Showing posts with label Black/white thinking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Black/white thinking. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Half full? What perspective has to do with recovery

It took me years to grasp this not-so-deep expression.  Rather than focusing on the full vs. empty, I'd get stuck with the half partSo while viewing a cup as half empty suggests looking at what's missing, and seeing it as half full connotes a positive outlook, I simply couldn't see it. The half empty description seemed rather positive to me. I mean, at least it's only 1/2 missing! I'm not sure I ever really contemplated half full—as in "it's just not good enough".

Take a look at the image to the right. What do you see?

And when you look at your body? 

Do you focus on all that's good about it, or get fixated on those parts that disgust you?

When you reflect on your eating yesterday do you highlight where you slipped, or acknowledge what was in place?

When you consider how you've eaten over the past week, do you recognize your mindfulness or your balance? Or can’t you get past where your eating, activity or behaviors were less than stellar?

Oh, and about that image above—did you note the black dot, a blemish of sorts? Or did you notice the full screen of white, of possibility?

Gratitude

Why would you take care of a body you despise—one you view as too fat, or weak, or unattractive? Why adequately nourish it, lovingly stretch it, gently exercise it? And why would you keep pushing for change if you can not appreciate the benefits of your efforts?

What if you woke up every morning with appreciation that you were still breathing, that you had the gift of another day? And what if you noted that, beyond the aches and pains, most systems functioned quite well? I know, I know—this maynot be the case for some of you. Persistent tinnitus (that high-pitched ringing in your ears), chronic hip pain, or knee or backaches, problems digesting or sleeping—these are nothing to be thankful for.

A patient of mine just told me about a buddy of his who's an avid hiker. He climbed all 48 4,000 footers in New Hampshire—an impressive feat, I'll tell you, as someone who knows those trails well; they're steep, rugged, filled with loose rock. It's certainly motivating, though, when rewarded with the stunning panoramas when we hit the peaks.

The only thing is, that successful hiker? He's blind, and hikes with a guide dog. Somehow I suspect he doesn't wake up and dwell on his lack of vision.

I really don't know. I am quite fortunate to have a body which functions at 100%, at least for now.

Do we need to experience the threat of loss of function to appreciate that our body works? Must we starve, or fast, to appreciate food? Can't we appreciate the power we have to change our reality, to shift our perspective?

Shift your thoughts


  • Perhaps you purged this week, but only once or twice—per week, that is, versus per day.
  • Perhaps you exercised, a goal you set for yourself, for 10-15 minutes per session—less than you intended, but more than you had managed to do in the recent months.
  • Perhaps you overate, but stopped yourself much sooner than you usually do, preventing an all out binge.
  • Perhaps you ate cookies, or cupcakes, but in reasonable portions, and perhaps you allowed yourself to finally taste them and thoroughly enjoy them. Imagine that!
  • Perhaps you are beginning to give yourself credit for some positive actions you are taking—just not all the time. 
  • Perhaps you can begin by identifying 2-3 positives each day, while getting ready for bed or when getting dressed in the morning.

Your intake, activity, or behaviors may be far from perfect, but perhaps you’re still moving forward. The work may not be done.

Maybe things aren’t so great. But have you lost the ability to create a positive shift, to see the white space?

Perhaps, it’s only half empty.

My gratitude to Rabbi Leslie Gordon and Rabbi Barry Starr for their recent words which inspired this post.

Consider these other posts on this topic:




Friday, May 31, 2013

Name-calling Has Its Place: BED is Now Named as a Distinct Eating Disorder. So what’s in it for you?


What’s in a name?


Perhaps it sounds like an existential question, but if it doesn’t have a name, does it even exist? Labeling Binge Eating Disorder (BED) what it is—a painful struggle living with frequent overeating large amounts of food—makes real the impact on mood, thoughts, energy level, physical wellbeing and hopelessness, to name a few. 
Living with Binge Eating Disorder when it was not yet recognized as a diagnosis, you might not have felt sick enough or eligible to be treated, because it just wasn’t taken seriously enough by those around you. 

Being added as a condition all its own validates this not-uncommon eating disorder whose sufferers live with their secret relationship with food, silently and ashamed.

Like adulterers you may sneak around family members and friends consuming large quantities of food—rarely lean protein or vegetables, I’ll add—but typically those foods and nutrients deemed forbidden. Yes, adulterers, as you carry on a relationship you may fail to acknowledge, cheating only yourself.

You eat quickly, masking the empty packages for fear of the response. “Who finished the cookies?” you dread hearing. You may eat salads or nothing at all in the workplace or with others, then stop at the convenience store or the fast food drive in and eat more than a day’s worth of calories, before even getting home. And then perhaps eat dinner as if nothing had ever happened. There may be a short-lived thrill preceding the binge, but a lingering guilt-filled regret to follow.


I should be mindfully eating? 


Binge eaters rarely taste their food, nor do they enjoy it mindfully—from the accounts of my patients over the past 26 years. They eat cakes and cookies and ice cream, but they don’t consume them with permission—their own permission, that is. They may be quite unaware of what and how much they have eaten. And although there are exceptions, they rarely truly enjoy what they are binging on—although the experience may be quite pleasurable—in the short-term. Friday’s new patient diagnosed with BED would never come in for a follow up—that much was certain—if I dared to suggest he’d have to give up his nightly, longed for ritual of binge eating. Yes, making change takes time—and hard work.


Why oh why do I do this?


You may find yourself eating impulsively, wondering why, even though you know better, you can’t follow through with your intended control over food. 

Let’s start with one basic fact. You are not stupid. It is not for lack of knowledge that you maintain your binge eating pattern, but likely because it meets some needs.  It may temporarily numb you, a drug of choice for some, or may help manage your anxiety. Or it may be triggered by impulsivity, even greater in those who get too hungry and those who struggle with impulse control—like those with ADHD. Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not endorsing binge eating to meet your needs. Rather, hopefully providing some insight so you can begin to move from the place you are stuck.

Binge eating typically, although not always, follows deprivation and food restriction. Ever notice that your binging is worse after dieting or fearing you will be without food? 

Thoughts like “I’ve already blown it so I may as well keep going”, what I call the what the heck effect, adds flames to the fire, contributing to continued overeating. Or you may preplan a binge—a very much-controlled binge, counter to the uncontrolled binges often described.


“What’s your point?”


I just sent a family member a link to a popular press article about a parallel situation- trichotillomania (compulsive hair pulling) is also now added to the new DSM-5, the mental health manual of diagnoses. In response to the link, the trich sufferer responded, “So what’s your point?” So let me clarify for all. The point is, if you are described in these posts, then you deserve to have your condition acknowledged and treated. And that includes getting support from a mental health professional (one who’s trained in CBT, Cognitive Behavioral Therapy). And for BED sufferers, adding a Registered Dietitian who specializes in eating disorders is essential as well.
It takes time to shift your eating pattern and your thoughts, and to find alternative ways to manage things that cause distress, but recovery is possible. 

How do you change and move from being a binge eater? Five areas tend to need to be addressed. You’ll need to:


  1. Eat enough calories throughout the day. Guidance from an RD can be quite helpful here.
  2. Watch your eating pattern to avoid long periods without eating. Excessive hunger leads to excessive intake. Think about a pendulum; swinging to one extreme results in an equal swing in the opposite direction. We are looking to be swinging in a much more narrow range!
  3. Move toward mindful eating. Start by separating eating from distractions, such as TV, reading, computer, driving, phone use. Keep food in the kitchen or dining room only. And try to use your senses when eating. Yes, you deserve to experience and taste what you eat.
  4. Once you are preventing excessive hunger and mindfully eating, it’s time to reintroduce foods you view as ‘forbidden’. Remember that if you are listening to your hunger and eating when you need the fuel, you are no worse off for choosing something you really enjoy eating—be it ice cream or chocolate chip cookies. But keep in mind that while you’re working on liberalizing your ‘forbidden’ foods, work on…
  5. Distinguishing physical hunger from emotional eating triggers, such as stress, reward, depression, anxiety, the need for self-punishment.


Now that it is a recognized condition, it’s my hope that MDs will no longer direct their overweight patients for lap band or gastric bypass surgery, never inquiring about or addressing the underlying problem behaviors. Perhaps the medical community will also begin to distinguish those who are overweight yet healthy—yes, they do co-exist—from those that are struggling with their thoughts and behaviors.

What I like most about this new diagnosis it that it puts the focus on your behavior, not your body weight. Now let’s hope that the medical community begins to ask the questions to open discussion about eating behaviors so that you and others can get the support and direction you need to recover.

Check out these older posts on binge eating and related themes:

Many more posts on the subject can be found by clicking on the relevant labels on the right of the blog.
I'd love to hear from you! Thanks for reading.


Friday, March 29, 2013

Here’s to a Speedy Recovery? Not So Fast!


Alan came in yesterday and he put it right out there. “I was really disappointed with our visit last month.”, he shared. “I expected to lose more that the 6 pounds given all the work I had done”. More than a pound per week achieved through his modest dietary changes and his move from a sedentary activity level wasn’t enough. Sure he was feeling better—sleeping better, less heartburn, more energy—but still the weight loss wasn’t enough.

Thinking this portion should satisfy? Maybe not!
I wish I could say this was an atypical occurrence. Rather, many a patient, and a parent, present painfully honest about their dissatisfaction. Not with me, I’ll add, but with themselves, their child, their spouse. Really, they struggle to make sense of the reality of changing behaviors with their vision of what shouldbe.
And if you’re like them, it’s not your fault for struggling with this. Ever watch The Biggest Loser? Those who get thrown off the show for not losing fast enough lost 7 or so pounds—in only one week! How about those Jenny Craig and other diet program ads—the ones with those alluring before and after photos with the oh-so-tiny-print revealing for legal reasons, that “results are not typical”? (For the record, losing rapidly will ultimately result in rapid weight increase, preoccupation with food and weight and a host of other consequences).

Perhaps you’re dealing with an eating disorder. These past 2 weeks I’ve watched as my patient’s insurance company repeatedly rejected her pleas for treatment. Alison long struggled with anorexia and bulimia and after much work on the part of her providers (myself included) had agreed to enter a program. I thought that was the hard part. But then the tables turned and she became the one who had to fight for coverage for appropriate care; in the eyes of the insurer, 15 or 20 years entrenched in her eating disorder should surely be remedied in a couple of weeks in a program! Even her providers at the treatment center—no doubt influenced by the regulations and coverage struggles they’ve come to accept—seemed to take that stand, despite her recent slip when left on her own.

You just might encounter some obstacles.
Your difficulties in recovery may be influenced by your unrealistic expectations of the process of recovery or of changing behavior. Like Alan, you may take a “why bother?” approach and throw caution to the wind, sabotaging your progress because you sense you’ve already failed.

Sarah’s parents recently emailed me concerning their anorexic teenage daughter whom I’ve been working with. “She’s been making a point of going out more for dinners and she’d stopped keeping a food record”. Potentially cause for alarm? Maybe. But in Sarah’s case it was anything but. She had make remarkable progress with weight restoration over the preceding months and had been forthcoming about her difficulties—when they occurred. The dinners out? Now that she was more comfortable eating in restaurants and having others prepare her food she was stepping out; it was not an attempt to avoid parental mealtime supervision. And the lack of record keeping? Sarah was working on moving toward more intuitive eating at this point, and we had agreed to move from the daily food logs and exchange list accountability. I am not faulting involved parents in the least. But sometimes change is a good thing, as in Sarah’s case.

Some families expect recovery to be like ER treatment—you come in in a crisis, you get emergency treatment, like surgery or a new medication and you’re discharged to home and fixed. Unfortunately, eating disorder recovery is nothing like this.
So what to do when you live in a world filled with outrageous messages and your unrealistic timeframe for change is far from attainable? Focus on the immediate benefits of the positive changes you’re making, versus dwelling on the disappointments and frustrations. Consider not just the shoulds, as in “I know I’m supposed to be eating better, so that’s good” or “I know that this will help me down the road to prevent heart disease”. 

Don't expect to feel so positive all the time!
Consider the benefits many of my patients shared this week:
  • my energy level is so much better
  • I’m thinking more clearly
  • I’m less preoccupied with what, when, how much to eat and I’ve stopped counting calories!
  • my worst fears haven’t come true, in spite of my resistance to making the changes
  • it’s getting easier to do the tasks I initially struggled with
  • I’m seeing the impact of my role modeling on my young kids
  • I was able to have a scoop of ice cream and trust that it would be there if I wanted more later!
  • I baked and ate what I baked for the first time in years! (from Food to Eat, I’ll add!)

I also saw improved blood sugars in diabetics—with less than Biggest Loser amounts of weight loss, and I heard from both patients and families about improved mood and decreased irritability.

I realize that the positives, like those described above, may also occur side by side some negative experiences. For those starting to eat more as instructed, the physical sensations can be challenging. And anxiety, for many, is a real challenge and may need to be tackled with support from your therapist and MD. I don’t want to paint an unrealistic rosy picture, suggesting that all you need to do is adjust your thinking!

We’d all like a speedy recovery, as the expression goes. But in order to move there, we just might need to adjust our expectations.

Remember Patience?

Your thoughts?

Monday, March 18, 2013

Dessert Happens



Saturday night. New York City. True story.


I’m out to dinner with my husband while visiting New York City, at a restaurant highly praised by a foodie—friend I’ll call Lloyd. And Lloyd says “you must try the desserts—they’re amazing”, or something to that effect. It’s a 45-minute wait for a seat at the bar (a beautiful, relaxed setting, I’ll add). We share a couple of wine flights—those 3 oz samples, and order our meal.

That part was easy. The arctic char appetizer was divine, surpassed by the two entrees we decided in advance to share. (Basically, I have a hard time deciding and don’t want to limit my options, so I petition my husband that we should share and he generally obliges as he did Saturday. Yes, marrying him was a good decision.) 

Skillfully prepared fish and a butternut squash lasagna—the labels do no justice to their taste. Totally wow, and I don’t use superlatives for food too readily. The bread was similarly fabulous—a whole-wheat sourdough seemingly right from the oven served with sweet butter. Of course I enjoyed a couple of slices as they  were put before me.

I was quite satisfied from this leisurely paced meal. A warm beverage would’ve capped it just fine. But Lloyd’s words hovered. I knew I needed to try dessert. What to do? We started with coffee, a spiced French Press, while the menus sat before us. Okay. Let me just inquire, I thought. So I engaged the bartender/waitperson. “Can you tell me about the lemon curd dessert with chocolate and hazelnut crumble (which sounds so weird I can’t even image getting it but I just need to know!)? And she did. “What would yousuggest?” I prodded further. “This or the apple pie with ice cream?” (which sounded so conventional, I thought). She described them both in glowing terms, then added that the apple pie is the restaurant’s most popular. “Fine, then. We’ll take it. It’s decided.” (My husband, by the way, was somewhat indifferent to having dessert that night.)

Surely I could’ve passed on dessert. But guess what followed? Fresh baked, flaky apple pie with homemade vanilla bean ice cream, of course.


 AND the lemon curd dessert—gratis, I’ll add! This lovely waitperson felt we really needed to try both—perhaps she felt my decision-making pain when I announced my dessert selection.
Now what would you do?
  1.    Thank her profusely, then return the second dessert?
  2.    Take a couple of bites, then leave the rest because you had enough?
  3.    Eat both desserts—sharing them of course—even though it is completely unnecessary?

So after we completed devoured the two desserts, which were as delectable as our foodie-friend promised, what to do? We didn’t need the extra calories (and thankfully calorie counts have no place on these non-chain restaurant menus!)

Breathe. The meal was over and we thoroughly enjoyed it. This was hardly the best match of intake and need. Rather, fullness had been overridden by desire, by opportunistic eating (when would I get to try their desserts again?), and the like.

What’s the worst-case scenario? Okay, we took in more than we needed that meal. So what? This is more the exception than the rule—our eating is generally quite fitting for our need. Compensation would lead to consequences—restriction results in excess hunger and deprivation and potentially rebound overeating, or at a minimum, preoccupation with eating.

Besides, we thoroughly enjoyed the two desserts, and the whole dining experience. No regrets.

Would I do anything differently in the future? Perhaps. I just might make a point of going there more often, so it doesn’t feel like a now-or never experience. Gramercy Tavernis not going away anytime soon. I just need to remember that.