Category: Food Addiction

  • Empowered Food Addiction Recovery in 3 Steps

    The world of food addiction recovery is complex and full of contradictions. The more you understand, the more empowered you become.

    One week I’m reading Geneen Roth, who says all overeating is emotional eating. The next week I’m reading Kathryn Hansen, who says overeating is never about the underlying feelings. For fucks sake gals, get your stories straight!

    You’d be forgiven for just wanting to throw your hands up at the whole thing, give in to that little voice that says this is hopeless and you’ll be addicted for life, and go back to your late night Stream’n’Binge.

    Except you don’t have to! It turns out the recovery world is complex because – wait for it – human being are complex. Who knew??

    I’m here taking a stand for the existence of spectrums and nuance and relativism. I’m here to tell you that what worked for me may or may not work for you, but that doesn’t mean nothing will work for you.

    If you’ve been at this a while, you’ll already have an intuitive sense of which approaches work for you and which don’t.

    Some may have worked for a while but then stopped working, maybe because some other piece was missing to take it to the finish line. Or maybe you do have all the pieces but you’re struggling to put them all together.

    Personal Growth did not bring me Food Addiction Recovery.

    That was me. I’d been doing personal growth work for a couple years when I quit weed and picked up food.

    Food had always been part of my addiction landscape, but because I was smoking so much weed, my appetite was suppressed when I wasn’t high and then raging when I was; so I was blaming the weed for my munchies and not aware that it was its own thing too.

    Undeterred by my eating – possibly driven by it – I kept on the personal growth train. I kept going to workshops and retreats and getting certifications in all the things I thought I needed to learn for my own healing.

    I became an expert on nervous systems and self-regulation. I learned how to connect deeply with other humans and break out from the trap of loneliness and isolation. I learned embodiment and how to be with and describe my somatic experiences. I dabbled in IFS and started to tease out my different parts.

    I did all the things. And still I couldn’t put down the food.

    It made no sense to me! The standard perspective in addiction recovery is that substances are used to cope with challenging life. When you learn how to actually cope with life, you’re supposed to be recovered. Right?

    But it wasn’t working out like that. While I got better and better at self-compassion and not shaming myself for my binges, I didn’t get much better at actually not binging.

    Food Addiction Recovery as Abstinence puts the cart before the horse

    Overeaters Anonymous only made it worse.

    Desperate, I went to OA. I came up with a definition of abstinence that I felt like I could sustain. I still binged on less-junky foods, but at least I was “staying abstinent” because I wasn’t eating my forbidden foods. My sponsor kept trying to get me to do a food plan, but I couldn’t get past my abject horror at even the idea.

    Then I got to Step 9 (amends) and it all fell apart. My sponsor didn’t offer me any emotional support whatsoever in this step, as she had in Step 5 (confession). All she gave me was instructions on how to do it: in person, not over the phone, if possible.

    I had been kinda sorta ok with the idea of writing a letter and sending it off, but when I though I had to actually see these people as I told them what a horrible person I had been? No fucking way.

    In hindsight, that’s the point I realize I had been white-knuckling it the whole time. I’d been fighting my cravings, and one thing all the experts agree on is that fighting cravings does not work.

    The main problem with OA is that it begs the solution. You have to start out with abstinence. Meal plans. Deprivation. The idea is that through working the program, you’re supposed to start being ok with those things. The deprivation is supposed to go away.

    I never made it that far.

    The only reason I was in OA in the first place was because in a moment of desperation, I had gotten down on my knees and prayed for a solution. A voice in my head said “Get a sponsor. Work the steps.” That was my OA story for months after that. It was why I was there: because God told me to.

    I now believe the reason I was called to go through that process was specifically so that I could speak from experience about it, and not because it was ever going to work for me. And I’m not saying it never works – OA was full of people, long-timers, who had serenity around their food, who no longer overate, and who were spiritually fulfilled by working their program.

    And I honestly am happy to know that. I will never shit on anything that works for people. I will only shit on the belief that if it works for some people, then it must work for everyone. Because that’s bullshit.

    Resigned to my dis-ease that isn’t a disease.

    Behaviourally, I resigned myself for the next several months. I stopped waging the day-to-day battles. I was exhausted and I didn’t have any more fight left in me.

    But I was also fucking determined. I wasn’t going to fight, but I wasn’t going to give in either.

    In the midst of my OA trip, I had started an addiction recovery program for therapists. It contradicted so much of the 12 Step philosophy but also seemed evidence based. It was Harm Reduction oriented and taught me a whole lot about self-compassion around my behaviours.

    It also introduced to Marc Lewis’ work on the Learning Model of Addiction. I was still hooked into the OA philosophy at the time, and his model is completely different from theirs, which sent me into a whole existential conundrum about what the hell is addiction anyway?

    I couldn’t rectify these two perspectives and I was dedicated to OA so I set Lewis’ work aside for the time-being. I picked it up again a few months later when it was included in a Holistic Recovery course I was taking. By then, I was clear that OA was not working, and I was much more receptive to his alternative views.

    Reading The Biology of Desire was the first time I actually started to really understand what was happening for me at a neurological level. He does an incredible job of breaking down the brain processes through the trajectory of addictions.

    Knowing you have choice means you're Empowered in your Food Addiction Recovery.

    Realizing I have Choice around my Behaviour

    The gist of Lewis’ work is that addiction is not a disease, but a result of a totally normally functioning brain in its learning process, where the thing it learned happens to be destructive in other areas of your life.

    He maps the history of how people have related to addiction over time. The Disease Model was theoretically an improvement over the Moral Failing model, in that in principle it was supposed to absolve addicts of their moral failings and reframe it as a biological condition.

    The problem is, that’s not how it plays out in society. The average person still looks at drunk homeless dudes as if they’re scum. The average wife still expects her gambler husband to stop if he really loves her. The average binge eater still wakes up with self-blame and shame for all the crap they ate last night.

    As a society, disease model notwithstanding, we still look at addiction as a choice. Even within 12 Steps, which officially subscribes to the disease model, there are all kinds of choices and actions baked in that implicitly expect you to make different choices.

    “Don’t drink and go to meetings” pre-supposes that you already know how not to drink. Any drinker who already knew how to do that wouldn’t be an alcoholic, so there are detox programs where people can’t drink.

    Marc Lewis looks at addiction as a choice too, but not in the same moral-failings way that society does. He champions self-empowerment and the importance of self-understanding in overcoming addiction; that people recover by finding new goals, meaning, and ways of fulfilling their emotional and psychological needs.

    Something happened in me by reading his book where I started to feel empowered to change my behaviour. I started to reclaim my sense of agency and choice. Behaviourally, I immediately started noticing small changes.

    I was still binging, but they weren’t as frantic and dissociative as they used to be. I was kind of watching them from a distance and using all my introspection tools to get a handle on what was happening in me.

    The importance of following your own intuition.

    I could sense this whole thing was finally coming to an end. I don’t know how I knew, I just had this sense that it was on its last legs.

    And then I started reading Geneen Roth’s Breaking Free from Emotional Eating and it set me back a notch. On its surface this book seemed congruent with the work I was doing. It invites overeaters to follow some simple guidelines and to bring more awareness to their eating.

    Two things about this didn’t work for me.

    One was that it’s the same core problem as OA: it puts the cart before the horse; just a different cart and horse.

    Where OA preaches abstinence from foods that trigger overeating, Roth preaches eating literally whatever you want, but only when you’re hungry.

    Damn girl, if I knew how to eat only when I’m hungry, I wouldn’t be in this mess! Adding chips and cake into the mix did not make it easier for me to stop eating when I was full!

    Nonetheless, I gave it the old college try. But my binging urges got worse, and importantly, the foods I was binging on was getting much worse. While I could eat a single bowl of chips for lunch, having that bag of chips in the house made it inevitable that I would crave it all evening.

    My own intuition tells me that having junk food in the house is not the right choice for me. It’s too tempting and sets me up for cravings late at night.

    I still related to my cravings as a battle and I lost every time.

    A woman Empowered for Food Addiction Recovery

    The Hope of Empowerment

    The only reason I was reading Roth’s book was that I had read her other book Women Food and God during my OA days, when a temporary AA sponsor had loaned me a copy after hearing about my food struggles. At the time, it felt really good to bring surrender to a higher power so directly into my food journey.

    I realize now, that what felt so good was to stop feeling the burden of responsibility. All I had to do was stay spiritually fit, and then whatever happened with my food was beyond my control. After wrestling control with my addiction for so long, that was a huge relief.

    I don’t feel like that now.

    While it’s not the intention of the program, the result of Step 1’s admission that I’m powerless over food actually let my addiction trick me into thinking I don’t have to be responsible for my eating. It turned my felt sense of powerlessness into a choice to be powerless.

    Big difference!

    Feeling powerless is not the same thing as being powerless. Empowerment is possible for everyone, when you find the right leverage point for your personal makeup, personality, and stage of addiction development or recovery.

    Empowerment looks like different things at different stages of recovery.

    My first stage of my own empowerment was self-compassion. I could choose to stop shaming myself for eating too much. No doubt that came easily enough because I had done a lot of work with my inner critic and it no longer held court.

    Next stage of my empowerment was believing I do have the innate capacity to make different choices. That doesn’t mean I immediately knew how to make those choices; but it was tremendously relieving and supportive just to think that was a possibility.

    From that place, I was empowered to think differently about my addiction. I made the choice to believe it was on its last legs. That already started to deflate its own power over me.

    Emotional Eating is not the right framework for any more.

    Right before it got worse, I was actually feeling better. I felt close enough to recovery that I could start building a business in food addiction recovery. I threw myself into creating content, leading to late late nights and letting my hunger build to ravenous proportions. I think it’s that ravenous hunger that actually set off my binge habit again.

    In my research for this work, I stumbled upon Hansen’s Brain over Binge in a Reddit post. I have a longer review of this book, so I’ll be brief here.

    Her main thesis is that binge eating is never about some deeper, psychological reason. It’s not a coping mechanism for difficult emotions or an overwhelming life.

    I’m sorry Kathryn, but you’re full of shit.

    To say that emotional eating is never a thing is blatantly stupid.

    In her biography, she explains why emotional eating wasn’t the root cause of her bingeing. But then commits the fallacy of generalizing her personal experience to all people with the same behavioural outcome. And that’s just terrible science!

    And yet…

    I could resonate in part with her perspective.

    While I maintain that there was a time where what I needed was absolutely to learn how to be an emotionally mature adult, it’s also true that doing that didn’t spontaneously grace me with food addiction recovery.

    Having done all the deep emotional healing work and getting myself to a place where I love feeling my feelings, can easily ground myself and regulate my nervous system in challenging life situations, and have a strong support network of friends…

    I was baffled by why my food addiction was still a thing. There was something really resonant about the idea that all I needed to recover from binge eating was to stop binge eating.

    Like duh. Why didn’t I think of that?

    Food Addiction Recovery through Mindfulness

    What’s different from the white knuckling I had done before was the way to relate to urges (i.e. cravings). Based on Jack Trimpey’s book Rational Recovery, she proposes a method of quitting binge eating by disengaging with the addictive voice that’s rooted in the limbic system, and dismissing it as “neurological junk”.

    On the surface, this is a minor change in perspective. But it’s revolutionary to how I was relating to my bingeing.

    I knew from experience that fighting my cravings did not work. It was exhausting when I won and disheartening when I didn’t.

    I knew from my experiment with Roth’s work that following my food cravings increased my cravings to where fighting them wasn’t even an option.

    But what I had not tried was the same strategy I use with big feelings: detachment. I had learned to allow big emotions to move through my body and watch them from a distance, not getting caught up in them. Not fighting them but not letting them take over either.

    And because I had done so much legwork in recovery, healing, and mindfulness, it was actually really easy for me to flip this switch with my cravings.

    Your mileage may vary. I say this not to scare you but to prepare you. If you’re already good at mindfulness, you might be able to flip that switch like I did. Or you might need help learning mindfulness as it relates to food cravings. Either way, I’m here to help you walk the path.

    Didn’t you say something about 3 Steps?

    I did. They’re in there, but not obviously, so let’s spell that out…

    1. Figure out the root cause of your Food Addiction
      • Did your bingeing behaviours begin in response to extreme dieting?
      • Did your overeating start as a way to cope with overwhelming feelings?
      • Did you start eating out of boredom and loneliness?
      • Have you always had a sweet tooth, and binge eating is the natural progression of a biologically based dependence of refined sugar? Or a salt tooth with potato chips?
    2. Address the root cause of your Food Addiction
      • Do you need to learn to eat regular, filling meals before you’re ravenous?
      • Do you need to learn emotional regulation?
      • Do you need to create more fun in your life and a supportive network of great people?
      • Do you need to cut refined sugar from your diet by replacing it with healthier sweets like fruits and dates? Or replace chips with toasted tortilla triangles and whole food crackers?
    3. Use mindfulness to address the causal link between cravings and bingeing.
      • By now you’ve gotten yourself to where the only thing holding you back from food addiction recovery is the habit of giving in to food or binge cravings.
      • You’ve realized that fighting your cravings doesn’t work; that exploring them on equal footing to your True Self only validates them, and giving in to them only bolsters their army.
      • Now you can make the subtle but powerful pivot of relating to your cravings from your impassionate witness

    For some of you, this mindfulness approach will be revolutionary and easy.

    For others, it will take some work to learn about mindfulness and to lay the groundwork for mindfulness to feel safe and accessible.

    For example, mindfulness isn’t accessible when your nervous system is freaking out. Or a lonely and totally unfulfilling might just be too much to bear when you’re alone in your apartment at night.

    The good news is that you don’t have to do this alone.

    I’m a certified Relateful Coach and I specialize in guiding women through Food Addiction Recovery using a holistic approach that first addresses the root causes of your particular addiction, and then guides you through the final steps of actually changing your behaviour.

  • Review of Brain over Binge

    In my research for this work, I stumbled upon Kathryn Hansen’s Brain over Binge in a Reddit post.

    Her main thesis is that binge eating is never about some deeper, psychological reason. It’s not a coping mechanism for difficult emotions or an overwhelming life.

    I’m sorry Kathryn, but you’re full of shit. There’s this little thing called Relativism… it can be summarized as “different strokes for different folks”. What’s good for the goose isn’t always good for the gander.

    I’ve got a longer review of Brain over Binge <here> because this really was the book that turned the corner for me and there’s are a ton of problems with that book.

    I know without question that when I was stressed about my Step 9, I turned to junk food to soothe my anxiety and fear about being exposed.

    I know without question that when I quit using weed during the pandemic and I was living with an vegan older woman who had no emotional capacity, I turned to junk food to soothe my loneliness.

    To say that emotional eating is never a thing is blatantly stupid. In her reflection, it wasn’t a thing for her and a therapeutic approach of dealing with her underlying issues in order to dislodge her bulimia was not the right approach. The binges that started her bulimia were induced by her anorexia which was induced by extreme dieting.

    She lumps bulimia and binge eating disorder into the same pot, while barely spending 3 short paragraphs on the causes of BED. She admits that BED often isn’t induced by dieting, but then dismisses that fact in the rest of her book.

    And yet…

    There was something really resonant about the idea that all I needed to recover from binge eating was to stop binge eating.

    Like duh. Why didn’t I think of that?

    What’s different from the white knuckling I had done before was the way to relate to urges (i.e. cravings). Based on Jack Trimpey’s book Rational Recovery, she proposes a method of quitting binge eating by disengaging with the “Addictive Voice”.

    The technique is basically Mindfulness applied to addictive cravings. This technique has been successful in treating OCD, with brain imaging scans to support the claim that it creates real neurological changes in the regions of the brain responsible for impulse control.

    More to Come…

    I’m still reading the book and I have tons of notes on my Kindle. I just needed this page to link to in my other post, so I’m putting down what I have so far. I’m going to feel really silly if anyone reads this before I actually finish the book!!

  • Self-love in Food Addiction

    Confused about my purpose

    Buddhists talk about the second arrow. The first arrow is the shit that happens to you in your life, and the second arrow is the “woe is me” some people indulge when that shit happens. I think there’s a third arrow too. It’s the one where you beat yourself up because you won’t stop stabbing yourself with the second arrow. The third arrow is self-hatred.

    I’ve been drawn to coaching for the past 7 years. I love connecting with people, I’m an incredible listener and I’m insightful. I took coaching courses and learned the tools to help people uncover their inner workings and find the leverage points where they could have more agency and choice in their lives. When I went to start a coaching business, every resource said “find a niche, find a niche”. “Your deepest wound is your truest niche” says Tad Hargrave.

    Well, my deepest wound is my binge eating. I was in a window of micro-recovery so I felt some competency around it, and it was definitely something there was a market for. So I got started building “Food Freedom Recovery”. But as that progressed, I found myself back in the thick of it. My insecurity crept in because I knew I didn’t have a real hold on this food thing yet.

    It wasn’t so much that I had imposter syndrome (a feeling I was more than familiar with from my grad school days); it’s that I was recognizing the truth that I really wasn’t any kind of expert in actually achieving recovery; I was an expert in seeking recovery.

    I’ve had days, even weeks, sometimes a few months, of drastically changing my food behaviours. Each time, I felt like I had cracked the nut and that phase of my life was well and truly over. And then something would happen and the binges would creep in again.

    The food addiction industry is insane

    When I was trying to find exactly what my message would be around food recovery, it dawned on me that the whole time, I had still been obsessed with food. If I wasn’t obsessed with what to eat – or what not to eat – then I was obsessed with building a food recovery business, or creating food recovery content, or reading food recovery books.

    If I wasn’t consumed by my consumption, I was consumed by my recovery.

    Each guru claims to have cracked the nut and have the answer; and yet so many of them are in direct contradiction to one another. Abstain from sugar. Deprivation causes binging. You’re eating to solve emotional problems. It’s just a biophysical process. Eat intuitively. Don’t trust yourself, trust God. OA. Smart Recovery. Eating disorder clinics. Whole food clinics. Rational modalities. Spiritual modalities. Emotional modalities. Psychological modalities.

    My god, it’s enough to drive anyone mad.

    A month in an eating disorder clinic convinced me that restricting food groups is the thing that causes binging. Sugar addiction professionals claim that giving up sugar removes cravings. Today I know they’re both right and neither is right for everyone.

    My relationship to food became a prominent thing in 2016, when I had my whole food plant based phase. Before then I had dabbled with the occasional “new lifestyle” (because I had received the message that “dieting is bad”) and my weight had fluctuated up and down about 20-30lbs since adolescence. But with this WFPB thing, I’d found the holy grail to health and wellness. I became obsessed. A total religious zealot. The obnoxious vegan trope up to the hilt.

    At the time I thought I was so healthy and that my weight struggles were over. And then it all came crashing down at a Halloween party where one “I’ve done really well, one little treat won’t kill me” vegan Oreo cheesecake turned into 12 and over the next few weeks, I was back to where I had started – living on fried food and ice cream.

    For a long time, I still looked at those as my glory days with food. I was convinced that if I could just get back to that healthy diet, I could put this thing behind me and focus on more important issues like meaning and purpose and community.

    My food relationship became obsessive about 4 years ago when I got sober from weed. When I was ready to quit weed, I just quit.

    I didn’t go to therapy. I went to some 12 steps meetings but I didn’t take it seriously. I had been hating the experience of getting high more and more for the past couple years.

    My last stand with weed was in an environment where I had an alternative to getting high. It dawned on me that what I wanted was connection, not weed. I reached out to a friend, we went for a walk, and the craving passed. By the end of that program (I was at yet another transformational retreat), I was just ready to let it go. I never seriously craved it again after that, and I didn’t obsess about it or even think about it at all unless I smelled it, and then I mostly noticed my surprise that I hadn’t thought of it in months and relief that I had no desire to partake.

    I keep waiting for that to happen with binging. I do feel like I’m getting closer every time I get a little bit of space from it. But as to what the magic secret is for recovery? Today, I’m more confused than ever.

    My superpower is loving myself enough to keep on trying

    And yet through all that, I realized something really important. I was no longer beating myself up for not having a handle on my binging.

    This morning, lying in bed, I realized what makes me different from many other people on this food recovery journey. My gift isn’t that I’ve figured out this food thing and that I can help you stop binging too. I don’t know if I can. Food is one of our most sacred, complicated, enmeshed relationships. It’s woven into the fabric of our cultures, our families, our friendships, our whole lives. It’s the one substance you can’t completely quit. Everyone has their own history with food and restriction and binging. For some it’s emotional. For others it’s physical. Because of that, there are hundreds of approaches to food recovery.

    As I sit here this morning, having leapt out of bed struck by the muse, I realized something. I don’t have this food thing figured out. I’m still hopeful that I will. I’m still working really really hard at it. But I’m no recovery expert. It’s ludicrous and inauthentic for me to sit here and pretend I am.

    But I realized something else. I’ve learned to love myself despite all that. I binged on junk food last night, drove to the convenience store for chips and then ate all the Christmas baking I had taken home from the community dinner on Sunday. Then I roasted some almonds and ate those too. I went to bed feeling sick and still have a food hangover as I write.

    And yet despite all that, I don’t feel ashamed. I don’t feel like a piece of shit. I’m meeting myself with love and compassion.

    I do feel sad and a bit bummed out that this is still a thing. But I’m not blaming myself for it anymore. I’m not seeing myself as weak and powerless and hopeless. I’m seeing myself as a tender human being who’s working through one of the trickiest things a person can work through. I’m seeing myself as someone who’s deserving of love and compassion and patience.

    I now have understanding that this food thing is fucking hard. It’s complicated. It’s complex. It’s not one-size-fits-all (no matter what each of the gurus tries to claim). It’s biological. It’s social. It’s emotional. It’s psychological. There’s a trillion dollar industry committed to keeping us hooked, and that’s a hard thing to fight against. Maybe fighting isn’t the answer. Maybe it is. I still don’t know.

    But what I do know is that I am worthy of love. I am not a bad person just because I can’t figure out how to stop binging. I am worthy of self-compassion, of connection. I am a child of the universe just doing the damned best she can.

    Bashar said that being born on Earth is like going to grad school. It’s a hard curriculum down here. When I heard that, I thought “Cool! I loved grad school!” But then, I didn’t have the typical grad school experience. I had an incredible research group, I was good at the whole game of school and research, I got to travel all over the world, and I was married to a workaholic who was more than happy to pay my expenses while I lived my best life.

    It doesn’t feel like that any more. I’m addicted to junk food, my life sometimes feels empty, I get lonely even though I have some amazing friends. This grad school curriculum is hard and I don’t feel competent at it all.

    And yet, I still love myself. And where is food is concerned, I’m going to keep on trying until I get there.

    I’m an expert in learning to love myself

    I should state for the record, that wasn’t always the case. It was 2022 when I realized I hated myself. It took that long because my inner critic is subtle and manipulative. She doesn’t say “You’re a piece of shit.” She just subtly tsk-tsks every decision I make as ever-so-slightly inadequate. In 2022, I was in a convenience store in Austin TX buying chips, I got out to my car and felt helpless, hopeless, and full of self-loathing and shame.

    It dawned on me in that moment… “I think I hate myself.” It was a realization that really caught me by surprise. I had been so identified with my inner critic that I was never actually hearing it speak, until that moment. I was in the middle of a Relateful immersion, and that 9-month training had really been teaching me about self-awareness and honesty.

    So I brought that to my Level Up coach, who turned out to have known a thing or two about self-hatred herself, but who no longer felt that way. We spent months working through the beliefs I had about myself, and gradually it came together. I won’t claim that my self-hatred just vanished in the space of a few months. But what did happen was that I finally saw it clearly and could start to work with it.

    I learned some other tools for engaging it instead of pushing it away, and gradually as it began to feel heard and not dismissed, it began to soften. It got to take on a more loving role where it could express the care and concern it had always felt for me, in a gentler softer way. It learned how to say what it really felt, because I learned to let it speak.

    In the last couple years, I catch myself having the sweetest responses to my painful feelings. “Oh sweety, I know you’re hurting. That’s ok. I still love you.”

    I still struggle with food. I still hope and pray that one day, I’ll feel qualified to write the book where I give an overview of all the different approaches to food recovery and help people uncover which ones feel right to them and which ones make them want to puke. I have so many ideas about that book, but it’s not ready to be written yet.

    And that’s ok, because I know that in the meantime, what I’m really good at is loving people up and helping them see that their ashamed parts are just as lovable as their celebrated parts. And I’m good at helping people unravel the binds that are holding them back from loving themselves.

    I don’t know for sure if loving myself is a pre-requisite for recovering from food addiction, but I do know that it makes the whole experience an order of magnitude less sufferable. The physical discomfort and mental confusion are bad enough without shame and self-hatred in the mix.