Um ... Alchoholic?

So ... as I've mentioned before in this blog, I've been watching my eating patterns like a scientist conducting an experiment with monkeys.

I've had weeks were all I've wanted is junk food, sugared food, pizza. And then other weeks where I just want pure juices ... blah blah, I'm bascially getting in touch with what my body wants and desires.

I start this fast on Wednesday, and things in my life, next steps, actions I should take, start getting really clear to me. I see a posting for a part time job, and I think, yes, I am going to apply for that. The implication of that becomes much bigger to me right away - it is a starting step to breaking my long-term, 10-year stretch with my current employer.

Saturday morning I woke up for work, and I simply felt ... awake. Like I've been in a coma or hybernating for the last five years. Now it's time to get up and out and live my life.

However, I've been hanging out with Mike a lot the last few days as well. I am feeling lonely - I don't have money to go out, and I feel isolated. I think this is of my own doing, but another time for that. Right now, I am just realizing that I want to LIVE! I want to see things and do things and meet people

And I've not been doing that the last few years. My social life has been grinding to halt. I think I'm changing paths, changing friends. I just don't know where it's going yet.

How this relates to my eating.

Yesterday, I was off my fast as I mentioned I was doing. I had eaten avocado and grapefruit as I've been craving like a mad woman for the last couple weeks.

A coworker invited me out for lunch. We went to an asian noodle place.

I ordered a dish called "Drunken Noodles." Who knew the name would be so appropriate.

On the surface, the dish was a good choice - it was vegetarian, and the noodles were rice. So, no wheat or dairy. I thought I was making a good, smart decision. I knew the sauce on this particular dish was sweet, so I knew there was some sugar going in to this. I have been thinking that sugar is something I need to avoid, as kind of a self-righteous healthy decision. I know it makes me a little hyper, but it's just sugar. It's not like it's booze or heroin. What does it hurt?

I'm starting to think that, maybe, for me, it is. And the following is my reasoning why...

I need this next part to be read like a slow motion scene in a movie: Fade in to me and my lunch date on the down escalator, chatting amiably as we go out the door for lunch. Ahead of us, one of our co-workers turns in slow motion, and says some funny comment. Again, picture slow motion. The comment he says comes out slow motion too, it was one word, like, "B l e n d e r s ".

Picture the guy who spoke slow motion turning back to the face the direction of the escaltor. Picture my co-worker and I at first slow motion laughing, and then both of us slow motion getting a confused, somewhat serious look on our faces. Slow motion Close up of the other co-workers mouth. Slow motion close up of me and my lunchdate getting a push of air onto our faces. Slow motion close up of us noticing a smell on that breath of air. Picture a live-action shot of the other co-worker having a lively drink with others at the bar on his lunch.

His breath reeked of booze. I couldn't quite place it, it wasn't beer. But it was booze. He turned and chatted to us one more time on the escalator down; and this time, I saw him. I saw his read eyes, his hazy demeanor, his trying very hard to keep it in check, but the inability to let some of the drunkeness slip out. He was drunk. Not just slightyly buzzed. Full. On. Drunk. At work. Working with the lovely homeowners of Chicago's Lincoln Park.

Neither my lunchdate or I said anything about what we smelled. It felt wrong to do that, more like gossip. But it struck me - couldn't customers smell that? Other co-workers? Management? And his actions were so manic - couldn't anyone else see this other than me?

I had an urge to go tell a manager about it. And then I decided that no, it wasn't going to help him if I did that. He's got to figure out he needs help. Me trying to tattle and jeopordize his job was not the solution.

Fast forward to us coming out of lunch. I had eaten all of my dish. My "Drunken Noodles." I remember laughing to myself at the title, how appropriate, they are sugary noodles and they call them "Drunken". I downed that whole plate. My lunchdate, a male I work with, ate only half of his entree.

We are walking back to work, and I can feel the lunch I just ate start to affect my system. I feel a shiver run through me. I feel my heart rate picking up. Could be from the walking, although we aren't walking that fast. But the bigger thing is, I feel myself getting gigglier and more animated.

It's about a ten minute walk back to the store. We somehow were talking about drinking, my co-worker asked if I was a happy drunk or a sad drunk. I said a happy drunk, and then told a story about one of my exploits.

I'm retelling the story, a story pin-pointing a problem with how I got when I was drinking ... and I felt like how I felt when I was drinking. I felt happy and animated and a little loud and that everything I said was brilliantly funny!!! Ha! HA! WOOOO!

I could feel it, I was getting ... drunk. Lunch is over and I get back out onto the sales floor. Some customers I had talked to the week prior were there, and grabbed me to ask me a question. I answer, but I was feeling a little foggy, and I misunderstood the question. They asked, "Do you have birdseed?" Of course meaning, does this store carry birdseed. I, however, answered, well, no, I don't have a backyard to have a bird feeder oh you mean do we carry birdseed! Yes, it's back here. The couple laughs heartily, the husband says, "Good one!" with a smile. Oh, yes. I certainly used to make people smile when I was drinking. I was charming and fun and funny and everybody just LOVED ME when I was drunk. I was feeling so much like that right now. I felt happy and good.

Then I went upstairs to my area. A couple of my coworkers were there, and I came upstairs and immediately made some grand, brillant comment. My co-workers kind of laugh. I take that ball and run with it. I start making more brilliant comments to one of my female co-workers.

Here's an interesting break in the story line: she and I have worked together for many years. I always felt like she just b a r e l y tolerated me. She'd smile and be nice, but I felt it was all she could muster. We didn't talk easily.

Since I've been doing my experiments with my eating, as well with just my own growth as a human being, she has warmed up to me a lot. I never really sought her friendship or approval. But I could feel that as I got a little more genuine with her, she simply felt better being around me.

Now we are back to my post lunch Drunken Noodle high. I can feel the sugars kicking in, and I am talking faster and am more animated. At first, my female co-worker comes over to hear my story that I'm sharing. But within a couple words, I see her eyes darken, and she kind of shuts off, and goes to help a customer.

And I see ... that she sees. She can tell when I'm "me," and she can tell when I'm "drunk". She would never call it that. She might call it hyper, or acting loud and obnoxious. But it became clear to me that others see it. They can see the difference.

That's when something hit me like a punch in the jaw: I've been still "drinking" all these years. I thought I quit, but all i did was switch from cigarettes to chewing tobbacco. Takes a little bit longer for the chewing tobacco to work, and it's nasty and it's gross. But it generates the same hit on a physiolgical level.

The punch landed squarely. I reeled a little bit.

I instantly brought it down a notch. I was very concerned about how I was acting. I quieted down. I brought down the bigness of my actions.

It was quite a revelation. I always thought that people just LOVED ME when I got like that. Suddenly I saw that they really didn't.

And I saw me. That isn't me. It's me hiding behind the armour of some chemical effect.

So here's the bigger question: is the alcohol the addiction, or the sugar? Cuz I can tell you, I was binge eating since I was a littel kid, it was my soothing comfort starting at about third grade. Maybe sooner, when my dad would have us sit and eat ice cream together at night when I was three and four. Sugar starts super early. Cuz. it's. harmless.

Only, I don't think it's harmless for me. I get really angry and mean when I come off from it. Sounds so silly, but it true. I think it's a real problem for me.

So I got thinking: do I go to an alcoholics anonymous meeting for this, or overeaters anonymous? Alcoholics Anonymous feels more right, but it also feels more dramatic. Like "Oh!!!! I'm ! An ! ALCOHOLIC!!!!!!!! OOOOaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!!!!

Not sure how to get help on this. I think I'm going to check out on of each and see which feels more true.

The strange thing here is this: I was told my a spiritual advisor that she was getting alcoholism from my energy. I said, well, I overeat, I have an eating problem. She said, No. IT's not that that I'm getting. I'm getting alcoholism.

So am I trying to be a self-fulfiling prophecy; or am I admitting to the problem? We'll find out. Thanks for listening. Until next time.