Gratitude List

1. Blessings
   
   
2. Soliders who gave their lives for me
   
   
3. Soliders who risk their lives for me
   
   
   
   

Happy Memorial Day!!!

Thank you, Heroes

Gratitude List

1. My health
   
   
2. My life
   
   
3. My family
   
   
   

Gratitude List

1. SPF
   


2. Pink sharpies
   


3. Nadri
   
   
   

Resentments

**Dear God, I have a resentment towards a person that I want to be free of. So, I am asking you to give this person everything I want for myself. Help me to feel compassionate understanding and love for this person. I pray that they will receive everything they need. Thank you God for your help and strength with this resentment. (BB, Freedom from Bondage: 552)
These instructions are for the above prayer (Big Book, Freedom from Bondage, p. 552): 'If you have a resentment you want to be free of, if you will pray for the person or the thing that you resent, you will be free. If you will ask in prayer for everything you want for yourself to be given to them, you will be free...Even when you don't really want it for them, and your prayers are only words and you don't mean it, go ahead and do it anyway. Do it every day for two weeks and you will find you have come to mean it and to want it for them, and you will realize that where you used to feel bitterness and resentment and hatred, you now feel compassionate understanding and love.'

Resentment is the number one offender. Harboring a resentment is like drinking poison & expecting the other person to die from it. Not gonna happen. One of my hot button character defects is having expectations. Geez, I am working on that one but still fall into the old way of thinking & expectations tend to be my thing. Expectations lead to resentments.

Resentments stem from anywhere. For instance, the one that still crops up from childhood when I was 5-6 & that mean, spiteful brat (evil little bitch) broke into our apartment in the Bronx to steal some of my dolls & their clothing; than had the nerve to lean out the window a few floors above(no, I didn't want her to tumble out as a child... or even now) to shout,”Look, Look, I have your clues” (*eye roll* brat attended Catholic school & didn't know they were clothes not clues... *tisk tisk* hello, fool, clues are what can be found on Scooby Doo or in a Nancy Drew novel. Geez.

*Sigh* Yes, resentments are a way of life but it is not fundamentally the preeminent way for me to live my life.

Holding resentments gnaws away @ my insides – infecting my spirit, undermining my thoughts, corrupting my feelings, infiltrating my very soul as it floods every fiber of my essence with carcinogens.

Fostering resentments also affects my social life making it arduous to construct healthy relationships. My emotions were stunted from the atrocities of my childhood & my execrable adolescence.

Focusing on my spiritual existence allows me to scrutinize myself & gives me the opportunity of getting to know myself better. Concentrating on my spiritual presence does not mean, I am genuflecting @ church, it means I am embracing a mystical, ambrosial, transcendental, omniscient essence.
I may engage in meditation, listen to soothing music, do some yoga to reach within to ponder on those debilitating resentments that strangle the heck out of me.

I have to catch my resentments & let them go w/o lashing out @ others. I have to learn to forgive not so much to give individuals who may have hurt me – real or imagined – “a free pass” but for me to grow & allow the sunlight of the spirit to nourish me!

I discovered this amazing piece on resentments & absolutely love it:

“The moment you start to resent a person, you become his slave. He controls your dreams, absorbs your digestion, robs you of your peace of mind and goodwill, and takes away the pleasure of your work. He ruins your religion and nullifies your prayers. You cannot take a vacation without his going along. He destroys your freedom of mind and hounds you wherever you go. There is no way to escape the person you resent. He is with you when you are awake. He invades your privacy when you sleep. He is close beside you when you drive your car and when you are on the job. You can never have efficiency or happiness. He influences even the tone of your voice. He requires you to take medicine for indigestion, headaches, and loss of energy. He even steals you last moment of consciousness before you go to sleep. So—if you want to be a slave—harbor your resentments!”

Happy Birthday, Aunt Sharon

Gratitude List

1. Starting a new book
   


2. Relaxing in the sun slathered in SPF
   


3. Swimming pools
   
   
   

H.A.L.T (Hungry. Anger. Lonely. Tired)

The quickest way for me to head back into relapse is falling into any of the emotional &/or physical states of the H.A.LT. Acronym.

I have decided to work a program of recovery, so that means I have to honor myself & not play the same manipulative games I have done in the past when I was working a program of abstinence.

I have made it a point not to go to the grocery store when I am under the H.A.L.T cloud. If I am hungry, I am just going to want to feed that part of me – just to quiet the uncomfortable hunger feelings The choices I make may not be in my best interest & my disease may be selecting the menu. I have to be extremely careful not to make impulsive food choices if I am ravenous. Grievously, this quick careless spontaneous act will definitely lead me down the path of destruction, despair & ultimately death. Hungry for me leads to compulsive eating/binging, purging from the feelings of self degradation, & starving to make up for screwing up! I'd succumb right there by giving in recklessly to the vicious, malicious, surreptitious elements of my perilous disease.

As for the anger, I am a steaming kettle that has toned it down from a RAGEAHOLIC. If I am ticked off, look out. The serpent lashes out leaving others recoiling from my mean-spirited tongue full of angry verses. Usually the anger has nothing to do with an individual so much as it has to do w/ me & the way my addled brain perceived it. I am fuming because someone didn't do what I said or what I wanted. I am also angry @ something legitimate but because I don't really know how to handle it, I am simmering. When I am in this cantankerous frame of mind, it is best I just write my feelings, exercise, cry, reach out to voice my frustrations. So, eating while angry is not beneficial. Chances are good, I may shove it all in because I am not tuned into my surroundings; therefore, I am not attuned to my body's authentic needs.

Lonely, I do reminisce & feel lonely @ times. I am also lonely because I tend to isolate. I push people away because I've always been hurt by people I have trusted, so I come equipped w/ my own teflon. Feeling lonely can set me up for the “woe is me” scenario where I need to feel comforted by ingesting things that used to comfort me until it became a double-edged sword & wants to behead me instead. I have to sit w/ my emotions & take action not to wallow in being lonely. I have to reach out to program friends & family who know what I am going through because we all experience this way.

Getting too tired sets me up to eat – period. I don't know how to just accept my body needs to rest because it always had to be on alert to protect me as a kid. I was always “on” listening for the door, a car pulling up, footsteps, keys, a window opening... just listening to see who will be entering my room to abuse me. My body was always awake to the point of exhaustion. Now, I am listening to my body, respecting it by giving in when I am tired. No longer do I have to keep going & going & going like the Energizer bunny. I am me & I am the only one who can take care of me & my precious body. I am respecting myself so if I am tired no amount of food is going to make me rest. What I must do is grab a book, a flawless candle & crawl into bed.

I need to remember H.A.LT. If any of my attitudes start to rear its twisted head.


Now... As for the other H.A.LT. Acronym : Horny, Angry, Lazy, Tragic...

I pass! Hahaha!!!

Literature As A Tool

Literature
We study and read OA-approved pamphlets; OA-approved books, such as Overeaters Anonymous, Second Edition, The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous and For Today; and we read Lifeline, our monthly magazine on recovery. We also study the book Alcoholics Anonymous, referred to as the “Big Book,” to understand and reinforce our program. Many OA members find that when read daily, the literature further reinforces how to live the Twelve Steps. Our OA literature and the AA “Big Book” are ever-available tools which provide insight into our problem of eating compulsively, strength to deal with it, and the very real hope that there is a solution for us.

I absolutely love Literature as a tool. The extraordinary awe-inspiring conference approved literature is such a blessing. It is such a source of strength & comfort to know that I am not alone. For so long, I always believed I was alone, defective, screwed up & such a failure but when I started reading the impressive, reflective, meditative literature my entire being was filled. The debris & dreck assaulting my spirit slowly shifted when I first read “my story” in all of the powerfully enriching literature. As I read more of our incredibly compelling literature, brilliant sunshine radiated on my spirit nourishing my soul.

The literature energizes & sustains my program of recovery. When I am unable to attend meetings, the literature is a meeting for me 24/7. What a miraculous gift to have access to program whenever I needed it. A blessing! I remember when I was in a bad head space & needed q meeting – I needed to be @ home where people understood me. I needed to be nestled in the caring, loving & understanding cocoon of my program family. Mi familia of health, sanity & serenity. I can just delve into the literature & know my truth.

My mind may want to “pick & choose”, my disease may claim “amnesia” but my story is written between all the phenomenal pages of the literature. I think it is such a mind-blowing experience to know I am NOT alone. What a cherished gift to know I am inside of those pages remarkable pages. Whenever I need a meeting, I've got one on the go! I carry a piece of literature everywhere I go.

Gratitude List

1. My fierce eye glasses
   


2. Rain
   


3. Cool breezes
   
   
   
   
   

Criticism

I am my own worse critic is a phrase I've always heard but now that I am dealing with my truth as I journey the recovery terrain, I wonder if I may have uttered this as a child & released it to the universe. Ha~ha!

I have a tendency to criticize myself & it is something that has been ingrained into the very core of me. Sadly, I can't think of a time when criticism wasn't swirling around me, sorta like crows circle a carcass on the side of the road – always nearby to pounce & often times blending into the scenery. The reason criticism was heaped upon me is a simple but painful fact: the adults in my environment weren't happy with their own lives so they lashed out @ everyone – adults & children were treated to the biting, spirit crushing sting of the caustic litany of not doing something “right”. The children were hurled inflammatory words, subjected to ridicule & often humiliated in front of other adults & children. Damaging words that leveled what smidgen of self-esteem we had. Words like “retarded”, “stupid”, “dummy”, “stupid f@#*”, “dumb ass” were as common as “hand me a beer” “good morning” or “good night” – rarely, was I called anything derogatory about my intelligence because it was apparent from an early age I was blessed with a thirst for knowledge. Still, when it came to anything that was “domestic” the barbs were flung in my direction – like a puck whizzing in the air @ an unprotected spectator @ an Islander game. I wasn't going to be a “housewife”, “maid” or “cook” so I didn't gravitate to those household chores. I had a brain so I certainly wasn't going to waste it by cleaning someone's toilets like my aunt – who was betrothed to an abusive pedophile & thought her worth was cleaning other people's houses. I wasn't going to be anyone's servant. As for cooking, it didn't appeal to me, I certainly wasn't going to get caught up in the mix of rushing home to put “dinner” on the table – stopping whatever I was doing to “slave over a hot stone” was not my calling. I knew this from a young age, I was not meant to use the gifts God bestowed upon me to just settle & dust. Nope, I was not the kind of girl that became all giddy over a can of Pledge or Easy Off, nor did I shriek w/ delight when the latest iron hit the market. Nah, not me. I just wasn't into that – I just wanted to read, write & wield my pen as a powerhouse w/ my own publishing corporation.

I was told I didn't know how to clean, dust, mop, make a bed, cook... My answer was, “Why? Not my thing.” or “ I'll have someone do it for me”. Thing is, I still don't make a bed “right” by my critical aunt's standards & that is OK because I make it just right (when I do) for my standards. I dust my bookshelves, TV, computer screens when the sunlight shines on the dust – hahaha. As for cooking, I know how to order take out & delivery is even better. I know how to make a mean pasta salad & pesto sauce, so I'm good. If it makes me happy, it's all that matters. I have to learn to put the criticism & all of its dysfunction away – it is about time. I am not out to become the next Paula Deen, Rachael Ray or Giada De laurentiis. Afterall, that is why they have their gifts to share w/ the world.

No longer do I have to drown in the toxic swamp of criticism. I have to stop criticizing others (smash those recordings) & myself.

Service

Gratitude List

1. My dignity
   
2. My grace
   
3. My forgiveness
   
   

Gratitude List

1. My legs
   


2. My compassion
   


3. My understanding
   
   

Geographic Cure

How many times in all of my food craziness did I believe that if I just removed myself from this friggin' town & all of its inhabitants, my life would be so much better. You know it would “perfect” – ha! I mean, all I had to do was just move to a different location & start anew.

Funny thing is, I'd still be there & that is where the problem starts – with me; although, I never saw it that way. I was too ensconced in the duplicitous clutches of my disease. I have to be honest, I was too consumed with stuffing my face, purging my food or restricting. I preferred the excess exercise than vomiting, I thought tossing my food was too disgusting & extremely unlady like. Afterall, it was those uneducated, unmotivated, unambitious townies NOT ME!

When we did move, things were still dreadful. Most of the residents were disagreeable. Thanks to the 12 Steps, I can honestly say, it wasn't the area or inhabitants (well not entirely), it was me & my abhorrent attitudes.

Sadly, I was spiritually sick w/ so much poison flowing through my veins, I wanted desperately to believe that moving to a new neighborhood instead of changing my conduct & perception was the answer. Ha! It doesn't matter where on this planet I move to – I am still going to be there & the problem resides w/i me!

Gratitude List

1. Hugs
   


2. Smiles
   


3. Laughter
   
   
   
   

Happy Birthday, Chris

Masking Problems

Overeating masked other problems in our lives (fears, anxieties, angers, disappointments, pressures, boredom) (p.5, par.4).



For me, overeating & all of the shenanigans surrounding it ~ the anorexia & the bulimia ~ were ways for me NOT to deal w/ all of the pandemonium encompassing my life. It was a way for me to numb the f@#% out. I had to endure the excruciating heartache, spirit extinguisher & soul eradicator of being sexually abused. I had to learn to shut up, not question why the adults didn't step in to take care of me -- a child. A little girl who took on the role of adult, people pleaser, parent & sexual object @ an extremely young age. I did not comprehend why my family didn't love me ~ why they could not love me.


I was immersed in the throes of my disease, trying to hide. I was running away from my environment, my family and the agonizing ache, humiliation & shame of the turmoil I was tossed in. I just wanted to make all of the paralyzing pain of having men say & do inappropriate & unacceptable things to me - a child. I shoved it in when no one held me w/o an agenda -- w/o copping a feel; I inhaled food when no one showed me they loved me & when I was told repeatedly:


"I wish you were never born"

"I wish you were dead"

"You were a mistake"

"You made my life a living hell"

"You should of died"

"You're a half breed"

"The "nigger" or "spic" word to describe my paternal heritage (since my Scotch Irish & German materal side was so much better)

"You're only good for sex"

"Who'd want you"

"You're nothing"

"You'll never amount to shit"

"You're dumb, stupid, lazy, a slut, whore..."

"You're looks will only take you so far"


Ad infinitum...

I ate to nurture me, to fill the hole in my soul, to erase the fact that I was "different", "broken" & "damaged". I ate so as not to feel like an outcast despite the fact I was the family pariah. I ate to just not feel anything...

I just kept on eating so I didn't have to feel the emotional, physical or spiritual blows the adults & children hurled @ me. I was always told I was beautiful than told I was so beautiful I was ugly. Girls & women were thrilled when the pounds started packing on so they could show off their bodies. When I was starving myself -- they lashed out @ me to eat, when I was so immobilized w/ the bulimia it didn't matter because I had no energy for anything really. So went my vicious, heart-wrenching saga of being trapped in a net like a dolphin ~ struggling to get free or like a panther caught in chains chewing off her leg just to break free.

I just did not want to deal w/ all of the bedlam on the home front or the commotion circling those in my immediate dysfunctional orbit.

I couldn't deal w/ all the disappointments, betrayals & secrets. I eventually grew accustomed to all the disappointments, that it was moot point to want anything or hope for anything. I put on a plastered smile -- smiles that never reached my eyes -- as something "new & shiny" was handed my way. Whatever. If anyone knew me even the slightest, they would know to give me books.

As for the betrayals & secrets, I learned to keep Every. Single. Thing. To. Myself or else it spread as rapid as a California wildfire.


The treachery ripped me to shreds. The violation of trust shattered something deep in my core. It wounded me, it maimed me & left a blaring message, TRUST NO ONE!!!


I just relinquished myself to food & the comfort it provided until it didn't work anymore & the disease turned on me -- like "reality" bff's!

Will Power

3) Re-read Step One. Discuss and reflect upon the following ideas found in Step
One: a. Compulsive eating is an illness that cannot be controlled by will power (p.1., par.2).


I am so grateful to know that compulsive eating is an illness & not just me being defective, damaged or missing some gene to just stop the insane compulsion to eat & eat & eat.

I always believed there was something wrong w/ me for not being able to just stop shoving things in my face. Granted, being abused @ a young age in the kitchen did not help but the disease was there waiting for me to give in to it - to lose self respect for myself because a friggin' Devil Dog, rippled chip, candy corn, candy bar, &/or Swedish fish would just bring me to my knees. When I would have a bite of something it would just consume every single fiber of my being. It didn't even have to be a food I enjoyed -- it could be just one little "taste" of "this" or "that" that would send me spiraling out of control. I was turning & turning headed straight into the abyss quite the way an aircraft dumping fuel or a helicopter w/o propellers crashes through the azure or inky sky. I'd just whirl round & round until I crash.


So many times I tried to "control" my eating by just having "will power". It sucked hearing over & over that, "I'd just lose the weight if I exercised a sense of 'will power". Ironic, my drunken grandfather thought he had alcohol beat because he stopped. He wasn't recovered, he was just dry & exhibited all of the friggin' signs, attitudes & nastiness he always did - he was just w/o his drinking partner (my grandmother). When she died, he stopped. Well, I did have "will power" in many instances & for many things in my life, just not when it came to warm baked gooey sweets or a chip that I would just have one... three... a few... ALL of them & than some.Yeah, sure. It didn't even matter if it was stale or wet from the splashes from the pool. Nope, I had to have it or else... KAAABOOOMMM!!!

There was a lunatic raging inside of me that needed to be fed whatever just as long as it was stoked like a furnace. Once the madness began there was no stopping me & heaven forbid when there wasn't any "goods" around & just "diet" shit -- NOT good!


I'd load up on stuff @ the store -- As a kid, I walked to get whatever, steal it from friends or while babysitting or just grab a bunch of stuff for everyday, emergencies or just in case. I'd stock up when the ice cream trucks circled the neighborhood -- even grabbing my stash from several different ice cream trucks that made the rounds in my area & "pretend" it was for everyone when it was mostly for me. I even "grabbed it now" for the next day was a big joke.


It is a tremendous gift to see I have a disease ~ a dis ease. A disconnect w/ something that should be @ ease w/i my spirit -- etched in my soul. I no longer have to blame myself for being defective. I 'm never going to control it - just stop it in its tracks by placing it in my God box a day @ a time.


b. Another power, stronger than ourselves, had to be found if we were to stop eating compulsively (p.3, par.2).


I couldn't do it -- could not stop no matter how many times I tried, wished, cried or begged. I just could not do it. I would have moments where it would be, "OK" for a small "respite" only to come back full force @ times knocking me on my ass. There were times it would slither quietly back into my life, beckoning me to try this 'cause I got "it". I was lost. I just could not stay stopped. I prayed for God to make me thin -- no curves -- like a stick. I just wanted to have my cake & eat it to. I beat myself up because I just could not stop thinking about food -- it was with me 24/7 & many, many of my 24/7's. If only I could just cease this overwhelming mental dissent into madness. Trust me, if I could just stop, I'd be a mega trillionaire many times over because I would have the "cure".


I can't explain it, it is an absolute miracle to have God just take the degradation, compulsion & obsession from my hands. Today, I am proof that God is handling it for me. My HP -- GOD -- is doing for me what I am unable to do for myself & I am eternally grateful.

God's Boxes

I have in my hands two boxes
which God gave me to hold.
He said, "Put all your sorrows in the black box
and all your joys in the gold."

I heeded His words, and in the two boxes
both my joys and sorrows I stored.
But though the gold became heavier each day
the black was as light as before.

With curiosity I opened the black--
-I wanted to find out why.
And I saw in the base of the box, a hole
which my sorrows had fallen out by.

I showed the hole to God, and mused--
"I wonder where my sorrows could be."
He smiled a gentle smile and said,
"My child, they're all here with me."

I asked God why He gave me the boxes--
why the gold, and the black with the hole?
"My child, the gold is for you
to count your blessings;
the black is for you to let go."

-Author Unknown

Gratitude List

1. Inky skies
   
2. Warm breezes
   
3. My Yankee Drift Away Candle
   
   
   

Gratitude List

1. Birds chirping
   


2. Azure skies
   


3. Radiant sun beams
   
   
   

Self confidence

From Dictionary.com

self-con·fi·dence
   /ˌsɛlfˈkɒnfɪdəns, ˈsɛlf-/ Show Spelled[self-kon-fi-duhns, self-] Show IPA
–noun
1.
realistic confidence in one's own judgment, ability, power, etc.
2.
excessive or inflated confidence in one's own judgment, ability, etc.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Origin:
1630–40

—Related forms
self-con·fi·dent, adjective
self-con·fi·dent·ly, adverb


—Synonyms
1. assurance, self-possession, self-respect, poise. 2. conceit, self-esteem.



What the hell is self confidence? I am having such a tough time with this topic.

For days (upon days), I didn't know what to write. I mean, I was not about to send a blank email w/ " self confidence" in the subject line, although, I was extremely tempted to do just that.

Anyone dealing with the turmoil of addiction knows self confidence is just not part of their environment -- @ least not for me!

Sadly, nothing has changed in the self confidence department. No matter how much recovery time I have knitted together, my insides are still the same. I am not living in my disease but I am living with self-esteem issues. What is ironic, is I tend to be shy & that comes across that I am conceited. Ha! I tend to be a bit snobbish but that doesn't equate to self confidence. I am working on my self confidence a day @ a time. Standing up for myself and my beliefs and not backing down means I have self confidence some level. Tonight, I had the self confidence during a meeting to stand up for our traditions and knew I was up against one of those "stars" but I stood my grown. To further stand up for myself and exercise my self confidence muscle, I stepped down from a moderator position tonight. Shortly after, I was described as "strong arming" someone and then...

BAMM...

My anonymity was broken (again). I did not roar, retaliate or stoop to dirty tactics. I remained cool, calm & composed -- thank you to my angel in recovery -- for sharing your grace. I allowed God to show me that people w/ many years in the rooms are still spiritually sick -- they just have "years of filling seats".

My blossoming self confidence emerged right on time -- God's time.

Now, I am learning how to nurture my self confidence & it is going to be an interesting journey.

Gratitude List

1. Serenity
   


2. Fellowship
   


3. The Traditions