Some weeks I despise writing this blog. Especially when the topic is about something I would rather ignore. This was the case last week, when I felt compelled to shine some light into the dark corner I had been sitting in while stuffing my face with unhealthy, sugar laden treats. Despite my refusal to acknowledge that when you stuff things into an object, it will eventually begin to bulge in places, I had been noticing the “muffin top” phenomena forming around my midsection. And so I wrote about it.
In a way, I’m glad I did, but in many ways I wish I hadn’t. Because one of the requirements of living in denial of something is a continual refusal to acknowledge it, much less to talk about it with others. I have heard it said that recognizing a problem in your life is the first step in starting to fix it, and I understand the logic of that. But for me, recognition of an issue has not guaranteed any quick actions to remedy situations in the past. I remember quite clearly recognizing that my use of alcohol was odd – if not entirely different and quite destructive compared to the drinking of most people around me. I am quite sure I even recognized that I might be a “problem drinker”. This insight – in and of itself – made absolutely no difference in the manner or the quantity that I drank. In fact, it helped me to explain it! “Of course I’m having another beer even though I feel like I may vomit – I have some type of issue with this stuff – now down the hatch with it!” For me, simply identifying the issue was not enough to begin changing it. It was as if I saw myself off in that dark corner, doing something that seemed different and odd, and then, instead of shining the light in to look deeper, I simply said “Hmmm. That’s interesting. I just might have to do something about that some day. But not today…”
The forward movement in my sobriety only began when I actually stopped drinking. And I needed to do that abruptly – without giving myself an “abstinence date,” or trying in vain to taper down on the amount I was drinking, or by drinking alcohol-free beverages “which actually contain some alcohol, just not enough for the F.D.A. to consider the beverage alcoholic – but that is a topic for another blog!” On the day I stopped drinking, I also stopped smoking cigarettes – an addiction that had started before my drinking, but that became so attached to my alcohol abuse that I saw no way to quit one without also quitting the other. And I quit smoking using the same approach I employed for alcohol – blunt force, no nonsense, you are done here and now action. No nicotine substitutions, medications, or tapering. Needless to say, I was a real pleasure to be around during those early days and weeks of my detoxification from these substances. But I stayed stopped.
Shortly into my abstinence, I discovered that telling others about my decision to quit was another powerful tool. I did not share this fact with others to brag or boast, but I would mention it in passing if the topic came up, and each time I did it seemed to make my abstinence more concrete and to strengthen my resolve. It was as if I was redefining myself to others through sharing this information with them. I used to be a smoker and a drinker. Now I am not. I was surprised at the effect that telling others had on my resolve to stay “clean,” but I have found out since that sharing information about new and healthier decisions in my life is another way to brighten the light that gets shone into the dark corners of destructive behaviors. I’m fairly sure that the original founders of Alcoholics Anonymous understood how important and potent it is for people at meetings to begin talking by saying “Hi. I’m Brian and I’m an alcoholic,” because voicing those few words to others is a powerful reminder of one’s problem with addiction and also of the responsibility and the choice for actively working on the solution to that problem every moment of every day.
And the issues I have around food are just another way that my addiction manifests itself in a slightly different form. Most people in recovery find that they need to give up ALL addictive substances – not just the one that caused the most glaring problems in their lives. An alcoholic who has had several D.W.I.’s and who has admitted his problem with alcohol is much more likely to develop a dependence on another substance – let’s say marijuana – if he should chose to substitute smoking pot for drinking. This is a fairly common practice for people in the early stages of giving up an addiction, and it is called “substitution of substance”. When I first got sober, I went through this phase of desperately wanting to believe that I could continue to use something – anything – to mimic what I saw as the positive effects of my drinking. I wanted to be able to relax – to unwind – to forget about the everyday problems and worries and hassles and crawl into a bottle of something for awhile. The problem for me was the same problem that many people who are wired for addiction face: the things that are used as substitutions become problematic because we require more and more and more to achieve what we perceive as beneficial effects. We have the ability to develop a tolerance to anything addictive, and in doing so we need MORE! I have heard many people in 12 step meetings begin with that my reminder: “Hello, my name is Brian, and my drug of choice is more.” I was taught and soon learned from personal experience that being sober was going to have to mean being fully sober for me. Complete abstinence from all habit forming and mood altering substances with no gray areas allowed. Period.
I seem to work best with clear, finite, and sudden changes when it comes to staying completely sober. I mentioned before that sitting down and making a plan of action that involves anything but complete cessation of an unhealthy behavior is most likely doomed to fail for me. I just don’t role that way – moderation rarely works. It’s like leaving a full plate of bacon in front of a dog and trying to teach the dog to eat only one piece. I remember one clever plan I hatched to face my sugar addiction by cutting out ice cream consumption on every day of the week but Sunday. This seemed reasonable, and might have worked for a normal human, but I found myself in front of the freezer each Saturday night at 11:59, posed and ready with spoon in hand to attack the half gallon of ice cream as soon as the clock struck midnight.
Being a fan of boxing, I know that there are basically two approaches a fighter will take when he or she enters the ring. The first is to rely on evasive maneuvers – fast footwork, covering up, ducking, and moving in an attempt to tire the opponent out. The second approach is to come out swinging. Go on the offensive and take control of the fight by dominating your rival from the first round. I need to come out swinging at my unhealthy, harmful, and addictive behaviors. Simply recognizing that they are standing in the ring across from me, taunting me and occasionally delivering a punch or two at my head does very little to move the fight along. Neither does trying to evade the behaviors by avoiding or denying the damage they are causing – by dancing around the ring with them and holding back my power punches while they continue to jab at me and wear me down. I need to plant my feet, focus my mind, and just start swinging.
I don’t recommend this approach for everyone when it comes to negative or destructive behaviors in your life – I just know what works for me. I have talked with many, many people who have achieved abstinence and made other great life changes only after much planning, and small movements, and by eventually tiring out the energy that feeds their addictions. In my experience there are many, many pathways that can lead to sobriety of mind and spirit. I advise everyone I speak to who decides to quit smoking to look into nicotine replacement therapy and anti-craving medications. I know that these things work, and I believe that people should stack all the odds in their favor when beginning abstinence from an addictive substance. I simply never considered these options back when I quit. For me there has never been healthy growth and change without first experiencing discomfort – usually of the very painful to extremely excruciating variety. Only then do I begin to consider the benefits of thinking or acting in healthier ways. Not wanting to go back to the initial pain of starting over again is, in fact, a great motivator for me. The simple fact that it would hurt just as much if not more to start fighting round one with these old behaviors will often be enough to keep from crawling back into the dark corners again.
I came out swinging this week against my muffin top. I have been eating healthier foods and exercising daily. The drawer in my desk usually reserved for chocolate bars and candy sits empty, as do several other of my favorite honey holes for similar savory treats. The battle is on. I have also dusted off my collection of books, exercise videos, and the arsenal of weight watching weapons I have cached over the years that all basically say the same thing – eat less and exercise more. The sick, angry Muffin Baker in my head is not happy with this sudden “shock and awe” tactic of getting things back on track and under control. He keeps screaming that things were not really that bad, and that my resolve will never last – that I will never go the distance in this fight. And maybe he is right. But for today, and just for today, I’m going to keep fighting and keep swinging and continue to do things that will help me and those who love me in the long run…
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