In recovery speak, they talk about hitting our the bottom. DUI, divorce, homeless, bankrupt, STD’s all can be “bottom” moments that begin a new direction.
A few nights ago I may have hit bottom.
I am addicted to food. Actually, I am depressed. Food is what I use to try to feel good. A quick detour for those of you who do not understand depression, or at least my version, it is the inability to experience or sometimes even imagine true pleasure. I feel numb more than anything else. Sometimes I am sad, but when I am depressed I mostly feel numb. This is where sugar comes in. You can insert in place of sugar any number of quick fixes: sex, risky behavior, beer, shopping, porno, work and success, fighting, etc. The list is much longer than this, and I have tried them all, but my favorite is always sugar. Not very glamourous, but it is my default addiction. It is a bit embarrassing in that guys are not normally talking this addiction. The guys seem to often have work addictions, but at least they get six-figure incomes and a nice retirement. I get a huge ass and diabetes.
I seldom know why I am getting depressed, or even that it is happening, I just seem to not fit into any of my clothes anymore. I think sugar will make me happy. It feels good, and if it feels good, I might be happy, even if it is for the briefest of moments while I chew. This has been an especially hard season, and the darkness is fast approaching.
Yesterday I woke with a new resolve to defeat my dependency on food, actually I always wake convinced that I will never again fall to the temptation to gorge. I drank a low calorie nutritional drink for breakfast and had a ½ apple for lunch. Wow, I am healed.
But the evening is what always gets me. After 10 hours of sobriety, I deserve a little reward. I never have a little of anything, however. Then I always have this thought, “oh, screw it, I am a loser and now I have blown it. I may as well go all the way…”
I gorged. Picture a bear at the spring salmon run, or any six year old left unattended in the candy store. I discovered Nutella (Nutella is a peanut butter like concoction made of hazelnut and chocolate that Satan invented. In the periodic table it is the caloric equivalent of lead.) I began with Nutella on a graham cracker, but it felt more like a tease. Alas, there were no more crackers. The next installment was Nutella on a spoon, a large spoon. Good, but not quite enough. I needed something substantial to carry the Nutella. I found chocolate pop-tarts. I promise that in that moment it made perfect sense, the proper antidote to my pain. After what a civilian would have considered an excessive amount, I loaded a chocolate pop-tart with an inch of Nutella frosting and looked for Nirvana.
That must be a bottom. I hope it will motivate me to a new direction. I called the doctor, resolved to get back on my med’s. This blog has no real point, just a confession.
p.s. some of you might be reading, starting to feel anxious. How can we help Karl, you might wonder? Just understanding. That’s all I need. And please, no favorite sugar free jello recipes.
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3 comments:
I never struggled with food and/or depression, in the past, because I was so heavily medicated with porn, anger and control. As I have found relief from the old addictions, I find myself leaning toward the food and depression, some. Although not with the same gusto I chased those other drugs of choice with. Maybe it's the age. (I can't run as fast as I used to). Maybe it's the wisdom (Naw, probably not). Maybe it's the Grace of God and a wonderful body of community who love unconditionally and extend grace. (Yeah!! I think that's it.I think I might be on to something. Grace and community. I think I might be finally getting it after all these years). Even a blind squirel finds a nut eventually, don't ya know? Karl, your honesty and vunerability is so refreshing. Love ya man.
Thanks for sharing that, Karl. I could hear you speaking it as I read it. It made me miss you. I understand and I am praying for you...
bd
Karl,
I'm one of those who loves you more for your honesty and vulnerability. Paul admitted his weaknesses. I'm so sick of the "I'm a better Christian than you because I get paid (or "I'm a man)" crap that most pastors ooze.
I would much rather walk with you (or have you walk with me) than to have you lead. Thanks for stopping, turning around, and letting me walk with you instead of behind you.
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