I had a plan, however, someone else had a better one.

Blog 11th January to 18th of January - I had a plan, however, someone else had a better one. Another week another recovery milestone. Saturday night a work mate who I am very fond of was having a leaving do, moving on to pastures new. I would normally avoid something like this like the plague. Dangerous territory for a recovering alcoholic. A bar in the centre of Cardiff Saturday night a regular haunt in my drinking days. Yet I wanted to go, as I liked the person immensely and I am grateful for the help and support she’s given me. I formed a cunning plan (well it was a plan but not particularly cunning) I would go, I was on call so that was yet another security measure, I would sit with the two members of staff who were pregnant and I would only stay for a few hours and leave when it started to get messy. If I had followed the last part of the plan I would have stayed for 5 minutes as even when I got there people were staggering about like bambi on ice and had a bell on every tooth. On the way there on the number 17 bus we past a local hotel and rather seedy drinking hole, I looked up and saw the sign illuminated in the bus window, it said “Wynford” Bloody hell I thought, he gets everywhere! It’s a sign. I arrived, let out a deep breath, and said a silent “God please help me to be myself” and asked the leaving girl what she wanted to drink. “A bottle of Prosecco” she said (bloody hell a girl after my old heart and old ways I thought) I have not presented myself at a bar or ordered an alcoholic drink since September 2014. It felt strange and I felt self-conscious for some reason. I ordered the bottle and a lemonade for myself, when the barman handed me the bottle and asked me how many glasses without thinking I said one, he gave me an odd look then poked a straw in the bottle, a novel touch! The rest of the night was good fun, I was nominated as the photographer, one of the girls had a selfie stick, endless hours of amusement were had with this and it was good for me as it gave me a purpose and I knew I was collecting memories that she could look back on in the future. It also did my self-esteem the power of good, I remembered people who are drunk feel that it is their God given right to tell you what they think of you and fortunately in my case it was all good. (Had I have stayed out later maybe that would have changed) I was grabbed, hugged, slobbered on, and at one stage my face was licked! I found out loads of spurious gossip about who fancied who and who had done what to whom on other night outs. Another observation was the music, it was so loud you could barely hear yourself think, I spoke to every one as though they were stone deaf and signed like the man from Vison on. It was amusing for a while and I felt at ease and in control. The one thing that surprised me was that the older people seemed to be drunker that the younger ones, especially the women (maybe they are out of practise or just don’t go out as much). At 10.30 I decided to call it a night, I gave my buddy a big hug (by this stage she was sobbing wildly) told her I was glad to see her being vulnerable which made her smile and added that she could always come back if she hated the new job, then into the night I went, but this time to the safety of my home and bed. I felt strangely satisfied, proud even; I had proved I could do it, it felt good. It felt even better in the morning no hangover and a clear recall Thinking back to what I enjoyed about drinking I think I enjoyed the irresponsibility of it all so that I got to that state where I just wanted my needs met instantly just like a child. My friends used to say that I behaved in a very childlike fashion throwing tantrums, sulking, saying exactly what I thought with no consideration for anyone else and finding ways to be obnoxiously rude. I found this hilarious, but in reality it was reckless, dangerous and fool hardy; a damaged child with an out of control ego. I used to say I loved drinking because I loved being out of control, I loved the feeling of hedonism and highness. Now I know that in this state I was unleashing the hurt inner child who was crying ‘notice me, tell me I’m wonderful’. I was a little girl in the body of a fully grown woman and a handful at that. Changes, I’m going through changes (in the words of Ozzy) Blog Tuesday the 13th of January Met Wyn today to come up with the next stage in my eating plan These are the changes I proposed: Stick to my abstinence chocolate cakes sweets biscuits and deserts Eat a piece of fruit at lunch time with my lunch or something green (salad) No takeaways Drop morning and evening snack. Flexibility sometimes eat main meal at lunch, if needed and eat lunch at teatime Only put one teaspoon of butter on toast or bread Work towards decreasing fat intake Recommit to plan It started with me saying these are the changes I am willing to make. Willing spat through gritted teeth. What followed was a bit of a wakeup call. Interesting meeting with Wyn, he told me that I didn’t seem very happy in my recovery from this eating disorder that I seemed to be struggling with it, obsessed by it and resentful towards it. All those things are true. In recovery from alcohol this is what is known as being ‘dry drunk’. These are people who have stopped drinking but are bitter and twisted about this fact and hanker after the old days of one more blow-out. They are non-accepting of the fact that they are powerless over alcohol and tend to be deeply unhappy people. Lately I have been spending my days angrily looking at sweet foods like a petulant child, sulking, kicking back and moaning that I will never be able to eat them again. I must be presenting in this way with food. I have a choice here I could just give it up and jump back on the good ship over eater, or just give up the fight surrender to it and leave it to God. I need to view certain foods in the same way as drugs and alcohol as “poison” and bad for me and realise that suggestions are given to me not to punish me or to criticise me but to help love and cherish my body that has been given to me and I should want to look after it in the best way I can. I say I don’t like myself then continue to put this crap in my body then wonder why my self-esteem is in bits - self-fulfilling prophesy really, and then I spend days beating myself up for doing it and listening to the voice of the over-critical parent booming at me. There seem to be rather a lot of barriers, negative thinking, lies and insanity around a lot of my thought processes which are all causing this internal conflict. When discussing this with Wyn he asked me to think back to my last binge and what was so glorious about it. It was even difficult to do that, as it wasn’t so much a binge, I sat there and stuffed so much that I was physically sick, it was more of a grazing binge, up and down, ramming handfuls of chocolate hidden in a secret hiding place then sitting back on the sofa (thinking that no one had noticed) until the next set of adverts came on and I repeated it and so on. I explained to Wyn that in OA people had spoken about having health warnings from GP and abnormal tests and now they had followed the programme they were back to normal, which never happened to me. In fact it has been the other way; I stopped over eating and developed IBS. I’ve always had the constitution of an ox and a degree of natural fitness whether I was 11 stone or 22 stone. I also spoke of OA food plans and how the thought of weighing and measuring for me was insanity as was weighing myself. I also know that if I did this I would take the yo-yo diet pathway and start restriction and exercising like I’m Usian Bolt on speed. l Frustration and anger at being on this plan for 3 coming up to four months and not being 5 stone less as would happen in the past, then beating myself up and hating myself because it’s not happening NOW! NOW! NOW! I am getting on my own nerves and feel guilty for Wyn having to listen to these justifications, negativity and hopeless statements. But listen he does with endless patience, encouragement and unconditional love. When he suggested that I go back to overeating I was horrified and recognised that that really was not an option We came to a solution, which was to work step 1. I have a homework exercise which I will share in my blog. I have to find at least 10 examples of my powerlessness regarding over eating and my eating disorder. I have to briefly state the following What happened? Where did it happen? Who was involved? Why did it happen? What were the consequences? Then explore the loss of control and how it affected myself and others. Oddly enough this evening I feel calmer and less pressured to be perfect. As Wyn says today I am exactly where I should be in my recovery. I do not want to go back, but I know I have to change my attitude in order to be free of food and compulsive food behaviour. Small changes to the eating plan, nothing major, nothing drastic and keeping it simple and working step 1. Julie