A Shift in Thinking

Yesterday I took a walk around the pond again. This time I went with my Mom. We saw the Blue Heron, which had been gone all winter. It was a nice day for a walk--temperatures in the 50's with the sun shining.

Thankfully, somehow my attitude seems to have shifted regarding my eating habits. On Monday and Tuesday, I did not overeat at all. This is the first time in months that I've refrained from eating too much for a full day. Wednesday, I ended up overeating, but Thursday I was back on track.

What caused this shift that had eluded me for a long time? Not sure, but it seemed to have started Monday morning, while I was smoking a cigarette. It occurred to me, "If I want to be healthy, be thin, I need to think like a thin person would. It is all in the mind. That is the only difference--the way we think, our attitude."

To be able to avoid overeating, and to be able to lose weight, I feel I need to accept my hunger as a natural sensation that I can be on friendly terms with. Otherwise, every time I feel the slightest hunger, I start eating. And once I start, it is hard to stop. I read on an overeater's website about the dilemma that overeaters find themselves in. Not to say that food addiction is any harder to stop than drugs or alcohol, but it is a unique situation, in that when one is addicted to drugs or alcohol, one can lock up the tiger (avoid drugs altogether), but "you can't stop eating food. So instead of caging up the tiger forever, it's a little like taking the tiger for a walk three times a day."

So later that day, somehow I found myself feeling differently towards my hunger. I made peace with it. I would rather be hungry than full of unnecessary food and dealing with the psychological burden that comes with it. I didn't allow myself to eat anything when I became hungry (except for the three meals, of course), because I knew it would lead me to eating too much.

But the next day, I found I was able to eat a small amount of food when hungry, without eating too much. It helps if I have a healthy snack, like fruit or yogurt. If I start in on the pretzels (carbs), it's all over.

So by some grace, I have started winning some battles against food. The war is not over yet--I still have psychological cravings--but I've begun to overcome. And I feel good about it. Somehow, the hunger in the pit of my stomach makes me feel a little more alive. Weird, huh?

Alternatives

As I smoked my first cigarette of the morning, I realized how negative I felt. I did not accomplish much yesterday, and the resulting feelings of discouragement had carried over into today. I felt stuck.

Be positive, I said to myself. It is all in the mind. After taking an inventory of things that I am grateful for, I asked myself: What can I do to make today a positive experience?

I was able to come up with a few options:

• Watch The Secret. Many of you are probably familiar with this documentary-style video. It is based on the "Law of Attraction," which asserts that whatever one thinks and feels will be attracted to them. Although I may not completely agree with it, I see it as an affirmation of the power of the mind and it encourages me to stay positive.
  
• Do some creative writing.
  
• Complete a couple tasks on the to-do list.
• Meditate.
• Read spiritual literature.

After brainstorming these ideas, my attitude had improved. If I follow through with some of these choices, today should be a good day. I just have to remember that there are always alternatives to wallowing in negativity.

Where My Dreams May Lead...

We had a poker game to celebrate last night. After all my relatives had left, I laid down on the couch at two a.m., and soon drifted off to sleep.

In my first dream of the new year, I was spending time with an old high school friend. In the dream, we felt great affection for each other, and we started kissing passionately- the kind of kisses that take your breath away.

As I started to wake up, I felt sad to leave her lips and the deep feelings of affection I had for her.

Wow, I thought, it has been a long time since I've been in the arms of a woman...

I felt part of me reawakening...

I felt a longing for the companionship of another...

I felt good, but lonely...

I started to evaluate my life.

I have made progress over the last year. No longer do I lay on the couch all day. I am more talkative, more engaged. But what lies beyond my small circle of comfort?

Nascent thoughts began to form in my mind: maybe it is time to step beyond myself... to push myself further out into the game of life. A job. An apartment. A girlfriend. For a long time it was too overwhelming to even consider striving for these goals. And in a way, it still is. But now I am almost able to desire these things, to imagine myself attaining them.

All this stirred up by the lips of a woman in a dream. It was more than a kiss, though. To me, it was a symbol of stepping back into the flow of life. My subconscious saying, don't forget what is out there... don't forget what possibilities life holds.

Hopes and Burdens

I've been listening to some old mix tapes I made when I was in high school. They take me back to a different time in my life. A time when I was so sure of myself. I had a good group of friends nearby, a girlfriend, the soccer team. I was a leader in Boy Scouts, and a writer and editor for the school newspaper. But my nostalgia is tempered by the fact that I was also depressed and full of angst and anger toward what seemed to be an unjust society.

Since then I've had much happen that I would have never dreamed of. I moved out to California. I was diagnosed with Crohn's disease. Had a few different girlfriends. Lived in Tijuana, Mexico for six months. Moved back to San Diego near the beach, made new friends and learned to surf. Eventually I had a psychotic episode, was diagnosed with schizophrenia, and ended up back in New Hampshire, living at home again. Life has come full circle, yet I am a much different person than I was back in high school.

There is little that I regret, yet much that I may never accomplish. I always assumed that I would have a successful career, buy a house, get married, and have two or three children. Over the past year I have come to terms with the fact that all this may not be in the cards for me. It no longer frustrates or angers me. Que sera, sera.

I do still have some hopes and dreams though. I still want to get married someday; I feel having a partner to share life's ups and downs with would eventually be important to me. Right now, however, I feel it is enough to sort out my own life, without dealing with someone else's psyche.

Also, I think that some sort of gratifying work would be good for me in the long term. Work seems to give people a sense of purpose and satisfaction.

But I am no longer jealous of my friends that have career track jobs with stock options and a 401K. That is great for them, but may never materialize for me. It is my own life, and I need to set my own goals and try not to compare myself to others.

We all have our own burdens to carry. And I must do the best I can with what I have been given.

A River of Peace

"How was the NAMI meeting?" I ask my mother as she takes off her jacket and puts down her purse. She had just returned from a support group for friends and family of people with mental illness.

"Good, I'm glad I went. It was good to see everyone again. Such sad stories though. I think that's why I stopped going after a while- it can get kinda depressing. Most of the people there are having a lot of trouble with their loved one and they need to vent and support each other. It's a really good group for them, I just don't feel like I fit in. You're just so easy to live with."

I smile. I feel fortunate to have such a loving, understanding mother. I know she is glad that I take the medicine that allows me to think clearly. Without the meds, there's no telling what state of mind I would be in.

"You know," I say, "from the schizophrenia recovery stories I've read, many of these people had really tough times, hit rock bottom, and eventually turn things around and end up being OK."

"Do you think it's the meds that does it for them?"

"Well, it's not the only thing, I think it takes more than that... but medicine is often the foundation for everything else. Medicine... and hope."

Having her go out to the NAMI meeting takes me back to when I first was diagnosed. I would lie on the couch in the living room, feeling so sad and depressed and I'd wait anxiously for her to get back from the meeting, hoping she'd bring some good news about my condition, some bit of hope. It makes me emotional to think of that time, wandering through the dark woods of a new, frightening diagnosis, desperately seeking a glint of light.

And I still remember a night later on when I was lying on my bed staring off at the ceiling, and spontaneously I started visualizing myself merging into a flowing body of water- a river of peace, a river that washed away all worry, that gave the strength to deal with anything that could possibly happen, including death.

I thought to myself, "this must be what hope feels like."

And suddenly, by the grace of God, I had something to hang on to.