Shame, secrets & dust motes in the air.

At OA this morning–yes I went to OA again today, which is pretty friggin amazing for me–there was a woman talking about how she has sometimes felt bad in meetings about not being thin–like it was a sign of how little recovery she had. Like the outside is an accurate reflection of what’s going on inside. I spoke to her afterwards (I know…another unbelievable thing for me to do…) and told her about how I’d often felt that way in OA too. Then I told her about having Duodenal Switch surgery 3 years ago and losing all the weight and how I look much better on the outside now, but inside I have the same struggles with food that I always did. I still use food to feed my shame, to dampen the noise of my feelings, I use out of boredom and fear and to substitute for human contact. It’s more clear to me now than ever how screwed up I am about food, but now I can keep it more of a secret because it doesn’t show on the outside.

I’m sitting in the living room and my 14 year old daughter just sat down at the piano and started doing a song my husband and I wrote for her. She’s so beautiful, she sings so well–it’s amazing to me. I have so much good in my life, so much grace and loveliness and love. And yet…this food compulsion…it kicks my ass every day. Maybe that’s the point. To keep me numb and isolated, to keep me from feeling anything but shame and sadness, to keep me far away from the joy. It makes me think of the quote by William Blake: “And we are put on earth a little space, that we may learn to bear the beams of love.”  That is the most difficult thing of all for me, to bear the grace and love that’s in the air all around me, like dust motes, sparkling in the sun.