week. A week on annual leave. I’ve always found holidays difficult especially when trying to stick to a food plan, there’s something inside me that thinks holidays! Yeah! Reward yeah! Do what you like, please yourself, eat your body weight in crispy cremes, go for meals, rules do not apply. Of course I can’t do that now, I signed the contract, not to follow that would make it a bit of a sham and a mockery and who would I be trying to spite? Just myself as per usual, self-sabotage. I’ve done it all this week, all the negative thinking, the bargaining, the, it’s only a rice cracker, I’m eating it standing up so it doesn’t count. Well I’m not eating my binge foods cake, biscuits, sweets and chocolate. I’ve noticed the justifications, the ohh my God this is it for ever projection. Why am I still running? People have complimented me this week, well-meaning good people, people I love, people I trust then why do I want to punch them for doing it? Is it because I think that they didn’t like me before? That I wasn’t good enough, too fat, too big, too heavy? These are all the things that my recovery needs me to look at, and look at it I have to do or I will end up with my hand in the cookie jar. This week I have been in active addiction, whether I like it or not, I broke the contract and made up my own rules. I always find it easier to be organized when I’m at work, I have a routine I have structure, therefore I have identified a trigger. Holidays and the feelings and emotions they carry for me. I’ve often become really ill on or following holidays, it’s like my brain and body keep going, keep running then bang, I crash. It happens time and time again. Most people wind down on holidays, for me they both excite and scare me. Another identification that hit me this week when having a one to one and exploring the first chapter of my life story was to examine the two feelings that leapt out at me in chapter one and they are loneliness and fear. A year ago if you had asked me if I was ever lonely, I would have laughed in your face or become quite angry. How could I be lonely? I always made sure that I was surrounded by others? I’ve got four children, I work with people. I’m never on my own. And why am I never on my own? Because I fear it, because I can’t cope with it. I used to think I loved it but now looking back it was an opportunity for me to act out, I did the bulk of binging on my own, I used cannabis on my own, I indulged in harmful behaviour on my own because I couldn’t sit with myself and my own feelings. I push them down, I eat them away. I distract myself from them by losing myself in something else, anything not to let them in. I used to say I threw all my memories in a box in my brain and locked it, that’s how I dealt with my Jekyll and Hyde behaviour’s almost justifying them because that person wasn’t really me. I developed an alter ego when I was drinking, I would even say “I’m going over to the dark side”. There was a point in the evening when my eyes would glaze and my friends would know they had lost me. Perhaps that’s when I entered blackout. I was asked to do an exercise and that was to sit on my own in a room with no distractions and just sit with my feelings. The thought of this did not particularly thrill me to be honest. I was to try this for 10 minutes every day. I tried it, I sat there and it was horrible, I was eight again on my own in the house, scared, waiting, back and forth to the cupboards to look for sweet things when the adverts came on, thinking of food watching TV, back and forth, back and forth. Lonely, bored, angry, upset. The feelings came flooding back. Memories and feelings that I had not allowed myself to feel for a long time. There were lot of distractions there too, my whimsies, my teddy, drawing, reading, coping mechanisms. I did what was suggested I tried to comfort the child within. I put my arm around her, told her it would be all right, put my hand in hers, suggested nice things to do, healthy things to do and I told her that I loved her and I would look after her now. After this I felt as I always do when I go back there, either by memory or talking disassociated. It’s a feeling that I’m looking at life from behind a screen or a TV set. One of the first times I noticed it happening was after I found my inner child in the Living Room; I was confronted by someone I love in the family group and I went straight in to the inner child. I wanted to run to scream to hit out and it scared the hell out of me. I disassociated after that episode and it took a week to finally feel that I fitted back together again. It’s my defence mechanism, my default setting, and when I look at it I’ve done it for years, another unhealthy coping mechanism. I’m not always aware that it’s happening either, I’m finding out and discovering it. The aim is not to do it, to be able to comfort that child myself so I don’t have to go to that place where you can’t or don’t feel. Following the sitting alone with my feelings session 10 minutes that felt like an hour. I decided to do something creative to get my feelings down on paper, so I made a collage. Trying to create something out of this process is important to me, as I will be able to look back and chart my growth. I also wrote two letters this week saying goodbye to drugs and alcohol. I enclose them in this blog as I want to share them with you. Saturday night. I want to record exactly what happened so I can get an angle on it. It happened so quickly so naturally I wasn’t even aware that it was happening. As reported above I had played with my eating plan this week, I was on holidays, all the excuses, it wasn’t always practical, difficult to plan, wanted a lie-in, eating out, not letting other people down, couldn’t be bothered, feeling angry (sitting on the pity pot) why couldn’t I just be normal around food. I think that I was setting the seeds. In London I did pretty well considering, I followed the eating plan until the afternoon, missing out my snack (time constraints) or so I justified, I then went for a meal before the show and faltered ordering a starter and main course in a Thai restaurant. It was delicious, and I did all the bargaining and justification going. I’m on holidays, I deserve a treat, and it’s only a small starter (I didn’t have my snack this afternoon) I enjoyed it, but again after it came, the vague sense of uneasiness - for the second time this week I wanted to self-induce vomiting, the urge was strong, to get this food out of me. The first time it happened was earlier in the week when I had played with my food plan again and gone to Miller and Carter for lunch (making this my evening meal) swapping the two, in active addiction, defying my food plan. I shared these feelings with my partner, I also shared how now I felt fat ugly rubbish and uncomfortable as I had eaten too much. I didn’t vomit; the urge lasted for a few minutes. I did feel guilty and shamed and pissed off. The concert was fab, the next day the food saga began again, breakfast at the hotel, again couldn’t control it, and diverted from eating plan again, not by much but it’s enough. I ate an extra piece of toast and some cheese and ham. Then no snack in the morning, before getting on the coach we stopped in a shopping centre, I went off to get some perfume for my daughter who was 21 that day and my partner had a coffee in Costa whilst he waited for me. I waited to save the table as he got his coffee and as he walked back I was mighty miffed to see a caramel shortbread on his plate, at least he had the grace to look a bit sheepish, “I’m sorry” he said, “That’ OK” I replied, although it can’t have been really, can it? I want it to be; it’s not my responsibility what other people do, who am I to say you can’t eat a caramel slice. I suppose it reminds me of what I can’t do and why. I was back on track in the afternoon, I bought a salad to eat on the coach and a nakd bar and managed that well. On the coach I had an idea, it came to me, order a Pizza on line when I get back and slob in front of the sofa watching crap TV. My daughter was having friends over as it was her 21’st; they would be using the kitchen, how lovely, what a treat, what a cwtchy evening. I was made up and excited. We got back, I sat down, read a little, turned on the TV and then ordered on-line. And I ordered enough for a family of 4. It was actually called feed 4 for 5 pound each. It comprised 2 large pizzas, wedges and garlic bread, I also ordered 6 dips. It came, I was delighted. My daughter picked it up from the door and piled it on the table, she asked if she could have some, I was mortified, pissed off and annoyed. This was mine, I ordered it (even though I could have fed the street). My look said it all, she said “For God’s sake!” and walked out. I opened the box, the first one was a large bacon and cheese, I was just about to stuff it in to my mouth when my partner intervened (for the first time in this entire ordering process) “Should you be eating that in here?” I was furious; I could feel the rage, the helplessness, the being caught out. It dawned on me, for the first time, I was in active addiction and though the entire process I had not acknowledged it once. I was in free-fall, automatic pilot, as Wyn says, I had by passed the” intellect” and the “conscience” and gone straight across to the “will” (action). It was frightening I was really not even aware that I had done it until those words fell from my partner’s mouth. And then I felt rage towards him, why hadn’t he stopped me? Why did he have to say that then? Why was he interfering? Why was he taking control at such a late stage? Why was he so cruel? I blamed him, I made it about him, I see myself and him joined together, he took my responsibility and made it his but he did it way, way too late in the process. Straight in to inner child, panic, hands to face, feelings and emotions out of control, what to do? I’ve bought it, I have to eat it, and there was nowhere to go. My partner insisted we turned the TV off, again I was angry and upset, spoilt my plans of having a “nice” evening. My head was spinning by this point, I felt totally overwhelmed. Point of no return, so I ate. I ate 4 pieces of pizza, some wedges and 1 slice of garlic bread. I dipped everything in a sour cream and chive dip. Then my poor partner wanting to make it better began his own method of justifications, “We couldn’t have gone in the kitchen, the girls are in there drinking alcohol” “We didn’t plan what to do when we came back, there was nothing waiting for us” “I should have thought” Again, after the event the shame, the guilt, the wanting to go to the toilet and throw it up. The sense of failure, I’m useless, I’m fat, I’m a pig, I’m vile. I wanted to pull at my fat to torment and beat myself up. I wanted to punch my fat. I hated my body. I hated the fact I was so useless. The thoughts come in, bad thoughts, “I’ve done it now, fuck it, this eating plan is stupid, it’s too hard, I can’t do this, and recovery is taking everything I love from me. It calmed down a little and after I finished my partner tool the plates and the leftovers, of which there were loads, into the kitchen for my daughter and her friends. When he came back he asked me why I ordered so much. I had never thought about this before, but it’s so true and it always happens. I order far too much, I could never eat it all. I over-order in restaurants, I over-buy in super markets as I’m scared that there will not be enough to meet my needs. I am frightened that I will not be satisfied, that someone will have more than me. Sharing a plate is torture, I am constantly aware and watching what the other person is eating. Panic rising, what if there’s not enough, what if I’m still not satisfied, then the anger if they take too much, there won’t be enough for me. I used to do it with alcohol too and woe betides anyone if I ever ran out of drugs. I could sometimes have 2 ounces in the house at one time as I had over- ordered due to the fear. If there are two people I will order double. I needed to get this down on paper whist it was fresh. I needed to look at it to explore it to understand it. I lapsed so quickly, so easily, it scared me. I woke this morning feeling wretched, angry, defiant, blaming and avoiding. I avoided going downstairs as I knew the kitchen would be full of remnants from last night’s party. Dregs and smells of alcohol and fags. I knew by avoiding I was in active addiction. I was angry at myself; I felt like a child, I felt I had let everyone down and most of all myself. I felt very sorry for my predicament. Then I began to blame my partner and felt hostile and angry towards him. I went downstairs and I shared my feelings with him, then I burst in to tears. I was angry because we had not planned; angry for the late intervention; angry for being angry with him. We went upstairs and lay on the bed, the cat came to lie beside me, “See I said, she loves me whatever size I am” My poor partner sighed and said “So do I” I don’t believe that, and that’s what I need to work on - loving all the bits of me - good and bad. The Not the food - that’s just a symptom. I needed to share this with you, and to be as honest as I could about it. I’m going to a meeting later. I have a plan for today. I intend to stick to it. Julie Goodbye to Alcohol October 23, 2014 Alcohol Dear Alcohol It’s taken me a long time to be able to write this letter, one year one month and one day of recovery to be precise. I was ready to stop back then, now I am finally ready to let you go. We had some good times, some fantastic, amazing times. It was at those times that I thought I could only truly be myself with you inside me. In the beginning our relationship was fractious and exciting and it remained that way throughout. You made me confident, I could speak my mind. I could be brutally honest. You took me higher than any mood, any drug, you made my ego spiral, I was on top of my own pedestal. With you by my side I could sing like Adele, dance like Madonna and look like Catherine Zeta Jones. I was the most extraordinary beauty, and you were lucky to be seen with me. With you I cared about nothing, I was generous to a fault, with no responsibilities. I could do what I wanted with who I wanted when I wanted. With you I knew no fear, together we would fight the world, take them on. Fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em. At the end of the night I was happy to be alone with you, you me the music and a mirror. I loved us both so much. When we were good we were amazing, you made me feel sexy, desirable and desired. We were a wild outrageous partnership, dramatic, theatrical, rock and roll, cool, unpredictable, playful and never ever boring. I loved you; I loved the euphoric highs you gave me, the craziness, the tales of debauchery, the madness and the badness. I never learnt through the mistakes we made together, I kept returning to you time and time again. I couldn’t imagine my life without you. I had tried being apart from you once but I just couldn’t, my life had been angry, cold boring and empty. In the cold light of day, after the binge, I was wrecked. My life was narrow, in my wake a trail of chaos and destruction. Hurt people wherever I looked. Memory loss, hangovers that lasted for days, black eyes, hospital beds, police cells, family and friends driven to distraction. We were playing Russian roulette but I was the lucky one - by calling it off I dodged that last bullet. You gave me secrets, lies, layers upon layers of lies; misery, humiliation, loss of dignity total loss of inhibitions. I ended up scrabbling in the dirt, knickers round my ankles. I was a bully; I was harsh, pathetic, needy, desperate, sly, silly, unreliable, hedonistic, irritating, horrible, nasty, and capable of anything, immoral, crude, lewd, vicious, boring and hopeless. And through all that I still clung to you, totally under your spell. Knocking you back, drinking you down without a second thought. Then there came that dark time when I was incapacitated by you, when you would have taken everything if I didn’t lie down and surrender to you. You had beaten me. I changed into a monster the minute I was with you, a menace to society, we created a monster together. So farewell: my husband, my lover, my friend, my once-loyal companion. No longer do I remembering through the rose tints. I remember it as it was, a bloody nightmare I was a bloody nightmare Julie x