Posts Tagged ‘food addiction’

After what I mentioned in the previous post I have decided to go for a partial fast where my diet will be limited but not reduced to nothing. Fruit, raw vegetables, berries, nuts, that I will still allow myself. In not too great amounts. To drink it’ll be water or tea. 7 days. Weirdly enough I am more worried about managing this for 7 days than if it had been a whole water fast, just because it is easier for me to not eat at all than it is to eat and then stop myself.

I expect tomorrow, the first day, to probably be the hardest. Just because it’s so, so easy to say to myself that I can always just cheat a little bit on the first day, who would know the difference? And I do have major issues with self discipline when it comes to food. Eating even just a little triggers such an immense response inside my brain (food addiction, for real, yes) but that is also part of why I do this. To challenge myself to take control. The positive health effects I have seen before when fasting are of course an important factor but the mental effect of taking control is incredibly important too.

Food addiction. It’s an eating disorder, I have been diagnosed with it but the help I could get was limited because my problem is neither bulimia nor anorexia, but just a food addiction. When I eat there is an immediate response inside me, it’s like a little explosion of pleasure inside my head that is just divine, and for a moment everything feels good. It’s more than just eating as a result of stress or the more typical mood related eating, it is an actual addiction. But where an alcoholic can stop drinking entirely, I can’t stop eating entirely. Not for more than a few days. Imagine the poor alcoholic who is forced to drink just a little each day? See why I fast? I don’t do it often, maybe once or twice a year, so don’t worry about me trying to starve myself. It’s just… taking control.

That and the actual physical effects as I have already mentioned. But still, I believe for me the psychological impact is probably most important.

Along with fasting I will strive to meditate each day, and to go for a walk each day (regardless of weather). I’ll update the blog once per day too and let you know how it is going (and to keep myself motivated).

And how am I feeling right now? I’m hungry. I have been unusually hungry all day. Isn’t that typical? Hungry, and a little nervous that the first thing I’ll do tomorrow when I get off work is give in and buy something tasty. *sigh* It is hard already. But I will do it.

Will write more tomorrow, now good night!

Oh, and one more thing. I know a lot of people think that fasting isn’t healthy or safe. If you are one of those, please refrain from critiquing the fast until I am done, please? During these seven days I will need to keep motivation up and not get tempted into quitting early. So, if you have any objections, save it for when my seven days are over, please!

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Today, when I woke up, I finally realized. I realized it even before I was entirely out of sleep, I was still only half conscious, but it was as clear as day.

When I fell away from my path, my mind ventured into the darkness of depression, I didn’t just lose touch with my Self – my inner me. I lost touch with the outer me, the physical me too. The connection between the inner me and the outer me broke.

The consequences of this wounded connection has been obvious, I just never understood the reason behind it before. I remember so clearly the first symptom, it took me by surprise.

I started clenching and grinding my teeth in my sleep. Never did that before. But suddenly I would wake up with jaws sore from the strain.

I lost hair. I’ve always had thick, healthy hair, suddenly it was growing thinner.

I stopped remembering my dreams. The dreams, that always had been so immensely important to me.

I suddenly lost all the joy of moving, exercising and being physically active. It seemed so strangely pointless.

I lost all control of my eating.

My menstruation has fucked up, the cycle going completely topsy turvy, and after five years I still have not managed to get pregnant despite there being both eggs and healthy sperm in place.

I found myself absentmindedly biting my lips until they bled, or scratching my scalp until the skin broke.

I lost touch with my sexuality. Physical experiences suddenly gave me, well almost nothing. Only mental stimulation could turn me on, it was as if the physical just didn’t affect me as before. Orgasms became rare.

I found myself physically tense. I marvelled over this just recently in a blog post if you remember, I talked about how strangely my muscles turn tense as soon as I do not actively focus on relaxing that part of my body. It takes only seconds, as soon as I am no longer focusing on relaxing a muscle it immediately turns tense again.

When I was still half asleep this morning, truth dawned on me. The connection between the two sides of me, the physical and the non-physical, is wounded.

As I lay there in bed I tried to start the process of reclaiming my body. Took control of the left big to, felt myself aware in it, told myself that I am there, in that toe. Next toe. Next toe. The rest of the foot, the ankle.

While I slowly, slowly reclaimed my left foot and leg I became aware of the rest of my body straining, ridiculously tense. So I went on. Slowly worked to reclaim the other foot too. Calves. Knees. Thighs. Buttox. Here it started getting trickier. Not as easy keeping control of my feet when my awareness was raisin higher up through my body, my feet wanted to grow tense again as soon as I “left” them.

Slowly, slowly I struggled to go through body part after body part, consciously trying to reclaim my own body. It was hard. This is not a wound I can mend by a quick fix of positive thinking. I need to regrow the connection between body and mind, mend myself.

As I lay there, it dawned on me that my husband had woken up next to me. Still silent but awake, he gently nudged me with a toe. I turned towards him and we kissed. As clear as day could I see, feel, what I had missed. Without having been connected to my own body, I could not appreciate his body either, I could not enjoy his touch. That lack of sexual enjoyment the last few years suddenly made sense.

We kissed slowly, I took my time to taste and enjoy his lips and his tongue, like I used to. The sensation was stunning. He touched me, and I could feel his touch again. I touched him and I felt him, he was really there. 

Still, the wound was not so easily mended. We kissed, we touched, I tasted him, he tasted me, we enjoyed each other. I enjoyed it, experienced it more than I have for several years, but still not quite there yet. I could still feel myself strangely absent from my own body. Feeling the touch but not… quite feeling it. Just like my feet would turn tense as soon as my awareness turned to another body part, the slightest distraction could make me lose touch.

Even though I am not quite there yet, it was intense. I finally saw what I have been missing, with body and mind disconnected. I haven’t been whole. I still am not.

Yes, I am wounded. But I can heal, I must heal. I can not live a half person, a fractured scrap of an individual. Body and mind must become one.

But now I can work on it. I will reclaim my body. I must.

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Hi there! *waves happily*

Just wanted to pop by and say hello, and explain that no, I have not disappeared from this blog. I’m just extremely busy working on our new home. The actual house is standing by now, but we’ve still gots loads of stuff to build and fix. Basically me and hubby work hard all day on the house, and when we come home we’re so tired we just collapse. So you see, blogging has fallen down a peg on the priority list. But I’ll be back!

By the way, I’ve been thinking about something that I’d love to hear your thoughts on. About doing what is right and good for you, or not doing so.

My body seems to prefer so called paleo food. It tastes marvellous, it requires very little effort to prepare, it keeps me full for a much longer time than “regular” meals, plus it makes my tummy really happy.

Going no-poo (=no shampoo!) makes my hair softer, easier to brush and less split-endy. Preparing no-poo alternatives requires minimal effort.

My body likes to be physically active. Not working out makes me fluffy in no time, I gain weight extremely easily.

Why then, have I stopped eating paleo, gone back to using shampoo, and skipped working out for months and months? Seriously, what’s wrong me? I know what makes me happy and healthy, yet as soon as I get a tighter schedule I just stop it. Within a few days I’ve “forgotten” what I should be eating/doing and then it’s very easy to just keep going… *sigh*

Anyone else experiencing the same thing? Is this all about being lazy, or is it a passive expression of self-destructiveness? Any advice on how to think/act to improve?



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I sit down in my bed, trying to quiet the mind after a long day. I open my mind towards the Mother and the Father. On an impulse I also greet the Little Sister, the Moon. And, to my own surprise, Frey also comes to mind.

I greet them but realize that my mind is too cluttered with images and thoughts, I can’t put a sentence together. Neither would I know what to say. I try to relax and clear my mind.

All of the sudden, I get somewhat of an insight. I look down on my pale and flabby body, and feel something different than the usual disgust. I suddenly realize that I must stop being afraid of my body. I must not shy away, but accept it. And use it.

I feel something I have never felt before. I feel myself, the real me, residing within this body. It sounds like such a cliché, but I finally understand that the body really is my temple. It is the home in which my spirit lives.

I look down on my body, my temple. For once I look and see beyond the aesthetic, beyond what’s “sexy” or “pretty”. I see the truth.

I have abused this body. By not using it as it is meant to be used it has grown weak. I eat more than I need and thus I gain more and more fat. My food addiction has made sure of that. I look at my legs and see ugly scabs, that I just can’t seem to stop picking open. I feel a slight itch in my scalp, where I’ve also been scratching open the same little scabs over and over again. I look at my fingertips, where I’ve not only bitten down every nail as far as possible, I’ve also chewed around the nails, leaving tiny wounds and irritated skin.

This body is the home of my spirit, and I really should be taking care of it. How can I expect my spirit to thrive when it’s stuck in a wrecked home? How can I expect to get pregnant, to start new life within my womb, when I haven’t even been taking care of myself?

Even now as I write this, I find it difficult to express what I feel. It all sounds so obvious, but these feelings inside of me are far from it. Suddenly feeling myself residing within… my physical body… it’s strange.

I grab the bottle of lavender oil that sits beside my bed, and start to carefully rub some of it into my skin. I need to heal this body. I need to listen carefully what it needs, and never forget how important it really is. It’s not just a piece of flesh, it’s my home.

Now, I will put down the laptop and once again settle down into meditation before I go to sleep. I just needed to write this down. I can not allow myself to forget what I just realized, must read tomorrow what I wrote tonight and remember.

Love and light to you all



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First of all, I promised I’d tell you about my eco-haircare experiments. Yesterday I picked a bunch of birch leaves and lemon balm, and let it soak in water for a couple of hours. Occasionally I would stir and beat the leaves with a wooden spoon to get the juices flowing. In the end I filtered away the greens and got left with a very pale green liquid that I then used to wash my hair with. I took care to massage my scalp and rinse thoroughly.

And the result? Extremely soft. Clean. Perhaps a fraction more greasy than after a regular shampoo washing, but weirdly it seemed to get better after a couple of hours. This I will definitely do again, and I would definitely recommend it to anyone.

BUT! If you feel like trying to wash your hair with birch leaves or oatmeal (as I told you about in the last post) or stuff like that, you need to know that most usual shampoos will leave substances in your hair that can’t be washed out with just anything. So if you try a natural method and the result is a greasy mess, you need to get yourself a shampoo that can wash out the nasties one last time without leaving any new shit in your hair. After that you should be fine. I’d recommend you google “no poo” and read up on it!


Moving on…

I’ve been sick again, for most of the week.  Hellishly sore throat, a slight fever and yesterday a headache from hell jumped me. Today I feel better, but it’s not over yet.

As you know, this blog is called “my inner path”. So why focus on my physical health? Well, I have a growing suspicion that it’s all connected in a much deeper way than I’ve previously thought.

I get sick ALL the time. I’m struggling with my weight and a serious food addiction. I also have recurring depressions. I can’t seem to get pregnant, though there’s supposedly nothing physically wrong with me or my husband.

I think it’s all connected. I think I need to start paying attention to my day-to-day physical health and note down exactly how it coincides with my state of mind, what I’ve eaten and what’s been going on around me. If I document it, perhaps I can make some sense of it all.  At first I thought I should write it here in this blog, but I realize it will be much more practical to use an excel sheet and keep it short and clear to make a later interpretation easier in the end. I will tell you how it turns out, though!

Love and light




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Lucky me!

As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve had problems with recurring depressions and food addiction. Not really grasping the problem, my regular doctor referred me to a psychiatrist, and today I went for my second visit. Trying to figure out what’s what the shrink went through a bucketload of standard questions, covering everything from “how often do you drink alcohol?” to “have you ever tried to commit suicide?” and “do you ever hear voices that other’s can’t hear?”

Yeah, that’s where I started to think of how to express myself so that she didn’t get the wrong impression of me…  We all know how paranormal and spiritual experiences may be judged by non-believers… Ehm…

Taking a deep breath I decided to be honest, but not go into specifics. One of the questions was “do you feel like there is a greater force that you are somehow a part of?” Good place to start! I said that I am rather spiritual person and I often feel a connection to Nature, for example.

Next question. Had I ever seen things, that others couldn’t see? Ehm, how to say this… I smiled and probably blushed a bit, and said that I’ve seen a ghost, and there have been some other similar experiences as well… spiritual experiences.

She smiled at me and nodded, looked me in the eyes and said that that’s ok, those kind of experiences do not point at a psychological problem.

I was so relieved! I told her then, that I thought the entire question of religous/spiritual experiences contra hallucinations is a tricky one. Her answer was relaxed and encouraging, saying that in a religious/spiritual context it’s not that strange to have such experiences, since it has to do with one’s personal beliefs.

I would like to thank the universe for sending me to such an open minded psychiatrist! I was a bit scared that I’d be wrongly diagnosed with some psychological illness, just because of my spiritual interests, but thankfully she could tell the difference between spiritual experiences and hallucinations. Yes, thank you!

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So I had a really had day yesterday. Or rather, a very good and pleasant day turned into a very bad evening. Ended up crying lika a baby for hours in a weirdo painful semi-anxiety attack. 

I had just finished sewing a pretty grey blouse and I was so happy with the result. The pattern I had made myself, and it fit perfectly. Plus it only took a couple of hour to make.

I had done some housework and enjoyed both the result and the actual work. Plus my hubby worked from home, which is very unusual, which made me so happy.

I was full of energy, creativity and joy. 

Thinking I wanted to take some good pics of the grey blouse I’d made, I got myself generally dolled up with nice make up and pretty dangling earrings, the blouse with a wide belt over it, and a long black skirt. And I dragged hubby outside to take some pics.

We came in again and I downloaded the pics to my computor. 

The pics were horrible. I looked like a stranded whale. Partially one can blame it on hubby, who’s a lousy photographer and doesn’t actually look at the pics he’s taking, so the angles are terribly unflattering and all. But even if you disregard all that, I still looked terrible.

After that I was left with one single thought in my mind: I have to stop thinking I look good, cuz every time I see myself in a photo I get such a shock. I must remember that I look like a fat-ass walrus, never ever think I look pretty, and for fuck’s sake, don’t let anyone see me. I should just go hide in a hole or start wearing a burka so that the world cannot see me. And pity my husband who’s got such an ugly wife.

Great, now I’m crying again. Fuck. 

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