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Addictions/Recovery

Why Am I So Hungry? Mary Rexford, Ph.D.
 
On some days, I am simply "insatiable". I eat a meal, have second helpings. I snack. I cannot still be hungry, and yet I want more. Stuffing myself with food at such times, when I am already full, takes me into the horror of feeling out of control. I used to be afraid of growing fat. Now, I simply want my clothes to fit. I don't want to overtax my digestive system. Most of all, I simply want to be able to enjoy food and stop eating when I've had enough. And so I ask myself, What is going on? Why am I so hungry?
 
I have thought about these questions long and hard. I have pondered my own struggles, which began in adolescence, and those of many people I sat with during my years as a practicing psychologist. These are some of my thoughts on the subject. These reflections are offered in the spirit of sharing, personal and professional, and are meant to help you find new ways to care for and truly nourish yourself, to help you find what you need more than food in those insatiable times.
 
I have come to view my obsession with food on those days as a symptom. It is telling me that my spirit is not getting what it needs. My hungry self has turned to food as a substitute for that which is missing. One thing that has been missing for me, particularly during the years in which my suffering was the most intense, was love. I am not talking about the love of a partner, a parent, or close friend; but rather the love that comes from within, an unconditional love that can only come from myself. A love that offers me compassion and forgiveness, faith and trust in my own goodness and ultimate possibilities. Only in the presence of such love can I experience true permission to be as I am, where I am, in the struggles I have, without trashing myself or feeling "wrong".
 
When I find myself eating or wanting to eat even though I'm full, it frightens me. I'm afraid that once again I'll go to bed stuffed and wake up feeling fat and ashamed. So I attempt to get the upper hand over my hungry self. I slip into harsh, critical messages, like those I heard in the past - from my parents, my first husband, or worst of all, from myself. "What is the matter with you?" "Get control of yourself!" If I yell at myself for being so hungry and so screwed up, my fear will grow. This is the stuff binges are made of.
 
As I have become more able to notice those messages and more aware of their damaging impact, I have been increasingly committed to developing and practicing new ways of responding. I want to heal from the mistakes of the past. I want to free myself from domination by a shaming, blaming voice, and to practice offering comfort, holding and love when my child inside, my spirit, is in pain. ONE OF THE WAYS SHE MOST CLEARLY SHOWS ME HER PAIN IS WITH INSATIABLE HUNGER. It's a flashing red light. A part of me is hurting.
 
We all need a voice of reassurance, that holds and comforts us in hard times, a kind of holding we had too little of when we were little and needed it most. A kind of holding we need to learn to give ourselves in adult life. No one can be the mother or father I didn't have. No one is always with me, to see and understand that deepest, most hurt and frightened part of me, comfort her and ask for nothing in return. Life will sometimes leave me feeling empty and alone. I may be too busy to notice that anything is wrong, and then comes a powerful surge of hunger, out of nowhere, signaling my distress.
 
When I'm feeling afraid and saying mean things to myself, what I really need is a loving place within where I can hold myself, where I can say, "There, there, it's OK." MY FRIGHTENED SELF NEEDS THAT KIND OF COMFORT, SOOTHING, AND ACCEPTANCE OF HER DISTRESS. THAT IS WHAT LOVING MYSELF LOOKS AND SOUNDS LIKE.
 
This may all seem obvious to you, even trite. You may be impatient for something more meaty. You may feel like you've heard it all before. When we're in pain, we become frustrated by feedback that doesn't seem complete enough. We want answers. I would encourage you to acknowledge your impatience without letting it stop you from thinking about these ideas.
 
Look at your automatic ways of responding to your own insatiability. Think about how your spirit might signal your distress. Maybe insatiability is not the only way your being tries to get your attention, to let you know something's up, that you're having a hard time. Maybe your flashing red light is when you find yourself unwilling to eat real food, wanting mostly sweets. Or mostly caffeine. Or not wanting to eat at all.
 
Think about what might be missing for you, what void you may be using food to fill. Look at how you tend to respond to yourself in those times of need. Listen. It's amazing how harsh the loathing that goes on inside our heads can be, and how we have become so accustomed to it that we don't even notice. These are times of real need. Consider what you might do for yourself. Find small comforts. A cup of tea while you write in your journal, a bath or a walk. Take time to interrupt the frenzy of your day and the harshness of your inner chatter to quietly be with yourself, to practice the spirit of loving compassion. Even if it flies in the face of your old beliefs.
 
Chew on this, breathe with it, stretch with it, sit with it, and let whatever happens out of that be enough for now. Try letting go of the hope for something that will immediately make sense to you, completely satisfy you, make everything fall into place. It is small pieces, one at a time, over time, that afford us the kind of self- awareness that leads to new behaviors, in the realm of issues with food, or anything else.
 
The challenge is to relax, accept. To choose to say, this is my struggle. I might as well embrace it. Allow it. Rejecting, hating, fighting it, will get me nowhere. Here I am, in the middle of it, exactly where I need to be. Sometimes I am so unsure. Clarity is hidden, as if by fog and clouds.
 
YET OCCASIONALLY THE FOG LIFTS. THE CLOUDS CLEAR, AND I GET A GLIMPSE OF SOMETHING THAT IS TRUE. I FEEL A MOMENT OF DEEP UNDERSTANDING WITHIN MYSELF, AND SEE THE PROSPECT OF BEING ABLE TO EAT WHEN I AM HUNGRY AND THEN MOVE ON TO OTHER PURSUITS. I CAN BEGIN TO TASTE THE DELICIOUS FREEDOM OF SAYING, "I'M NOT GOING TO EAT THIS. I'VE HAD ENOUGH."
 
 
Excerpted from a work in progress (c) 1999 Mary Rexford. All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of the author. Mary Rexford is a psychologist turned writer.

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