As you might guess, Little Miss Picky is quite a food
critic. She is extremely opinionated also, at ease with passing judgment on
every morsel to pass my lips. To make matters worse, she has a photographic
memory and provides me with vivid images of the less than stellar food choices in
my past. She seems to delight in reminding me of those many nights, too many to
count, spent on the couch with a comforting bowl of macaroni, butter and cheese.
Or the endless broken promises, the times I swore that I would eat just a few
potato chips, only to realize later that I had eaten the whole bag in a
salt-induced frenzy. Even when I’ve done well by any objective standard, eaten in
a way that is low-fat and chock full of fresh fruits and vegetables, even then my
inner nag won’t shut up. She points out that the piece of grilled chicken I ate
today was a bit large, wasn’t it? Was there
a piece of skin left on it? You do know how much fat is in chicken skin, don’t you?
It’s enough to drive a girl insane.
This is the main reason that I am skeptical about whether
mindful eating could work for me. I’m afraid it might be playing right into Little
Miss Picky’s hands. I can picture it, my new health-conscious self trying to
get in touch with nascent cravings for leafy salads dressed with lemon vinaigrette,
when the old finger-wagger butts in and says, “You really think you crave salad?
Ha! That’ll be the day!” And then, after she finishes humiliating me, she turns
on the charm, cooing softly in my ear, “Don’t feel bad honey. Just have a big square
of that nice, gooey, cheesy lasagna.” Yes, she does seem a bit bi-polar at
times.
Before I started losing weight, I thought the change was all
about my body, but I’ve discovered it’s really been more about my head. Even
though establishing new diet and exercise habits has been hard, it’s been a
cinch compared to establishing new beliefs and attitudes about food. And so
far, I haven’t silenced Little Miss Picky, I’ve just become more adept at ignoring
her. I look forward to that day when she gets tired of being snubbed and
decides to go torture someone else.
By the way, Little Miss Picky has a comment on this post. She says
she can’t leave because she’s not really a voice in my head, but a part of me
that I refuse to recognize. Oh boy, she’s pretty devious, isn’t she?
Is that anxiety/fear related or self image or what do you think?
ReplyDeleteI'm sure it has a lot to do with fear, but I'm not sure where the fear comes from. I just know this voice has been my constant companion for as long as I can remember.
DeleteI may have told you this before, because I remember it and repeat it to myself regularly. My therapist said when she started her practice (long ago) she did not know this. But looking back EVERY patient she has ever had (eating disorders therapist) had anxiety issues. And anxiety ALWAYS comes from fear. So, she is saying at the heart of the issue, for every patient she has ever had, was FEAR.
DeleteHi Sandy,
ReplyDeleteAt the risk of offering help that wasn't asked for, I wonder if you've ever looked at anything like this--a workbook that I made myself go through, When I finally pinned down the source of why I used food to cope, it really seemed to change that dynamic for me. Its not that I never get anxious and want to eat food. More that I recognize that fact immediately and so it has lost its power over me.
http://www.amazon.com/You-Use-Food-Cope-Comprehensive/dp/0595212808/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1328631789&sr=8-1
I will have to check that out.
Delete