(in)visible scars

Innocently enough, I got into a conversation yesterday with a coworker that led me to a memory of me as a kid, a bag of Donut Fair donuts in my possession, refusing to allow anyone to share in my bounty. Much heckling ensued. I would not give up my precious donuts. Not for any one. Instead I went home and sat in my special place on the outskirts of the backyard, a small clearing hidden by thick bushes, and I ate every last one.

Even today, I don't classify those times as binge eating. I suppose that's what they were, but back then, macking on a bag of donuts--or a box of pop tarts or two, three Hostess pies-- was just something I did. I wasn't cognizant enough or self aware enough to realize that I just might be setting myself up for future (major) challenges that would vex me over and over and over again. Obviously there was some serious mindless eating going on. I doubt I thought of much else in those moments other than whether or not I would get caught eating a barrel of sugar right before dinner or when it was safe to show my face to my friends, since I knew they would be waiting to taunt me again, asking what happened to your donuts? or you gonna go back to Spee-D-Foods and get you some more donuts? Hell, why not just stab me instead? Really, just a quick flick of the wrist with a little muscle behind it and we could watch the blood seep from my new wound. Then, when I wanted to remind myself of the consequences of my bingeing, I could look at the scar, run my finger over its raised edges. It would be my mark, my talisman, evidence of a good girl gone horribly bad. It would be something I could point to and say See, here, this is what happens when you are out of control. This is what happens when you use food as a means to soothe. You get hurt. And the remnants of that hurt will stay with you forever.

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Without going into huge detail about it, I wanted to mention here the new PBS special, Fat: What No One is Telling You. I found this show fascinating and informative, and I didn't care that it's major sponsor was GlaxoSmithKline. I'm not planning on popping a "fat meltaway" pill anytime soon, so if that was the intent of this program, it failed. What I found most intriguing was the new science on the workings of our gut. Scientists are now finding that the gut can override the brain and that there is a degree of collusion between the two that was not previously identified. We might even discover that the gut has a "brain" of its own. For those of us who have fought the fat fight our entire lives, this comes as no surprise. Hunger is hunger, and it's a physical feeling, and no amount of cognitive therapy can change that. Try as we might, we often can't distract our gut by, say, switching our focus to something non-food related. Our hunger can be relentless, like a nightmare we keep trying to shake but the same horrifying images return the moment we close our eyes again.

I'm not looking for an excuse. I have the proper tools at my disposal and I know the path to weight loss. I also know that for me, that path involves an inordinate amount of steep hills and seemingly impassable sections that take an awful lot of en(courage)ment to traverse. Losing weight for me is HARD. It's my lot in life, and I'm learning to accept that. But it helps me to know that it's not just lack of willpower or laziness or self-sabotage that creates huge roadblocks/detours. There is still a lot we don't know about obesity and all its attendant issues. I take comfort in knowing that. I'm not going to use new science as an excuse to give up; I'm using it as a means to reinforce that what I have believed all along, deep down--one must fight fat holistically, and avoid putting all the emphasis on "eat less, exercise more"--holds water. Trusting myself. Trusting knowledge. Power comes.