I wrote most of this post months ago but kept it as a draft because I was afraid to share it. Not sure where the fear came from - it’s not as deep or traumatic as my post on surviving sexual assault or even as embarrassing as what I tried to hide within this post called Play Time through innuendos and puns.
I think the topic of food still feels raw, especially after trying to change my behavior for months (and years) with therapy, yoga, and writing. Maybe I haven’t shared it because I still haven’t found a true resolution to it which adds more shame. But
posted Part 1 of her Food Story this week, and I told her it just might give me the courage to share mine. Thank you, Nour!So here I go, trying to lean into the power of vulnerable storytelling because sharing in the community has proven to be an effective strategy for my healing in the past.
Things were going great for me, so well that I thought “Maybe now is the time to start therapy again so I can focus on figuring out the food stuff.” It’s been something I’ve been trying to wrap my brain around for a while and since nothing else was going wrong in my life, I had the time, energy, and capacity to tackle it.
So I met with a new therapist, and that first week she suggested I write down my thoughts about food for a day or two to share with her. Below is a story from an average day that week -
The Start of the Mind Spirals
During lunch with a friend, she shared about looking for a new gig after being laid off and the fear of failure she’s battling. She is trying to use the forced career change as a positive pivot and wants to be selective, choosing something that will make her happy, pay the bills, and not cause burnout. The trifecta! May we all be so lucky.
We agreed that we don’t need to climb the success ladder anymore. Why did I even think the ladder was necessary? Capitalism is the worst. Society’s lies merged with my adolescent desire to prove myself and up the ladder I went.
We spent our 30s striving and dying for our employers and now that we’re 40, we just want to pump the breaks and rest a bit. Trade in the ladder for a hammock and sway with the breeze. I enjoyed lunch, and connecting with my friend, and felt great heading back to work.
Driving away from lunch alone in my car, a string of anxiety-ridden questions formulated in my mind without answers to any of them.
What if I got laid off next? What would I do?
What if higher education goes under and we all lose our jobs?
What if no one wants to hire me and I can’t find any other way to make money?
That went downhill fast.
I went from supporting a friend as she was considering a new career to somehow being the one jobless and broke. I know this train to Spiral City is a waste of time as it doesn’t take me anywhere good but when life gets real, it’s easy to go down a rabbit hole of wondering what’s next.
What if we lose our house because I can’t help to pay the bills?
“Damn,” I thought to myself, “now that’s dramatic, and based on fear and failure. This must be Tiffany talking. Shut it, Tiff!”
I giggled at the idea of my inner voices arguing and it calmed my nervous system enough to try to move on and my thoughts moved immediately to food.
When I feel this way, like things are out of my control, my thoughts race through all possible future disasters. My mind grasps things I can easily manage and seeks an uncomplicated answer to the discomfort I feel in my body. Often, it is food. Not just any food, of course. I don’t know if it’d be as big of a problem if I craved a kale salad with chicken or hummus with carrots and cucumbers.
When I feel frazzled, all I want is an Oreo milkshake. Or creamy gooey mac and cheese. Or a soft pretzel dipped in hot melted cheddar cheese. I want dairy foods with a gluten cherry on top. Foods that make me cozy and then shameful once the belly aches begin.
After that lunch conversation, I spent the afternoon plotting how to get my fix.
Navigating Mental Minefields
On the way back to work after lunch, I stopped at WAWA to redeem my $5 scratch-off lottery winner I’ve been carrying around since Valentine’s Day. Without any conscious thought, I found myself up at the MTO screen (that’s the Made-To-Order screen at WAWA, a local convenience store).
A few easy taps and I’m in! I thought “I’ll be good and get a smoothie instead of a milkshake.” I found a mango banana passionfruit smoothie, 16 ounces, no whipped cream (because I’m “being good”).
I was not hungry. At all. I just finished every bite of the pad see ew at Thai Basil for lunch and was full. Remembering this, instead of hitting Complete Order, I hit Cancel. Phew, that was a close one!
I walked to the lottery ticket machine, passing by those soft pretzels filled with cream cheese under the heat lamp, and I held my breath, worrying that if the smell got to my brain, I would have compulsively picked it up.
I passed by the Entenmann’s pies and glanced at the Tastykakes, trying to avoid direct eye contact with the chocolate juniors and the cupcakes with cream filling. Making it through the minefield of sugary treats, I continued to the lottery machine, got my $5 of new scratch-off tickets, and walked out without any food at all. I was feeling lucky - and so proud of myself.
But why? Why did not getting food when I wasn’t even hungry make me feel proud?
Once back at my desk, chocolate danced in my mind and I began digging through my desk to see if I had any stashed away for this very moment. I noticed on the walk into the building that the candy dish in the lobby was quite empty, just a few stray tootsie rolls. I thought, “Maybe around 330pm, I’ll stroll out to use the restroom and slow down just enough to grab a tootsie as I pass by the dish.”
I planned it out, like a sneak attack, as if I’m not a grown-ass woman who can just enjoy a piece of candy. Because I can’t. Instead, I feel like I have to hide it and I rarely get to enjoy it.
With a plan to visit my Aunt after work, I started considering what eateries and restaurants I’d pass between here and there. I googled a few places and found a Bruster’s ice cream right near her. I thought, “I’ll have to text her on my way and ask if she wants a smoothie or a milkshake or some other kind of treat.” She deserves it, I’ll tell her, but really, it’s for me.
As Taylor Swift says in Anti-Hero, “Did you hear my covert narcissism I disguise as altruism like some kind of congressman?”
I feel this entire song deep in my soul, take a listen and read the lyrics below.
How did I get here?
After two years of psoriasis spreading across my body with no clear cause, creams and pills with no relief, and multiple doctors and specialists with no answers, I was desperate to find a solution.
Feeling hopeless, I said to my second dermatologist, “I’ll try anything.” But when she retorted with, “No more cheese or bread.” I cried out, “No! Anything but that!”
Sadly, I’ve discovered that she was right. Dairy and gluten create inflammation in my body that results in arthritis, skin issues, and digestive problems. I finally tried going dairy-free and gluten-free at her suggestion and within a week, the psoriasis didn’t burn as much. That motivated me to continue and within six weeks, my entire body was completely clear with not a single psoriasis mark. Just six weeks!
It was shocking how my diet caused disease in my body. But even more shocking is how now, when I feel dis-ease in my body, I turn to the most harmful foods first as if I have forgotten the pain they caused me before.
I’ve been psoriasis-free since 2019 but after a while, mental cravings for the foods have ramped up to become a constant battle in my brain. Over the past two years or so, it’s become unbearable. I’m either thinking about food, trying to avoid thinking about food, eating, or feeling bad about eating.
We all want treats and sweets now and then but with my restrictive diet, there are many things I “can’t” have and it is those specific foods that I’ve been craving as if restricting them made me want them more. I’ve been vegetarian for over a decade, and I started craving meat too! That was something I never wanted before.
Hiding my food choices from friends and family started happening and eating alone became the norm. I didn’t want others to know I was breaking my own rules around eating. It’s not that I was gorging on cookies, pies, and cakes (though sometimes I did enjoy sweets) - more often, I was eating grilled cheese, a slice of pizza, or a chicken cheesesteak. Foods that others don’t see as terrible but are terrible for my body. I’d think “If it was a true allergy, I wouldn’t eat it, so why can’t I just stop?”
The shame grew larger with every bite.
In therapy, I’ve learned that restricting, even for medical reasons, can often have this negative effect of craving so I’ve tried to be more open to allowing myself some dairy or gluten at times. The idea was to be less restrictive so that the cravings would be diminished. Moderation became my mantra.
I wished to just be normal and not obsess over food.
The Myth of Moderation
My therapist reminded me that shame grows in the dark and if I don’t hide my food choices, the shame might dissipate. I started telling my husband when I bought and ate something in the car. I started allowing myself to enjoy gluten or dairy on special occasions and gave myself grace when I gave in.
And it worked for a while - until it didn’t.
The problem is that when I do eat these foods, I feel massive relief - an explosion of serotonin that makes me want more. Cravings get stronger each time I eat gluten or dairy making the next day even harder.
One slice turned to two much too easily. One day of pretzels turned into “I might as well have…” The stomach pains would return and my hands and knees would throb from joint swelling. A small red rash would form around my lips as visual proof that my body disagreed with my choices. My body was clear about what it wanted and didn’t want. Why couldn’t I just listen?
I always questioned myself after eating, “Was that even worth it?” It rarely was. “It’s okay in moderation,” I say to myself, but moderation is a myth.
Moderation calmed the cravings for a time but still caused negative results, and often led to more cravings. Moderation became a vicious cycle.
I learned that moderation is a load of crap I’m selling to myself instead of managing my emotions without using food. Moderation is just an excuse.
Check out this amazing article that beautifully shares this point: How “Everything in Moderation” is Just Settling for Mediocrity by
from Jan 30, 2024.
When my stomach doesn’t hurt after a slice of pizza, I think “Finally, I am free! I can eat this again!” But why?
Why would I want the very thing that I feel shame about?
Why would I want the food that causes such immense harm to my body?
Why would I want the items that are the root cause of deep mental anguish?
I have no clue. And that just adds to the guilt and shame associated with food.
Guilt and Shame
When I’m with people who don’t know about my restrictions, I feel free to eat whatever I want which is another odd piece of this puzzle. Like at work, when eating lunch with people who know me, I tend to make better choices because I feel watched or judged for my food choices but when I’m with people who don’t know my needs, I use it as an excuse to eat whatever I’m craving.
The story below is another journal entry from when I started therapy showcasing my thought process around food.
The mental energy I expend on food, first thinking about it and then forcibly stopping myself from thinking about it, takes its toll. It’s exhausting.
Leadership brought in bagels for a morning meeting and I had to fight myself to stay seated and not lunge at the box. I took half a bagel, “just half today,” I say to the person in line behind me, and she smiles knowingly as I spread the cream cheese on thick.
As the meeting ended, I grabbed the other half and made a joke about it trying to hide my insecurity. “I always try to eat just half, oh well!” We all giggled and agreed, and I tried not to draw too much attention to myself as I looked longingly at the pastries that were left.
An hour later, I snuck into the break room and grabbed another bagel - both halves that time - no messing around - and I ate it quickly. At lunchtime, I casually grabbed a scone as if it was the first treat I snagged since the morning meeting.
Moderation attacks again. Having one is never enough.
Around 3pm, I realized I had never eaten my nutritious packed lunch. In the break room to get paper off the printer, a blueberry muffin with glistening sugar crystals shone in the light, glaring at me. It was cut perfectly down the center and I wondered if the perfect-cutter would come back for the other half, as I did earlier. “No, they were able to control their intake,” I thought, “Bitches.”
This is the spiral and struggle I feel around food. The mental ping-pong, back and forth, of restriction and moderation, of spiraling and shame.
Some days, and even some weeks, go by without these thoughts and I feel that I’m making progress - and then they return, stronger than ever. Therapy has helped me think deeper about food, and writing has been valuable in understanding my thought process, but I’m still struggling. I spend way too much mental energy on food.
I wish I could just eat when I was hungry, choose healthy options for my body, and not allow food to consume me.
I haven’t figured this one out yet. If you have, I’d love to hear what works for you.
Journal Prompts:
What is your relationship with food? Are there any foods that trigger specific feelings, positive or negative? How do you think those connections between foods and feelings were formed?
What types of mental spirals or brain battles do you deal with and how do you manage them?
Is there something you are struggling with but you aren’t comfortable talking about it with others? Why do you think that is? Can writing about it first help you feel more comfortable sharing?
Thank you for reading Write to Heal. Please hit that heart button❤️if you made it this far. I’d love to hear your thoughts about mental spirals and all the food stuff!
Write to Heal will always be free. If you’d like to donate to the cause, feel free to buy me a chai! Your support is much appreciated.
Fragile Thoughts: A Healing Memoir is available anywhere books are sold.
Appreciate your vulnerability on this subject, Katie. We live in a culture that surrounds us with convenience foods, most of which are made with ingredients & portioned sizes that aren’t great for anybody on a regular basis, let alone those of us with food sensitivities. And eating whole foods all the time DOES take a ton of mental energy in that cultural environment. You’re not alone. ♥️
Thanks so much for linking to my essay on moderation, Katie. “Everything in moderation” is a myth that, for me, doesn’t work and holds potential for harm.
Sending you an abundance of care as you walk with this. Though my own issues with food and eating are different, I very much understand the impact they can have.
Only since you asked us to share what’s worked for us, I’ll mention that when I ate a (nutrient-deficient) vegetarian diet for ten years, I was deeply addicted to processed carbs and sugar and deeply lacking in healthy fats and protein. That was in my 20s, so I could “kind of” pull it off for a while (though it wreaked havoc on my mental health, energy levels, etc.). Now, at age 49, no way. I don’t need a lot of meat, but I need it at least 2-3 times a week and eggs on the other days. I find it essential for mood, focus, energy, sleep, metabolism, immune health, everything.
I’m in no way saying what worked (and works) for me is the best fit for everyone, but doing a no-cheat, no-negotiation “Whole30” in my late 30s was a game changer. Since then, I’ve followed a paleo-primal diet 90 percent of the time (with many months at 100 percent); I practice intermittent fasting and eat two meals a day without snacks, making sure to get plenty of food, protein, and fat at each meal (the first is a late breakfast/early lunch; the second is dinner - I also have coffee with butter and/or almond milk upon waking).
This was the only thing that disrupted my sugar and carb addiction AND changed the kinds of foods I crave and love. Physically and mentally, I’ve thrived eating this way and am no longer stuck in the starve-binge cycle.
At 49, I still have a regular monthly period, am pain free, have a vigorous yoga practice, and feel energized. In my 20s, while vegetarian, I went a decade without menstruating, was depressed and exhausted, and reached a point where I was getting a new injury at every step and not healing. For me, feeling like I do now is worth the tradeoffs (but, as mentioned, I still love eating my meals!).
Again, sending so much care to you, Katie. Whatever ends up working for you - which may be totally different than what worked for me - there IS hope. The specific foods we consume can re-pattern our tastes and our whole system - in ways that are unhelpful…but, also, depending what we eat, in ways that are helpful and align with our biology. Cheering you on.