Crumbs in My Cleavage

They are familiar, like a script, a habit that’s hard to break and you are so comfortable with them that they seem like they are part of you.  Tomorrow is the first day of school for all four of the kids.  One is a senior, one a freshman, one starting kindergarten and the baby is going to preschool.  A new year for them, a new thought process for me.

Part of my addiction is learning to deal with the binge.  My favorite binge time is was right after I drop of the younger two at school and I know that no one is home.  One of the benefits of living in Las Vegas is twenty-four hour food.  Any kind, any where, any time.  Easy.

So, I will be coming straight home with no stops.  I’ve even decided against stopping for coffee for fear of the pastry.  The temptation and the consequences are too great.

CANCELLED!

Low carb doesn’t work when you have the stomach flu.  Chicken, cheese and pork rinds don’t cut it.

I’m sure I’m just dehydrated and a tad delirious.

Three days was the morning.
My focus three days old.
My head, it landed to the sounds of cricket bows…
I am proud man anyway…
Covered now by three days…

If you’re familiar with Jane’s Addiction then you recognize those lyrics.  That’s how I feel… “covered now by three days”.   Three days of eating right, staring at the demon binger and doing what I can to stay focused.   It’s almost as if three days is my cut off.  I start to feel better, lighter and more alert and it freaks me out.  It’s unknown to me.  I haven’t been truly joyous or comfortable or at peace for so long that it’s scary.  I know that some of this is physical.  It’s a physical reaction to the cleansing that takes place when we eat what our body needs and not what our minds make us think we need.

Now, to make it to day four…

I planned my failure all day long.  I knew I would be working tonight so I could sneak out and eat and no one would be the wiser.  Where to go… McDonalds? Jack in the Box? Sonic? Wendy’s?  You name it and it’s blocks from my house. 

So I take off settling on a Southern (no it’s not) Chicken Sandwich and a Vanilla Cone from McDonalds.  I thought I would skip the fries and soda.  As I’m cruising down the road I’m doing the brain dance - do I? don’t I? do I? don’t I? 

I picked DON’T.  I am so relieved.  I did it.  One small triumph in attempting to overcome my addiction and binging behavior. 

While working tonight I began to let my mind wander.  Sugar is to me like Southern Comfort was to my husband.  That is his drug.  I say ‘is’ because it’s a life long commitment to abstain.  No matter how many years pass that he is sober(five and a half years now), he can never drink.  One drop could change, or lead to the end, of his life. 

Problem with food is that you can’t live without it and the trick is to only pick what you know you can have.  Food that won’t trigger the negative behavior.  One tiny bit of bad and I’m doomed for a few days.  I can’t turn off the desire, or thirst, for it.  It consumes my thoughts.  Where can I go? Will anyone see me? When can I get away and sneak around? 

I am sick.

Looks like I’ve been tagged by thevirtualvoyer. Unlike her posts, mine are all about me so this shouldn’t be as hard as it feels, right?  I’m trying to come up with seven random tidbits that aren’t awful, depressing blotches on my life.

1. I did the horizontal mombo on the highway bridge wall that leads into Caldwell, Idaho in the fall of 1986. It crosses over some lake (I can’t remember the name, maybe Lowell?).  No, we weren’t in the car we were on the wall.  Well, I was. hehe

2. I totally love the Alien trilogy of movies (Resurrection sucked) and I know all of the words.  I also know all of the words to all four Lethal Weapon movies.   Acutally, the second one wasn’t my favorite so it can be hard to think of those on spot.

3. I can oil paint, play the piano and make glass beads.  Not all at the same time.

4. My first car was a 1976 Volkswagon Rabbit.  It was bright lemon yellow and it was really fun.

5. Boulder, Colorado is where I want to move once the older two graduate from high school.  My husband doesn’t know it yet and might find it hard to swallow since neither of us have never been.  I just feel ‘called’ to go be there.

6. I almost ran off at 17 to marry my boyfriend who had enlisted and was sent to North Carolina.  Whew, glad I wised up.

7. I’ve written a book.  Not a novel, just short stories about my childhood and teenage memories and a few poems.  I finished it 22 years ago and I’m afraid that it’s locked in a storage unit in Idaho.  I hoped to give it to my teens at Christmas time so I’m planning a trip up there for this fall.  I just hope it’s not lost.

So, seven more to tag… come on out and play!!

Ashley

Kathi

Cake

Gretchen

Pastoral Princess

Webmom

Peaches

Dear Husband,

I am so sorry for all of the awful things I said to myself about you and your alcoholism.

I understand that you probably think awful things about me now.

I regret not holding you more.

I wish I had.

I am sorry that I didn’t realize how hard it is to resist something that you thought made you feel good. 

I understand the desire and the craving and how your mind tempts you with false hopes.

I regret starting this cyle and allowing myself to be consumed.

I wish I hadn’t.

I am sorry that I’ve allowed my own addiction to spoil our relationship. 

I understand that I’ve built a wall and that I’m the only one that can take it down.

I regret not thinking that saying “I love you” everyday mattered.

I wish that it were easier to say.

I am sorry that I have put my addiction before you, the kids and myself. 

I understand that seeking help for my weakness isn’t selfish and will make us stronger as a family.

I regret treating everyone like shit.

I wish I could take it back.

I am sorry if you feel as though I isolated us from you while you came to terms with your addiction.

I understand what it feels like to be alone.

I regret not helping you more.

I wish you could help me now.

I hope you know how proud I am of you and I wish to someday hear you say that you are proud of me too.

Love,

Wife

Today is a visit with the dentist for the teens.  I’m sure they will check out just fine, no problems, nothing wrong and will get a clean bill of dental health.  I, on the other hand, have been delaying and delaying going to my own dentist.  Mine is much older and a lot less trendy than the kids’ dentist.  I’m more comfortable there.  Thing is, I dread going. 

My teeth, just as my life, have always looked perfect.  They are straight and appear well taken care of.  What you don’t see are the swollen gums, molars with cavities and a broken crown.  Until now.  I see a ‘blemish’ near the gum line on a tooth in the front.  HORROR! Now, in order to keep up with the look of a perfect mouth, I have to go to the dentist and actually achieve a perfect mouth.  The bleeding, sensitive gums never bothered me when others couldn’t see them.  Now, with the blemish, my secret is about to come out.

Interesting how I treat my teeth is how I’ve treated my life.  My fat is the blemish and now that I know other people can see it, I must do something.   I been living in a cocoon convincing myself that I didn’t look bad.  

I know that I can’t blame everything on my weight, but I do know that it plays a major roll in where I’ve ended up. 

I am now shy.

I hate going out.

I will not participate in school activites.

I will not go anywhere recreational with my husband.

I won’t embarrass my family.  Period.

So now I’ll make that dentist appointment and while I’m at it, I’ll search for an Overeaters Anonymous group.  Maybe I won’t be the fatest one, or the only one that binges, or the only one whose kids hate that their mom is fat.  Maybe.