The acceptance part of Acceptance and Commitment Therapy

I've mentioned before that I'm applying Acceptance and Commitment Therapy ideas and practices to my binge eating and overeating problems. I think the Wikipedia article on ACT is fairly informative and it will help any readers out there make sense of what follows.

I recently finished Get Out of Your Mind and Into Your Life: the New Acceptance and Commitment Therapy by Steven C. Hayes and Spencer Smith. Reading this book has made me realize several things, and I believe the advice in the book can help me carry out the high-level instructions contained in Brain Over Binge.

In Brain Over Binge, Hansen describes how she started viewing her urges to binge as "neurological junk" emanating from her lower brain, and how that new perspective allowed her to stop acting on those urges. She explains that she stopped fighting the disturbing thoughts that encouraged her to binge and purge (she was bulimic): she stopped arguing with them and stopped engaging them altogether, instead treating them as not even worthy of her attention. She was no longer frightened of whatever her lower or "animal" brain threw her way because she understood her real self, her Highest Human Brain, to be way more powerful than the animal brain. She could listen to the lower brain chatter as if it were a tape recording and remain calm, and she understood herself to be safe from her urges because her Highest Self was in charge of motor control: no urge could MAKE her use her arms, hands, mouth, and throat to gather food, put that food into her mouth, chew it, and swallow it.

These were (and still are) really exciting concepts for me. For several weeks after reading Brain Over Binge, I enjoyed a very new, very profound sense of security. I am more powerful than my urges! Those seemingly scary urges can't MAKE me do anything! I had never thought or felt that way before.

But as time went on, things got a little messier. I had trouble distancing myself from my urges. I had eating episodes that made me feel unsafe: even if my Highest Human Brain was more powerful, even if "loss of control" was only perceived loss of control and thus an illusion, my lower animal brain was one hell of a contender. Hansen's point, however--and it's a perspective I encountered again in Buddhist meditation training as well as in ACT--is that the tug of war is supposed to stop. It's not supposed to be lower brain versus higher brain in a gruesome fight to the death. A lighter touch is called for here.

On one level, I understood it then and I understand it now. On another level, don't I want my Highest Human Brain to triumph? Don't I want the old addiction wiring to fade away, to leave me in peace? Sure I do.

And that's a big part of the problem. After reading the ACT book, I had to face up to the fact that I never truly ACCEPTED my binge thoughts/urges/cravings. I wanted to disassociate from them and ignore them as fast as possible, because I thought that would de-fang them: Lower brain junk, not worth my attention, moving on... In other words, I would quickly acknowledge "I'm having the thought I want to binge on x or y" but only as an attempt to control or manipulate my internal experience by creating distance between myself and the thought. I used meditation practices with the same intent. In truth, I remained frightened of my thoughts and urges, irritated by their repeated intrusions into my consciousness, and very anxious to eliminate them once and for all.

Honestly, I'm still scared of my cravings and urges. I haven't learned to accept them "fully and without defense". I'm not yet "willing to welcome them unconditionally", in the parlance of the ACT book. (Again, because I still find them threatening and ugly.) I don't really want to listen to what they have to say. Thus far, I've tried to silence my lower brain and its contents in two ways: give it what it's asking for immediately (i.e. binge) so it won't go on howling, or disassociate from it as quickly as I can.

ACT suggests I stop trying to silence it, period. And to be sure, ACT does talk about creating distance between ourselves and our thoughts--the book I just finished calls this process "defusion", because you stop fusing with your thoughts and start looking AT them rather than FROM them. But before you can defuse from the thoughts in your head, you must accept what's there. You must give up the problematic habit of experiential avoidance--of attempting to avoid unpleasant thoughts, sensations, urges, feelings, etc.

So I'm working on acceptance right now. I'm trying to maintain a stance of curiosity: What are my binge thoughts? What are the urges? How can I experience them as fully as possible? How can I get acquainted on all levels? I admit I don't know exactly how to do this, but the ACT book has exercises I can try as a starting point. I'm hoping I can get to a place where I accept that the thoughts and urges might be with me forever, or at least might pop up regularly for the rest of my life. This kind of acceptance is supposed to happen without a hidden agenda; you aren't supposed to "accept" troublesome thoughts or urges on the basis that doing so will make them fade away, for example.

It's REALLY hard to not have a hidden agenda such as this.

I guess, right now, I have to accept how confusing and complicated this all seems to be. I have to accept that a problem 30 years in the making will not vanish overnight.

postscript: To be clear, Hansen's book is not the reason for my struggle and I don't mean to misrepresent anything the author has said. I may have missed some of the nuances of her arguments or I may be having trouble following through with her advice for any number of reasons (differences in temperament, differences between binge eating disorder and bulimia, etc.). I see ACT and Brain Over Binge to be highly complementary: they talk about many of the same ideas and techniques, but ACT provides specific exercises/practices to try while Brain Over Binge illustrates how the underlying principles can help someone overcome an eating disorder. It is an informative memoir rather than a step-by-step manual.

I've been binging the last three days

And it's awful. It's not fun or pleasurable. It's highly distressing.

In terms of amounts, my binges are way smaller. The first two days, it was Easter candy and today it was angel food cake and whipped cream. But smaller amounts are little consolation. And frankly, I'm GLAD my standards are changing. I want them to. I'm glad I now find eating 6 servings of malted milk balls in a day to be alarming and depressing instead of no big deal. (The package contained a total of 7 servings, and it was hard for me to not finish the box just for the sake of finishing it.)

One of the frustrating things about blogging is that I say something one day, and truly mean it--such as when I declared the other day that "I no longer feel compelled to finish things just for the sake of finishing things"--and then days like today, I have to turn around and announce that I was wrong. Something will occur that shows me I haven't moved entirely past this issue or that behavioral tendency, and then I feel embarrassed about my earlier statements. I try to be conservative in my proclamations to avoid this very thing, but it still happens.

How did I fall into binging again? Well first, I felt urges to binge for three straight days. On the evening of the third day, I developed a killer headache. That was my breaking point. I was beyond frustrated that the urges did not abate for three days despite my efforts to ignore them, neutralize them, distract myself, calm myself through meditation...none of my regular techniques worked. I was already raw from that, and add a bad headache and a really monstrous period and I just didn't care anymore. I wanted relief from the urges to binge NOW and there was one surefire way to accomplish that: binge.

So, I now know what my current breaking point is. It used to be I couldn't withstand the urges for mere hours. Now I can tolerate up to three days of irritating urges before giving in, but I can't tolerate four days or five days. And I guess can't tolerate the urges coupled with severe physical pain. When I say "can't", I mean that my firsthand experience indicates I cannot YET do it; that my skills and strength aren't sufficient for that level of challenge.

The next time I face a real challenging stretch of days, I may do much better. Maybe I'll be better at disassociating from the urges, better at calming myself, or better at interrupting my behavioral patterns by then.

One might wonder why I felt urges to binge for three straight days in the first place. I think many of the things that have historically triggered my urges to binge simply happened simultaneously: hormones and a very atypical period, problems in two of my closest relationships, health worries, exhaustion from special errands I was doing for someone this week, rumination over career concerns, and more. It was an uncharacteristically bad week. Yet these triggers didn't make a binge inevitable. All these triggers would have amounted to nothing had I dealt with the urges they sparked in a more skillful way.

All this has reminded me of what Hansen says in Brain Over Binge--

1. Life is messy and it's impossible to control or avoid triggers, especially when you have lots of potential triggers. So the answer lies in dealing effectively with the urges you experience, not in directly managing/tackling triggers.

2. I binged to get rid of my urges to binge. The urge to binge IS the disorder itself.

3. By binging, I reinforced my brain's problematic wiring. Each day of binging was more extreme than the day before, and I felt increasingly out of touch with my Highest Human Brain/Highest Self as the binging went on.

I must become calm and non-reactive in the face of my urges. I'm trying to figure out how to do that consistently. It's led me to try meditation, work on Acceptance and Commitment Therapy exercises, and more. I marvel at how Hansen was able to just...stop. So quickly. She understood how her brain was tripping her up, decided to look at the urges she experienced through a different lens, and made rapid progress from there. If I play the comparison game too much, I start to get scared that I'm "doing it wrong" or that "this approach won't REALLY work for me." But rationally I know that just because something is difficult doesn't mean my approach is faulty. (Quite the opposite, usually!)

I admit I miss the honeymoon period I enjoyed when I first finished reading the book: things seemed very clear and easy to me for a few weeks. I still consider Brain Over Binge a fantastic resource and a trusty map forward! But more and more, I feel like the real work is just beginning for me.

Not-so-merry go round

I went to the grocery store nearest my house for the first time in awhile. I used to get most of my binge foods from there, but this store was never my choice for actual comprehensive grocery shopping because their stuff is overpriced.

The store was always good for picking up an item or two in a pinch, though. Yesterday I needed to pick up milk and tortillas quickly, so I went there. I also knew I wanted Cadbury mini eggs; I love them and enjoy a bag around this time every year. I entered and walked to the left, through the produce section, then looped around the perimeter of the store to get to the tortillas and the dairy aisle at the rear of the store.

Later, when I reflected on having walked to the left, I was surprised and pleased. I used to enter and head right immediately and unthinkingly. The ice cream aisle is the rightmost aisle in the store, so I would go there and check out if Ben and Jerry were dealing anything new before proceeding to the other sections of the store. I would do this whether I was on an official binge run or had come to pick up garlic and oranges.

After my grand entrance, the trip still had its little challenges. I did look at many of my old favorites and feelings of longing did crop up. I wanted to buy several things and not necessarily polish everything off in an hour of frenzied eating, but at least sample a bunch of different sweets. This is that new gray area I keep talking about--where binge eating tendencies blend into overeating tendencies and I'm unsure what to call certain things. Was that an urge to binge? Was it a craving to overeat?

Does it matter? Probably not. Neither one should be acted upon.

I considered many purchases: various types of Easter candy, Little Debbie Nutty bars, ice cream and popsicles. But nothing was compelling enough, besides those Cadbury mini eggs I had already planned to buy. And the thought kept occurring, as I looked at one thing after another, that I could always come back and get it later if I really wanted it. The limited edition ice cream will be there tomorrow. I could find all the same Easter candy next week. And they'll still be selling Nutty bars when I'm dead. Those aren't going anywhere. As I passed on each thing, I thought "Eh. Maybe later."

That's a new thought for me. I mean, I always "understood" the food wasn't going anywhere, but I'd tell myself that--and tell myself I could get it later--in the harsh tone of an exasperated adult talking to a bratty child. In this internal conversation, the adult was mean and impatient, and the child didn't really believe the adult. 9.9 times out of 10, I would end up buying the food.

Last night and earlier today I was patting myself on the back for my unattached attitude in the store. More mental and behavioral progress! Hooray! But then tonight--oh, you guessed it!--I felt the urge to go buy a box of Nutty bars and eat half the box before my husband gets home from work. A clear urge to binge. I believe I know what triggered this urge and I'm not acting upon it--in fact, I noted my unpleasant urge and then promptly sat down to write this post to pass the time until my husband arrives--but I felt dismayed at having experienced such an urge at all. And I felt scared, like this (fleeting!) craving was proof that a potential binge still lurks around every corner.

Yet reacting emotionally and labeling an urge as "bad" or "threatening", or labeling oneself as a failure for having various urges, is exactly the kind of thing that one must gently train themselves to stop doing.

Round and round and round it goes.

Clothing, priorities, ACT, and identifying the animal brain

I did some shopping yesterday for bras and walking shoes. I also bought a couple of tops. It’s always a painful experience. I’ve got tons of mental baggage in the clothing/appearance department and I’ve also got several undeniable cosmetic challenges—horrible skin and hair (hirsutism) problems being the tip of the iceberg. It makes me feel monstrous.

I have other challenges that are more run of the mill—finding stuff that is simultaneously age appropriate, modest, and aesthetically pleasing to me can be difficult. I require plus size pants that are petite length; I require wide shoes and will not torture myself with really high heels or with body shapers like Spanx; I don’t show cleavage and in fact cover as much skin as possible, yet I don’t want to dress like my grandmother, either. Most clothing, undergarments, and shoes do not work for me on one level or another, but hell, I know I’m not the only woman that feels this way.

Even though I don’t enjoy shopping, I’m trying to move beyond the sports bras, sloppy hoodies, and baggy jeans that I’ve been wearing the last few years. I’m trying to build a small workable wardrobe and wear jewelry again, something I used to love doing. When my fingers got too big for my wedding and engagement rings, I stopped wearing ALL jewelry. On some level, I think I didn’t feel like I deserved to wear jewelry anymore. I was so ashamed of myself. My rings still don’t fit and I’m still unhappy about that, but I think it’s time for me to move forward as best as I can.

I was planning to do a multi-part series on clothing, cosmetics, and beauty: all the challenges I face, my thoughts on the plus-size fashion industry, my thoughts on materialism, vanity, social class, and identity, where I’m actually shopping now, and so forth. Last night I wrote an outline for these posts.

Then I realized what a big distraction it all was. I can only devote so much of my time and energy to this issue and I’d be better off spending my time a.) actually shopping and finding what I need, even though that’s less fun than writing, and b.) working at normalizing my eating so I can lose weight, because the smaller I become, the easier it is to dress myself. As I go down the scale I have more options, things fit better, my feet are less swollen, “real” bras (meaning bras that are not sports bras) are less painful to find and wear, the inner thigh areas of my pants are less likely to disintegrate, I don’t have to pile on as many layers in an attempt to mask fat rolls, and I could go on.

It comes down to priorities, again and again. There’s a million things we could all potentially do, but which of them are the most important? Is taking pictures of my outfits for this blog the best use of my time? I don’t think so. What’s the endgame there, anyway? Do I want people to stroke my ego and tell me what great taste I have? Do I need people to pat me on the head? With much of what people do on their weight loss blogs, I’m not sure what the point is, what the underlying motivation is and whether it’s truly healthy…but I can definitely get sucked into doing what other people are doing in a mindless way if I’m not careful.

There is so much power in clarity, in knowing what's important to YOU. My thirtieth birthday is this summer and I’m getting clearer about what I’d like to accomplish by that milestone. My two objectives—my two true priorities—are earning money as a writer by age 30 and being further along in my eating disorder recovery and general mental health progress by age 30. That’s it.

The writing I hope to earn money from has nothing to do with this blog, so I won’t go into that now.

As far as general mental health goes, I will be continuing with meditation whilst bringing psychodynamic psychotherapy treatment to a close around my birthday. I’ve been with my current therapist for almost four years now and while it has been helpful, I do not think I can accomplish much more with her or through the psychodynamic model.

If I resume therapy in the future, which is entirely possible because depression tends to recur, I want to seek out someone that specializes in Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT). I’m ordering some books on ACT that will allow me to get started on my own now; when practiced without the guidance of a therapist, ACT is called Acceptance and Commitment Training. I’m really excited to learn more. ACT and Buddhism share many concepts and techniques, but because ACT is entirely secular, I think it might be easier for me to work with long-term.

ACT is also very much in line with the Brain Over Binge approach—so much so, I’m going to e-mail the author about it. She doesn’t mention it in her book, but I think she’d find it highly relevant.

General mental health and eating disorder recovery go hand in hand, but what should the next stage in my eating disorder recovery be? Well, I feel like a broken record: I want to feel confident that the binging is behind me. I want to know that I don’t fall for the antics of my animal brain anymore.

My classic binges are gone and what remains are behavioral episodes that could be considered overeating, but perhaps could also be considered a new, milder form of binging. No matter what you call it, the animal brain is getting its way in these episodes and I don’t want to reinforce such patterns. So I’m drawing an (admittedly arbitrary) line to gain some clarity, some certainty that the lower brain isn’t running the show: on an average day with no special social events, any urge to eat more than one sweet in a sane portion size will be viewed as neurological junk emanating from my lower brain. As both Kathryn Hansen has said on her blog and a helpful commenter has said on mine just the other day, it’s good to decide the portion size in advance, before you start eating. That way, if you eat more than you set out to, you know your animal brain has won that round. It’s important to face that reality when it happens.

Yesterday, I had a rich almond croissant for breakfast. In the afternoon, I had a candy bar. And at night, I had two little boxes of Nerds candy. With the new "line" in place, any urge to eat sweets after that croissant would have been viewed as silly mental chatter to be ignored. It was a regular Thursday, after all.

However, when I travel to visit my family for Easter in a couple weeks, I might have more than one dessert on a given day. Normal eaters do this sometimes during travel and during the holidays. I know many different people will be having us over for lunch and dinner and will be offering us baked goods and holiday candy. I just have to decide how much is reasonable before I start eating, and stick to that. It’s the mindless and compulsive shoveling of food that is the problem.

Note that I’m not making hard and fast rules, exactly. This is slightly different. I’m trying to establish definitions more than anything else: what behaviors do I define as normal and healthy and acceptable and coming from my higher brain, and what behaviors do I define as stemming from my lower brain’s tricks and antics? If I cave to the urges emanating from my animal brain, I need to figure out why it happened and how I can prevent it from happening again. This is not on-the-wagon-off-the-wagon stuff. I’m sick of crafting programs and systems with rules that are practically made to be broken. They make ME feel broken when I inevitably screw up, and it's too discouraging. I like to think that I'm not broken, but I am undergoing a re-wiring or re-programming of sorts so that I can function better.

Binging and re-wiring myself: an update

I'm part of the way through a massive brain re-wiring job, and my mixed eating behavior reflects that.

There have been days over the past few weeks where I've wondered if I've changed at all, because it's still normal for me to eat 2 or 3 cupcakes at a time instead of 1 (or none). I often don't want to slow down and eat mindfully; I still want to overeat; I still want to eat when I'm not hungry. I overate ice cream straight from the carton last week and felt out of control, like I "couldn't" stop.

But there HAVE been changes, and I suspect I have been taking them for granted. I opt to panic about what hasn't changed instead of appreciating what has changed.

One of the things that has changed is I no longer feel compelled to finish something just to "be done with it" or "get it out of the house." Binge eaters, past or present, know what I'm talking about. You eat all of the ice cream because knowing it's in your freezer drives you crazy. You bake a cake and polish it off the next day, just so it's over and no longer in the house. Who cares whether eating it is enjoyable--you just have this weird drive to eat it all and put it behind you. And you definitely want to be the one to have the last piece/scoop/portion.

That's definitely changed. I overate that ice cream last week, but I didn't finish it. There was a serving or so left in the bottom of the carton. It sat in the freezer for a couple of days. Then my brother-in-law came over and in the course of our snacking and visiting, I offered him the remainder of the ice cream. He finished it and I felt nothing--none of my old suffering or weirdness. I just didn't care. To recap, this was a two-part victory: not caring that uneaten ice cream was sitting in my freezer, and not caring that someone else finished it.

I recently baked cupcakes and ate spoonfuls of batter in my usual compulsive way during the preparation, which was disheartening. But I also froze many of the finished cupcakes so we could have them slowly over the coming days/weeks, and that's a very new development. True, I tend to eat them two at a time, or to smother them with whipped cream, which doesn't help with weight loss, but I don't feel tortured by the cupcakes sitting in my freezer. I don't care whether my husband eats the last few cupcakes. I can always make more.

Another change: I often want to overeat or eat multiple sweets a day, but I never feel tempted to carry out a classic binge. The fact that I don't want to buy a package of cookies and a pint of ice cream and a candy bar, and then eat it all in 45 minutes in front of the TV, in secret, is a major development! That doesn't even sound fun or pleasurable to me anymore.

But overeating? Eating in the absence of hunger? Eating dessert with lunch and then again after dinner? Still fun. Still pleasurable. I re-read "Brain Over Binge" over the last few days and did some thinking about this. And I realized that my complete recovery from disordered eating is going to look a little different than the author's, and it will take longer, and that's okay. The author was a naturally thin athlete with normal eating behavior before her bulimia took hold. Once she stopped binging and purging, she returned to the normal eating patterns of her childhood and early teenage years and her weight stabilized around 120 pounds. That's about how much she weighed before her disordered eating began. She sort of came full circle.

I cannot remember a time I was a normal eater or a normal weight. I weighed somewhere in the 135-145 range in 4th grade (and got my period when I was ten and a half, for what it's worth). I have been overeating and eating without hunger since early childhood. Full-blown binging came later, during my teenage years, but I had about 15 years of overeating wired into my brain before the binging even started.

So I've come to understand that even if I stop binging, I'm still going to want to overeat. It's a separate problem from the binging, in a way. I have to re-wire myself in that area too, and until I do, the excess eating will keep me fat. I'm facing a two-part recovery at the very least: address the binging, then address the many forms of overeating. It's going to take awhile, and so will arriving at a reasonable weight.

(Also? I'm straying off topic here, but I've got no idea what my "right" weight is. I know it's not 250 and I know it's not 120. I have felt pretty damn good at 175 before, during a period of dieting in college, and I would feel downright slim at 150. But it's all conjecture; I've got no idea what I can maintain in a healthy, relaxed fashion throughout my thirties and beyond. Anyway, I've just set my sights on 200 for now.)

There is some ambiguity in terms of when overeating crosses over into binging, even though I've previously attempted to delineate clearly what constitutes a binge for me. Some of what I used to call binging, I'm starting to view as overeating. I hope that soon, I will feel confident that the binging is truly behind me and that I can tackle the overeating piece of the puzzle without it backfiring.

The answer isn't out there

For years, I’ve tried to figure out the right way to have sweets—the foods I have historically overeaten and binged on. I wanted to know how could I eat them--or NOT eat them--without feeling tortured. I’ve written about this before. Sometimes I tried to come up with my own system, and sometimes I’ve looked to others for help.

I tried the no-S diet for some time, which says you should only have sugary treats on “S” days—Saturdays, Sundays, and Special Days, defined as major holidays and personal events like birthdays and anniversaries. (There were other components to the diet, which you can read about *here*.) The creator of this plan is a sensible guy and in no way condoned binging on S days, but I personally couldn’t stop binging and ultimately abandoned the plan.

Still thinking there was an answer somewhere “out there”, I went on to try Overeaters Anonymous for several months. My sponsor and the vast majority of people I met there advocated total abstention from desserts. My dislike of OA probably calls for its own series of posts at some point, but for now, it’s enough to note that a philosophy of total and lifelong abstention (even if viewed through the lens of “it’s not forever, it’s just one day at a time, tee hee!”) didn’t sit well with me.

(A classic OA’er response would be that I couldn’t handle total abstention because I’m incapable of honesty, or because I haven’t truly turned my problem over to a Higher Power, or because I’m too deep into my addiction, or whatever other thing they’ve heard parroted a million times in OA books and meetings. And my response to THAT would be: Sure, alright. Have fun attending meetings several nights a week for the rest of your life, and remaining obsessed with food and eating--albeit in a different way than you were before joining OA. Enjoy feeling that catastrophe is one missed meeting or Reese’s cup away. Enjoy not thinking for yourself. Enjoy the concept of powerlessness. Hey, is that sugar free Kool-Aid over there?)

Ugh. See?! On the topic of OA, I just can’t help myself.

So, more time passed. I started to read Mark’s Daily Apple and explore the paleo/primal philosophy and online community. I took some steps in that direction, but before long the whole thing struck me as too extreme and, perhaps ironically, too reminiscent of my days as a vegetarian. (Again, another post for another day.) Anyway, Paleo proponents tell you to kick sugar and wheat flour (and sometimes dairy, depending on the expert) to the curb, and Paleo dessert recipes sounded more like punishments than treats to me. So that wasn’t going to work much better than outright abstention.

When I wasn’t trying out someone else’s suggested plan or solution, I was asking myself questions like:

1. Should I stick only to gourmet and homemade treats? Maybe the cheap junky stuff I grew up with is the real problem because of the convenience factor and emotional ties I have to things like Little Debbie snack cakes.

2. Should I try having a tiny treat each day? Many people advocate that.

3. Or would it be better to have a normal or even large amount, but only have it once a week? Lots of people talk about weekly “cheat days” and it seems to work for them.

4. Should I modify no-S and keep sweets just for holidays and personal special days, which don’t occur weekly, and not have sweets on regular Saturdays and Sundays since that’s too much and I failed at regular no-S in the past?

5. Should I give myself permission to have one treat from each “category” of dessert, spread out over the course of the month? As in, choose one dairy-based thing, one baked good, one kind of candy, and one sweet drink to enjoy, once apiece, and that’s it for the month?

6. Should I not make any specific resolutions about the amount or type of dessert, and just let myself have anything I want during PMS week, since that’s when I crave crap the most? Maybe if I behaved the rest of the month, it would even out.

On and on this went--the musings of an obsessed person, desperate for answers. Desperate for something between binging and total, lifelong abstention.

These questions subsided for a short while after reading “Brain Over Binge.” Suddenly, it didn’t matter what the treat was, or how often I was having it, or for what occasions, as long as I wasn’t binging on it. I could have a little, or an average amount, or even a bit more than average, as long as it wasn’t a binge. What a relief!

Now, however, I’m a month into not binging, and the question of the “right” way to have sweets has resurfaced. The cessation of binging is the basic foundation I needed, no doubt about it. But I do have a significant amount of weight to lose as well as a problem with emotional eating, and how much/how often I eat sugary treats is going to affect my progress on those fronts. The author of “Brain Over Binge” doesn’t give specific dietary recommendations, so I can’t look to her for the answer on sweets. (The lack of such recommendations is only appropriate, given the focus of her book, the arguments she’s making about binge eating recovery, and her credentials. I respect her as much for what's in the book as I do for what she left out of it.)

Hmm, so if that author doesn’t have the answer…where to look next?

Then it dawned on me. The long-term answer regarding sweets is not “out there” somewhere. There is no magic pattern of specific days, specific intervals, specific treats, and/or specific amounts that will make everything easy for me. The answer lies in me and the development of my own self-control.

I know, I know. Facepalm in 3…2…1.

What I really want is to be able to trust myself in ANY scenario. It’s what I’ve wanted all along: the ability to make a rational decision that takes my normal human desire for pleasure, my desire for weight loss, and my other health concerns into account, backed up by the ability to stick to that decision. Whatever the situation, I don’t want to be swayed by my lower brain in the heat of the moment.

I want to be able to eat a little bit every day, or a little bit rather frequently, if I decide that’s appropriate. I want to be able to eat a normal-sized amount but then not have anything for awhile afterward, if that’s the rational choice I’ve made beforehand. I want to be able to completely abstain from dessert for as long as I deem necessary, if I deem it necessary. I want to know that whether it’s the cheapest shit out there or the most gourmet, I won’t lose control. That I can trust myself.

The ability to do all these things is important because I expect different approaches to be useful at different times. For example:

During the holidays, when there are social gatherings and rich foods at every turn, it would be good to have confidence in my ability to savor a small amount of something every day (or most days). I’d like to know I can enjoy 3-5 bites of something and stop there. The same thing applies to travel and vacations. People often gain weight when they go someplace new because they are eager to enjoy as many local specialties as possible. I want to try new things when I travel too, but eating a full serving (or multiple servings) of dessert every day for a week or two could very well result in weight gain. Daily sampling is a good compromise between total abstention and gorging. Believe me, I have gorged on gelato in Italy, stroopwafels in the Netherlands, chocolate in Switzerland, and pastries in Austria because I couldn’t bear the thought of missing out, and also couldn’t be satisfied with just a little. I understood my options to be EVERYTHING or NOTHING, because I wasn’t capable of anything in between at the time.

Different scenario now. Say my bloodwork comes back and I find out I’m prediabetic or diabetic. Or I get pregnant and develop gestational diabetes. Or I have a special event coming up and want to drop a few pounds to look as good as possible. Whatever the reason--if the route most aligned with my current concerns and goals is to completely abstain from desserts for awhile, I want to have confidence in my ability to do that…and in my ability to NOT go crazy when the period of abstention ends.

Or, say that I simply want to have an entire ice cream cone or a big piece of cake once in a while (not a few bites, but the whole thing, perhaps on my birthday?), yet I don’t want to gain weight or harm my health by initiating a downward spiral of overeating. I’d like to know I’m able to eat the whole serving and move on, skipping treats for some time afterwards in order to balance everything out.

As time goes on, my husband and I tend to go the homemade or gourmet route for our desserts. But when I’m with the rest of my immediate family, which happens a few times a year, I’m confronted by the Pop-tarts and Nutty Bars of my youth. And I want to trust myself around everything. Even within the category of homemade/gourmet, I currently have more confidence around baked goods and candy than I do around ice cream and other dairy treats. I ultimately want confidence around it all.

The only way to develop these abilities and this confidence is to practice. Practice periods of abstention, practice having a little bit many days in a row, practice having an average or even large-ish amount at more spaced out intervals. Practice with crème brulee, practice with Lucky Charms. So that’s what I’m going to start doing. I will write more about it as I'm doing it.

I wonder what other answers are staring me right in the face each time I look into the mirror?

Different types of Emotional Eating

I'm starting to see more shades of gray, and it's good.

There is a difference between emotional eating, emotional overeating, mindful emotional eating, non-emotional overeating, and binge eating. I haven't binged since reading "Brain Over Binge", but I have done all of these other things.

Last night is the first time I ever experimented with mindful emotional eating. It's a concept I read about in Pavel Somov's book, "Eating the Moment", over a year ago. (There is an excellent little article by Somov about this concept *here*. I'm a big fan of his work!) I had the worst evening I've had in a long time due to a relationship meltdown; several long-standing problems surfaced and I was confronted with them all at once. After hours of crying had produced a pounding headache, I sat on the couch and thought "a couple of chocolate chip cookie dough balls from the freezer would make me feel better. That is simple fact. They would soothe the tension in my head and body like medicine. They wouldn't solve my problems, but they would bring me some immediate physical and emotional relief."

I didn't act on this thought right away. But it kept resurfacing as I went about other activities. And then I decided I was going to slowly, calmly, and mindfully carry out a clear episode of emotional eating. I knew I wasn't going to overeat or binge. I knew I was going to eat exactly two cookies, make them last, and give them all of my attention. And that's exactly what I did. I brought them to the couch, wrapped myself up in a blanket, and savored them for somewhere between 10 and 15 minutes.

When I was done, I felt better. And I had learned something: when a crisis hits, it IS possible to self-soothe with food and yet NOT OVEREAT OR BINGE. I didn't feel guilty or sick when I was done, and I didn't regret my choice the next day. Not one bit. It's not that I want eating--even mindful eating--to be my default response to emotional stress. But this was a very important lesson for me; I needed to see that everything is not so black and white. Even if I turn to food in the worst of times, I don't have to do it according to my old ways of doing it.

Over time, I will work on eliminating all emotional and "regular" overeating (the latter happens when you are fine emotionally, but the food you're eating tastes so damn good that it's hard to stop at a sensible portion, and everyone I know experiences this from time to time). And perhaps after that, I will be stricter about all emotional eating--even the kind that is mindful and only leads to 2 cookies. I simply don't know at this point.

What I do know right now is that I'm committed to NOT BINGING, and I'm alright with the gray areas in this long process of learning to eat, think, and cope differently. Perfectionism and impatience brought me all the way up the scale, so I don't believe they can bring me back down. I have to try a different way.

See also:

Not recovered, but recovering: January 2009 versus January 2012

*Trigger warning. Don't read if junk food descriptions set you off.*

By January of 2009, I had understood for some years already that I had binge eating disorder. I was on my second therapist, and I was trying to come up with a way to curtail the amount of sweets I ate. I decided to try to limit myself to one treat day during the week and one treat day on the weekend. I thought that was moderate and realistic.

Later that year, I would discover the no-S diet and see that it had several similarities to the sort of thing I had been trying to do on my own. I went on to attempt no-S for part of 2009. And after no-S, I went on to try lots more things, including Overeaters Anonymous.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

In January 2009, I was simply trying to come up with a personalized, realistic way to get a grip. I started keeping records in a little book of the sweets I consumed. And this is my sad, alarming record for that month. It shows the ugly face of Binge Eating Disorder, for sure.

Jan 5: peanut butter cookies, chocolate chip cookies, 2 mint pudding cups with whipped cream, 2 Andes mints

Jan 10&11: several pieces of German chocolate cake, assorted candy (orange slices, Hershey kisses, mini Reese's cups, crispy chocolate coins), several pieces of marshmallow-chocolate-peanut butter bars, chocolate chip cookie

Jan 13: McDonald's mocha, Dairy Queen blizzard, cookies, 2 mint pudding cups with whipped cream, banana bread with butter

Jan 14: cranberry-banana bread, 2 donuts and a chocolate milk, pudding cup, mini Heath blizzard

Jan 16: sherbet, ice cream with whipped cream, mint pudding cup, various cookies

Jan 17: whipped cream, bit of caramel corn

Jan 18: caramel corn, Hershey's syrup straight out of the bottle, chocolate milk, some apple pie, crumpets with butter and jam

Jan 20: 3 Kit-Kats, 2 bowls of granola

Jan 23: bowl of granola, chocolate cupcake, vanilla cupcake, 2 regular Reese's cups

Jan 26: glazed donut, slice of Reese's cake

Jan 28: coconut flan, tres leches cake piece, English muffin with butter and preserves, granola with milk

Jan 31: 6 Oreos, vanilla cupcake, chocolate milk, hot fudge sundae

And that was me trying HARD to do better! I'm too lazy to transcribe all I wrote down in January 2009, but there are so many notes on the days I binged that say "this tasted like crap" or "wasn't worth it" or "I felt sick and disgusting after this" or "I had cramps and diarrhea the rest of the night." Not to mention, I was upset over my inability to keep the sweets to just two days a week.

Fast forward to 2012. These are the sweets I ate:

Jan 7: chocolate chip cookies and milk

Jan 8: a few peanut m&m's and Lindt truffles

Jan 10: a couple tastes of lemon curd and a few mini candy canes

Jan 12: 9 white fudge-covered Oreos, pint of red velvet ice cream

Jan 13: 3 white fudge-covered Oreos, rice krispie treat, 5-6 donuts, 3-4 bowls of sugary cereal

*read Brain over Binge on Jan 14 and 15*

Jan 16: regular size m&m's

Jan 20: 1 slice German chocolate cake

Jan 21: puppy chow (aka muddy buddies)

Jan 23: most of a small piece of lemon cake

Jan 28: half a small piece of flan, chocolate mousse, and 3/4 regular Hershey bar

I read that and think "it's still way too much." But it's undeniably better. I ate fewer things and smaller amounts. I didn't make myself sick repeatedly and my eating didn't devastate me emotionally. It wasn't a monumental struggle to go a few days between treats. I also know I eat better meals now than I did then; I have more protein and vegetables these days.

I wonder what January 2013 will look like?

Okay, so it's too early to bake

Yesterday was a special day for my husband and I. We went out for lunch, and I ate moderately. I enjoyed half of a perfect, tiny piece of flan. I thought that later in the day, I might use the immersion blender I received for Christmas to make chocolate mousse for the first time, just as a little evening treat for the two of us.

The day went on, and something career-related started bugging me. And against my better judgment, I decided to make mousse.

Now, I didn't binge on the mousse. But I overate, and I slipped into that same gray area that I spoke about recently (with the puppy chow). I started eating too fast; there was a desperation there. I set out intending to eat only the final product, but then started eating some of the ingredients as soon as the chocolate chips and Hershey bar were opened. I was standing at the counter, licking spatulas as I worked, and feeling unhappy and a bit crazy.

I made the mousse and some whipped cream to garnish it with, but neither turned out quite right. It still tasted good, and my husband loved it. Even though it was a moderate amount--nothing like a real binge--I ate too much, and in a short period of time. I mean, the mousse was rich--whipping cream, milk chocolate chips (melted), some powdered sugar, and vanilla. I didn't truly enjoy this dish because of the state of mind I was in.

Once I was finished eating, a small wave of nausea ran through me. It surprised me, but I guess my body isn't as used to pure sugar and cream, eaten rather quickly, anymore! I took a chromium supplement, ate some cheddar and sliced turkey, and walked on the treadmill for 20 minutes to mitigate the blood sugar spike I likely caused myself. I washed the whipped cream down the sink with water; it was a waste because we had eaten only a couple of tablespoons of it. I threw away the last bit of Hershey bar I had used to make decorative chocolate curls (that didn't turn out right, either) and put the remaining chocolate chips away with the rest of my baking supplies.

This is what I think.

1. It's too early for me to make desserts at home. Even though homemade means better quality and purer ingredients, I seem to have less of a problem when I go out and buy an individual serving of something.

2. I will have to work on "baking mindfully" at some point, because I do like to bake. Cooking feels like drudgery, but baking is fun.

3. It's best if I stay away from sweets when I'm upset to ANY degree. Even mildly upset. Though I understand I have control over my actions, I don't want to strengthen the association between emotional upset and sugary food in my brain any further.

4. It remains to be seen whether I can coexist with milk chocolate chips in the house. I did think about them once today, but the thought didn't linger long. If they become a problem, I will toss them.

I firmly believe that if I keep working on mindfulness and habit change, I will be able to do all the things a normal eater does, such as bake and have treats in the house. But I've got to address one area at a time, and right now, I'm still working on the fundamentals.

My mindfulness meditation classes start tomorrow, and I'm eager to learn. Have a great week, everyone!

Doing better

Today I was less anxious than yesterday, and I even signed up for an online course in Vipassana meditation that starts January 30th. I'm hoping it will help me with eating-related urges, with anxiety, with being ruled by my emotions and my lower brain in general. I also found a well-known center of instruction about an hour away from my house that offers classes and workshops, so I expect to make use of that in the future.

I overate in the evening again, after returning from the gym, but it wasn't a binge. I am happy that getting through the day without a binge isn't some huge struggle or accomplishment anymore. It's starting to feel normal. And if I keep working at it, one day it will feel normal to get through the evening without overeating.

One thing at a time.

High Anxiety

I realized tonight that I'm feeling really anxious. I consciously ate out of anxiety just a few minutes back. Not a binge, but I was knowingly and willingly eating to satisfy the urge to eat unnecessarily.

The anxiety is coming from two things. First, my husband came back today after more than two weeks away on a trip. While he was gone, I read "Brain Over Binge" and made some really positive changes to the way I was eating. Mealtimes were quiet, slow, peaceful--almost meditative. I only had myself to think about and cook for, and that made things much easier for me. Truth be told, I don't like being responsible for someone else's food--probably due to the numerous food/eating issues I have, and also because at 9 or 10 years old, it was already my assigned chore to cook dinner for our immediate family of seven on a regular basis. Over time, I have really grown to resent the task of cooking and cleaning up after others. I'd love to change this about myself, and occasionally do feel a bit of pride from serving others a nice meal and hearing my husband's compliments. But if he told me tomorrow that I was relieved of all cooking duties forever, I would cry tears of joy. (In case you are wondering, it is our agreement that until I'm making decent money from working--whether outside the home or as a self-employed person at home--one of my main contributions to the household is to cook wholesome food on a daily basis. I don't like it, but think it's only fair that I "earn my keep", like anyone else.)

Anyway, he's back. And now I'm scrambling to cook for him again. I just can't ever seem to find a steady, sane rhythm for meal planning, grocery shopping, and cooking--unless it's for a party of one. Meaning, just me. (This does make me scared of parenthood, by the way.) I don't have any confidence in my ability to make his breakfast, pack his lunch, and make his dinner consistently and on time while tending to my health needs and all the other things I need and want to do. If this makes him sound like an evil tyrant, he's not. He does demand lots of food (and is effortlessly slim, bah!) so I can get pretty exasperated with what seems like a never-ending task. But he's not a tyrant. If my inability to cook for one other human being and still function makes me sound ridiculous...well, believe me, I feel ridiculous. But there's some basic areas of functioning I struggle with, and this is one of them.

I ate mindlessly tonight, and zoned out in front of the TV for over an hour. When I came up for air, I realized I was just really, really anxious that everything is going to go to shit again. That I'm going to fall into binging again, for starters. That I won't have the presence of mind to remember or apply the things I learned in "Brain Over Binge" and will go crashing off the tracks. I started saying to myself "you're anxious right now. It's ok that you are. You are anxious..." My eyes welled up, saying that. It helped a bit to recognize it, and made me sit down to blog. That's a start.

I think I need mindfulness meditation classes. Seriously. I don't want to come unraveled over these seemingly small issues anymore!

At the beginning of this ramble, I said I was anxious about two things. The second thing is that I am starting to hop on the scale waaaaay too often. I'm starting to nitpick my food choices and scold myself for eating too much. Too many sweet things. Not enough water. Too much eating at night. I'm getting nutsy and impatient for substantial weight loss and thinking about alllllll the habits I need to change in order to really transform my body.

This is not a productive state of mind at all. Less than two weeks ago, I was binging. I need to be happy that I'm not binging right now, and build slowly and steadily from here. I know I'm in this for the long haul, yet I still fall into the trap of wanting and expecting too much, too soon.

Not binging, and eating my daily vegetable, and getting my exercise in...that's ambitious enough. My last binge was on January 13, so tonight I figured that I can focus simply on not binging for a month. Say, through Valentine's Day. On February 15th, perhaps I can add another facet to my plan.

Right now, I need to chill. Deep breath.

The problem with my rewards system

There are several problems, actually.

First off, the rewards system I am referring to is the thing I was tracking in a "Rewards" tab at the top of this page (now removed, but you can see December 2011's record *here*). I was trying to indulge myself with something other than sugary foods in the hope that doing so would build a new perspective, a new habit, and ongoing motivation for rejecting junk food. On days that I skipped desserts, I bought myself a small reward, like some makeup or an inexpensive book. On days that I ate sweets, I wouldn't purchase anything.

I thought this was a good idea because I've heard this suggestion many times in the context of getting over binge eating: you have to learn to treat and reward yourself with something other than food. Food can't be your main source of fun, entertainment, or pleasure anymore, so look for new options. And I also thought my system was smart because I was rewarding myself for meeting a process/action goal (getting through the day without sweets) that would lead to the achievement of 2 important outcome goals (weight loss and the termination of binge eating disorder).

Even though some thought had gone into this system and there was good intent behind it, I no longer think it's a great idea. In fact, I think it might work against me. Here are the problems I see with it now:

It reflects the (mis)understanding that buying something nice for myself will get me to stop craving massive amounts of sugary food. But when the urge to binge hits, books and sweaters and eyeliner aren't going to do anything to take that urge away. There is much useful discussion in "Brain Over Binge" about this--why well-intentioned advice to take a bubble bath or call a friend or buy yourself a bouquet of flowers when you feel like binging doesn't help lots of people. Those things aren't what the animal brain wants, so they don't satisfy the urge. The urge to binge will remain so long as you fight it, run from it, identify with it, and/or obey it.

It causes me to internally label each day and myself as either "good" or "bad" based on what I ate. It also makes me see sweets in an oversimplified way. Whether I ate a couple of homemade cookies or an entire box of trans-fatty snack cakes, I failed to act properly because I used sugar.

It encourages binge eating because of "I blew the day" and "I want to make use of this day" thinking. This is related to the point above. Since I viewed each day as PASS/FAIL, I wanted my FAIL days to "count" in the sense that I wanted to pack in the pleasure before the clean slate of tomorrow arrived. Why stop with the handful of m&m's when my "grade" is going to be the same whether I eat a little or totally binge?

The worst binge I had this month (and incidentally, the last binge I had before reading "Brain Over Binge") was on a day in which I had 3 Oreos first thing in the morning and was so exasperated with myself for "blowing the day" right away that I thought screw it. Today's a write off. I'm having whatever the hell I want now, and I'll try again tomorrow. That was my decision...30 minutes after getting out of bed. To make a not-so-smart morning into a totally reckless day. I wrote about it and received this great comment from someone called rk23:

I'm working on that "I've already screwed up, may as well continue" mindset as well. I keep trying to tell myself that no food is off-limits entirely, so I don't *need* to 'make the most of' today and begin anything anew tomorrow. Whatever food is tempting me will still be available some other time. I don't need to eat it all now. But that's tough. I know that for me saying "I'll start (again) tomorrow" is always a bad thing. Tomorrow comes and I don't want to start then either. I have to conceptualize today and tomorrow and every day as just my life, with no sense of stopping or starting or resolving to change. And even though I've learned to manage some feelings with self-talk, I'm finding that the way out of a binge cycle for me is just to *stop* talking to myself and do the best I can here and now without regard for what I might've done yesterday or what I don't want to do tomorrow.

After I read "Brain Over Binge", rk23's comment made even more sense to me. (Thank you rk23, whoever you are!)

So I'm suspending this little rewards system until further notice. My intention now is to CELEBRATE each loss of five pounds with a purchase of some sort, and I'll probably share those purchases on the blog. When it comes to day-to-day motivation for meeting process/action goals, I'll just have to be satisfied with the immediate reward for exercising, not binging, etc., which is feeling more energetic, clear-headed, and hopeful about the future.

Binging versus Overeating

I experienced the difference yesterday.

A (skinny, hyper, athletic) friend came over and it was his wish to have a movie & junk food night with me. Since 2005, making muddy buddies (also known as "puppy chow") about once a year has been a tradition of ours. He got a bucket of KFC for dinner and brought the Chex cereal, peanut butter, chocolate chips, etc. for the puppy chow. We had a nice long visit in the living room first, then the rest of the night was all about the food and entertainment.

By the end of the night, I had overeaten both fried chicken and puppy chow, and had eaten while watching TV/movies, which is something I want to stop doing. I am absolutely not blaming my friend for my own voluntary actions, but I will say that I found it hard to remain mindful in the midst of visiting with him and handling his chaotic energy. (I am much more subdued and mellow--an introvert--and can find it jolting to be around boisterous people. I sort of "lose myself" and then require time to recuperate. I'd been doing well with mindful eating recently because my husband has been away for 2 weeks on business and I've had a quiet home, time to myself, and space to explore a new pattern of eating.) Anyway, not only did I find it hard to focus on how fast and how much I was eating, but I was uncomfortable telling my friend I didn't want to eat during the movie, because that's EXACTLY what he wanted to do...and it's what I've willingly done with him for seven years now.

The bottom line is that I am going to have to figure out how to navigate these scenarios better in the future so that I don't overeat in them. Isolating myself and turning down social invitations is not the answer; learning to regulate myself somehow in less-than-perfect/peaceful situations has to be the way forward.

At one point towards the end of the visit, I found myself standing at my kitchen counter and eating the puppy chow rather fast out of a little bowl. I felt sort of out of control, like it would be almost impossible for me to stop eating right then and there, walk away, and leave the rest of the contents of the bowl untouched. I finished the bowl as these thoughts and anxieties ran their course. I didn't pour any more out for myself, and I sent all leftover chicken, puppy chow, and ingredients (again: chocolate chips and peanut butter) home with my friend shortly afterward.

Once the house was quiet, I started wondering if I had binged. I had eaten too much, too quickly, in a short period of time. And at one point, I had felt out of control--helpless to stop. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I had simply overeaten. I had not binged. Re-reading my recent post, How will I know whether I'm binging?, clarified the matter further for me. I had not carried out one my three "classic" binge patterns. And that moment of feeling out of control that worried me? I ate two more small mouthfuls to finish off that bowl and I DID walk away from the remaining cups and cups of puppy chow sitting in a bag next to my bowl on the counter. And it was no big deal. If I had truly been out of control or lost in a binge, I would have reached into that bag for another handful, or poured myself another small bowl and kept eating.

What's more, I did not take part of the leftovers to binge on after my friend's departure, despite his repeated offers for me to keep some of the food. I did not have feelings of anxiety or longing or desperation or anger as I put all the leftovers in a shopping bag for my friend to take home. I had no desire to run to the grocery store and get more treats to eat in private once I had the house to myself again. I felt no need to binge the next day (meaning today, a Sunday) and then "start over" on Monday. This is so, so different from my usual patterns of desire and behavior.

What's even wilder is that I am finding it effortless to eat lighter today as a natural compensation for all the indulgent food I had yesterday. My husband used to plead with me: honey, if you indulge, just go easy the next day. That's what I do, and then everything balances out. Please do this! I was never able to explain to him why I COULDN'T do that. I understood the principle, and I didn't disagree with him about the usefulness of it, but I just. could. not. do. it. because my urges to binge the next day were too much for me.

I hope it's not too early to say that something wonderful is happening to me.
I'm saying it with trepidation, like it might all go to crap again in the blink of an eye...but all this sure feels wonderful.

How will I know whether I'm binging?

That sounds like a funny question. But if I'm committing myself to no more binges, I need to get clearer on what constitutes a binge, for me.

My behavior falls right in line with clinical descriptions of binge eating disorder. I eat abnormal amounts of (indulgent) food, often when not hungry, in a short period of time. I usually have a few episodes a week. I have eaten to the point of physical pain--from being so overstuffed--and have feelings of shame and regret afterwards. I often sneak food or wait until I'm alone to eat excessively.

Beyond those common themes, I have three kinds of binges. One is where I eat a large amount (usually a package with multiple servings inside) of one thing. I eat an entire package of Oreos in one sitting, or an entire box of snack cakes. I eat most of a quart of ice cream. I eat an entire family size bag of Reese's Pieces. Stuff like that. I do this alone, or at the very least, I eat some in front of others and finish off the rest behind closed doors soon afterward (often lying to my husband that "I threw the rest out", which makes me feel more horrible than the binge itself, and very guilty). I often watch TV or movies when binging this way.

In the second kind of binge, I buy several different things and eat most or all of it in one go. I might buy a pint or two of ice cream, a candy bar, and an individual serving sized bag of chocolate covered pretzels. I always, always do these alone. Again, TV is often involved.

The third kind of binge involves day-long overeating and non-stop grazing on sugary, junky foods. I grab different treats as I go about my day. It's very mindless and scattered, but there's deceit involved, too. I eat at home and then go out to dinner with my husband an hour later. I eat 2 cupcakes privately and then later eat 3 cookies in front of another person. I think these kinds of binges happen when I'm busier than usual or around more people (like when I have company at home) and don't have the opportunity for a "focused" binge.

So, I suppose my answer is: I know that I'm binging if I'm behaving like any of the three scenarios outlined above.

I don't want to make hard and fast rules, such as "if I eat two desserts in a single day, that's considered a binge." Because I think days like that are going to happen, and it's more helpful to note the way I went about eating multiple things. Did I lie to or mislead anyone? Do I feel guilty, paranoid, or ashamed--or did I thoroughly enjoy it? If it was too much, do I think I simply made a poor choice from a health perspective, or did I totally surrender to my animal brain? Did I scarf the stuff down in a desperate manner or try to distract myself with TV to drown out the protests of my rational voice? (Because I think that's what's behind the TV watching while binging. Thus, I think it's a good idea to focus entirely on the treat in front of me from here on out. I WANT to hear my higher brain from now on.)

My default way of eating regular food, by the way, is pretty unstructured and graze-y. It takes effort for me to sit down to distinct meals. I just want to nosh and snack and eat all day even when I'm not binging. I'm trying to make meals more concrete by sitting down at the table and not multitasking, and that should clear up some gray areas as well.

Putting "Brain Over Binge" to Work

I'm excited and nervous and happy and scared and all sorts of contradictory things right now.

Kathryn Hansen's excellent book--Brain over Binge: Why I Was Bulimic, Why Conventional Therapy Didn't Work, and How I Recovered for Good--has made me feel more hope (regarding getting over binge eating disorder) than I've felt in a long time. The concepts in the book aren't new to me; I've read about psychology, psychiatry, addiction, nutrition, lower versus higher brain, identification of the "addictive voice", neuroplasticity, etc. before. But there's something to the way Hansen has synthesized and presented this wealth of information that makes it click better. And there's something to the way she carefully distinguishes between terms like "trigger" (as in environmental, social, emotional triggers) and "urge" (urges to binge) that I find helpful. On top of it all, she tells her own story of recovery from bulimia very effectively. I recommend this book to anyone that binge eats.

So now it's time for me to make use of the things I learned from this book. I've already started; there was no "one last binge" or anything of the sort after I finished the book and decided to get going. That in itself is different from my usual pattern of behavior!

(The rest of this entry might not make total sense unless you've read the book...)

The thing I'm somewhat nervous about is my ability to disassociate from my urges. And I'm unsure where to draw the line in terms of food restrictions. Yes, it's my lower brain telling me to binge. It's also my lower brain telling me to eat mac and cheese for dinner when my higher brain/self has a weight loss goal and knows that other dinner choices would help me get there faster. The question quickly becomes: do I need to tackle everything at once? And how do I know, by cutting myself some slack (not by binge eating, but by eating less-than-stellar foods), that I'm not falling for the tricks of the lower brain and thereby strengthening it?

Hansen says she found it helpful to not be overly worried or restrictive about her food choices when she was kicking the binge habit. The main thing is to know what constitutes a binge for you, to eliminate binge eating, and then build from there as desired. (Read more on this, from her blog, *here*.)

So I'm taking that advice. Right now, I'm committed to NOT BINGE EATING. I don't view this as a license to eat junk for every meal and snack, but I am determined to not let the perfect be the enemy of the very, very good. And no longer binging would be very, very good indeed.

More to come on binges, separate nutrition goals, and the like!