This post will contain descriptions of disordered eating. If that’s not something you can read about, please check out my previous post on perfectionism or skip to the eating meditation or housekeeping announcements.
If I were to flip back through my notebook and read my check-ins at the start of most pet sitting visits, I would find a recurring pattern. Settling into a non-home environment (or at least an environment that isn’t MY home) and being faced with a giant swathe of unstructured time, I panic. I get seized by my own anxiety, and I almost always react by trying to eat it away. No matter how many times I experience it, I haven’t broken free of this reflex, and I usually lose some sleep to heartburn.
I wrote about a powerful negative sensation in my last post, and I’ve started working with an image I like to call the Carousel of NO. I envision my anxiety (and my mind) freewheeling as a carousel spinning so fast that its details are a blur; this is the BIG feeling of “don’t wanna” that stops me from reaching for tools that can help me move forward. Once I find my way to a tool that helps me slow down the carousel, slow down my mind, I can finally see the horses and carriages, the details that make up this big NO.
There is always one or more thoughts behind the sensation, and like the name magic I found so compelling in the fantasy books of my youth, naming the thought allows me some control over it. It’s usually some worry over how well I’ll sleep in someone else’s bed, or fear of something happening to one of my animal charges while their person is away. Things I can’t control.
What I can control is getting to the point of understanding the thought behind the sensation. Here is a list that figures in my journal, as a reminder of how I can slow the carousel and count the horses:
- Journaling about a couple of tarot cards
- A couple minutes of deep belly (hara) breathing
- Holding a restorative pose (like legs up on a sofa or chair) as long as it feels good
I like to opt for the simplest version of a thing: I’m not forcing myself to journal for several minutes or pages; I’m not obliging a full breathing meditation; I’m not jumping into a full yoga sequence. Small beginnings can easily lead to longer exercises if that feels right in the moment, and keeping the goal to a “first step” makes it more inviting and more likely that I will get out of the loop of negative sensation.
Because what happens when I get stuck in that loop is an unsettling experience where I dissociate while hoovering my chosen snack into my mouth. There is no taste, there is no enjoyment, and since my snack of choice is often chips, there is frequently discomfort from their points stabbing into my soft palate. It literally feels as if I black out for a few minutes and a full bag has become empty, meaning I’ve spent money on something and all I get is bad body feelings and inevitable guilt.
I have a lot of reading to do on binge eating, but my next book of study will be THE book on intuitive eating by Evelyn Tribole and Elyse Resch. It has been mentioned in many of the podcasts I’ve listened to, and I have spent a great deal of time actively practicing listening to my body and hunger cues to guide my eating. (A thought I aim for when my anxiety is spiraling is, “Am I hungry or just worried/bored/etc.?”)
In addition to the anxiety caused by being out of my home environment for a few days, I find it a challenge to remember to eat lunch. Breakfast is easy, then I get pulled into work or a creative project or leisure, and hyperfocus makes my body cues feel distant and too quiet to notice. By the time I finally hear my hunger, it may have risen to ravenous proportions, and the likelihood of a binge is equally high. I’ve heard this discussed in fat liberation podcasts as “deprive and devour” and it made me feel so seen to hear this cycle described.
I briefly touched on feelings of guilt: it feels awful to have less money, fewer snacks, and more discomfort and sleep deprivation. My tendency is to want to blame myself; after all, no one forced me to eat above and beyond my hunger. However, placing blame doesn’t help with this challenge; it can exacerbate it by adding to the anxiety spiral with a thought like, “What if I fuck up again and end up with heartburn?” It lays the ground for a self-fulfilling prophecy and makes it harder to reach for my toolbox.
Actively practicing grace and kindness with myself is a much better avenue. Tracing back my day to understand how I ended up bingeing can be instructional if I can keep guilt out of the equation. The last time heartburn kept me from sleeping, I got out of bed at 4:00am and crocheted until my mind quieted down, and until being horizontal was once again comfortable. (As I write this, I’m making a note to travel with antacids next time; not as preparation for an inevitability, but as a kindness in case it’s needed.)
Preparation can help, even something like having antacids in case of heartburn. I like to think of stacking the deck in my favour and identifying ways I can do so, like choosing a smaller format for snacks, or taking the time to fill a bowl and take it out of the kitchen before enjoying a treat. When I have the energy, an eating meditation can give me the space to accept my thoughts as they come instead of letting them overwhelm me as menacing sensations.
An eating meditation
Get comfortable in your seat with your chosen meal or snack nearby (this works great at a dinner table).
Look at your food. Notice its colours and textures. If it’s hot, do you see steam rising from it? Take in what is appealing about the food and its presentation.
Smell your food. Notice and scents naturally wafting up to your nose. Lean in and see what additional aromas you can detect. Do any make your mouth begin to water?
Take your first bite. Appreciate the texture and how your teeth change it, notice any crumble or crunch and identify what you enjoy. Taste it as it moves over your tongue toward the back of your mouth. Swallow.
Continue by giving each bite its moment, chewing thoroughly to aid digestion and peristalsis, and swallowing.
Take in each thought as it arises, note it, and then send it on to your stomach for the heavy mechanical work of digestion.
Keep this up for a few minutes, or for the duration of your meal or snack if it feels good. Note down any powerful or intriguing thoughts you had during the meditation in a journal or safe place. Let the back of your mind digest them as your stomach digests your food, and return to them if and when you feel called to.
Housekeeping
I am pleased to announce that I’m working as a massage therapist in the Concordia School of Health’s athletic therapy clinic! You can book a massage with me on Wednesdays (12:00pm to 9:00pm) or Saturdays (9:00am to 5:00pm) at the Loyola Campus’s PERFORM Centre, 60 minutes for $80+tax or 90 minutes for $100+tax (discounted rates available for Concordia students). These rates are set by Concordia and the promo codes I announce here will only be available for Cavendish and Meta 1111/Queen Mary appointments.
The building is accessible and the clinic can be reached by elevator. You can book your appointment online here (please note I am only offering table massage at this location; for shiatsu, choose the Cavendish location).
This means I will no longer be available for Cavendish and Queen Mary appointments on Wednesdays, but I remain available on Sundays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays at my usual schedule.
I will have pet sitting dates to announce next month, but March is open! Take a look at my calendar and reserve your time to connect to your body and relax.
