Well, I've never done this before but I'm going to write a journal about myself and my feelings and my past.  If anyone reads this and has a desire to write anything harsh about toughening up, those comments will be hidden so don't bother.  And I may even decide to delete this at some stage, but in the meantime I'm hoping there may be some sensible, gentle and helpful advice out there.  *And* that my words may speak to someone else in pain and give them hope for the future and to know that they are not alone.  Because these feelings of shame and addiction do leave you feeling alone.  You hide your shame, you hide your true self, and that feeds the addiction - whatever the topic of the addiction is.

So, I will get to it.  My words are not written with self-pity.  I hope it doesn't come across that way.  They are written because this is just the way it is.  I have no emotional tie to the past at all, I just don't know how to break free from it, or perhaps I more truthfully mean, how to replace what was never created, and should have been.  I belonged to Overeaters Anonymous once in the past and it changed my life.  I had to let it go for some reason I can't even remember - it was 20 years ago now - but I've rejoined and this is my Step One which I've chosen to share in the hope it will help more than just myself.  So here it is, with much love to all who suffer, or all who wish to try to understand...
[A dummy means a pacifier and chips means the crispy salted or flavoured ones in bags]

Step 1. We admitted we were powerless over food — that our lives had become unmanageable.

I certainly admit this, and freely.  At times, too many times, I have food in my hand and am eating uncontrollably.  If I were to put it down I would feel as deprived as a baby that had had its dummy taken away, and this is indeed for exactly the same reasons.  My 'dummy', my food, is my comfort; the eternal numbing of feelings that I don't want to have and, at the time this all started, honestly could not cope with!  I took to food when I was 11 years old to give me something in my life that would not let me down, would always be there, would not give me guilt, shame, blame, humiliation, lack of trust and so many other negative things that was all I received from my primary care-givers that I am ashamed to call my parents.  I remained living at home for another 7 years – plenty of time for the addiction to have fully set in.  And of course the damage that my primary care-givers did to me emotionally has been the gift that kept on giving, that kept me turning to food as comfort because I had been given zero coping skills.  No way at all to defend myself against every bully that has crossed my path even since I moved out of home.  The strong will say "Well why don't you just speak out?"  "Why don't you…." and the list goes on.  The answer to that is so simple.  I would truly love to have defended myself a million times over, but when you are crushed so thoroughly as a child, and also have a gentle nature, the strong advice offered is as impossible to carry out as for them to fly to the moon!

I was not even allowed emotions – I could not be upset when I was hurt (physically or emotionally), I could not be angry.  I could not even be happy – that was very quickly crushed!  As an adult I once put my hand into a sink to pick up a teaspoon, not knowing that the inch of water in there had just been poured from a boiling kettle.  I didn't change my facial expression, I didn't make a sound, I just continued listening to my co-worker as if nothing had happened, even though she screamed "Noooo!" too late to stop me.  My emotions had learned to be so thoroughly hidden.  No wonder I allow people to verbally slap me in the face so often and I only blink, but otherwise continue to smile politely and chat, and then crumble afterwards.

All of my achievements were stolen from me and accredited thoroughly to one of my parents, who took all the credit, and also spent my whole life convincing me that the other parent didn't love me.  As an adult I now see the truth, neither parent loved me – or my brothers either – they are incapable of true love because of their own 'conditions'.  I truly accept this now.  It just was what it was and there's nothing anyone can do about it.  I don't eat over my past pain.  I eat over my present pain because I still don't have the coping skills to stand up to life, so I hide and eat and think about the comfort of food instead of the situations.  If I was 'normal' (is there such a thing?) I would brush hurtful words away, knowing they were wrong, and take no notice at all.

Sometimes I try to talk through the bad things people have said or done to me, but, in order to do that I have to speak about it over and over and over, trying desperately to make some sense of how the abusive people in my life could treat me this way.  Truth is that I will never, ever make sense of it.  I have such a gentle nature that I could never in a million years understand how anyone could hurt another person for sport, for personal selfish gain, or just to exert power over another soul.  I need to stop getting on the roundabout of analysis of others, but it's the only way I know to try to come through the other side with some degree of healing.  To 'mince it to death' until it's impact on me has lessened.  How should I process nasty and unnecessary words and deeds from unkind people?  I just don't know!  I just do not know!  For those with decent self-esteem I guess they just get a shock, know their abuser is wrong, and then move along.  For those like me, whose self-esteem rocks regularly, and plummets on harsh dealings with others, we have no emotional strength with which to brush these words and deeds away!  My core beliefs about my own value and strength were completely stripped away from me for my first 18 years.  I had none.  Trust me, I had zero.  In fact, more truthfully, I was in negative figures.  When you have no foundation, how do you build a house?  You go through life believing, and rocked by, anyone that's nasty to you, and, for myself, and so many like me, the only solid comfort that you can trust, and that never lets you down, becomes an item that quickly becomes an addiction.  For me that is food.  Am I lucky that it's a legal substance, and one that's not quite as damaging as some of the other options?  Probably yes.  Am I doomed because it's an addiction I can't 'put down forever'?  Absolutely yes!!!  People with addictions to alcohol, drugs, gambling and other substances or actions have their struggles to stop, I don't argue, and am not minimising how very hard it must be for them, but food (oh how I hate you!!!) is essential to life.  Three times a day I must eat, must pick up my addictive nightmare, and three times a day I must stop!  I've done it a few times in my life, I've been truly free of the addiction, refused cakes, chocolate and chips because I honestly didn't want them, not because I was exercising will-power or was dieting, but because I was free.  By writing this and sharing it openly, by coming out from the shame of hiding, I am hoping I can hold my head high and find my confidence and freedom from addiction again.

With my heartfelt love to all who read
May