Stop Eating Your Heart Out. Meryl Hershey Beck

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      Day

Personal Journal

      You are reading this book in order to stop emotional eating. Unless you allow yourself to feel your feelings and work through them, it will be very hard, if not impossible, to refrain from compulsive overeating. As you continue writing in your food-mood diary you will begin to recognize triggers. (In chapter 5, you will learn ways to dissipate the feelings and minimize the triggers.) Journaling is a way to encourage your feelings to come up, feelings that you've been running from. Use your notebook to create a personal journal for yourself and begin writing on a daily basis. With awareness can come change.

      Many of my clients have told me that writing was one of the most important tools for getting them in touch with their feelings. Sometimes our conscious minds say one thing, but when we begin writing, we might be blown away at what comes forth. Journals are private, for your eyes only, and they allow you to express your emotions honestly.

      Through writing, you can begin to explore some of the slippery feelings that are hard to define; you can clarify your feelings for yourself; you can have an emotional release. You will discover firsthand that when you discharge the feeling, the food craving disappears. Yes, that's right. When a feeling is bottled up, it can lead to food cravings or the need to fill up by compulsive overeating or bingeing. Once the emotion is released—by writing about it—the need for food subsides. It is quite amazing to experience this.

      Journaling is also a great stress-management technique. You can write whatever you want and, as they say, let it all hang out. The journal is just for you; make sure you keep it in a safe place. Research has shown there are health benefits to journaling—it improves cognitive functioning, strengthens the immune system, lessens stress, helps clarify thoughts and feelings, and opens the way to understanding oneself better.

      For many years, I kept a journal with my private thoughts and feelings. Many times I started a page with “I don't know what to write about today.” But within a few minutes, my pen was gliding along the page, leaving a trail of words in its wake. When I allowed myself to feel whatever was bubbling up within me, I allowed the words to spill out on the page. I didn't care about spelling or punctuation, I just let my hand keep writing and writing until I felt spent. Spent, but happier. Writing was very therapeutic for me.

      When I began journaling, I was afraid of examining my feelings. I had just started psychotherapy with the unspoken intention of figuring out why I was compelled to eat so much, and I was seeing my therapist twice a week. But my emotions had been pushed down for so long that I felt like Pandora's box—I was concerned that if I accessed those long-suppressed feelings, I'd never be able to close them off again. I feared touching into that dark pit of emotions would open me up too much and then our session would be over and I'd be left alone with my raw feelings. So instead of facing my feelings for the first time on someone else's schedule and with an audience, I went home after each therapy appointment and wrote in my journal. I wrote . . . I cried . . . I wrote some more . . . I cried some more. Each week I took my journal with me to my therapy session and read my tear-stained entries. Although I never allowed myself to cry during a session, the therapist and I talked about my feelings, and I received valuable counseling about what I had written.

      Now as a psychotherapist myself, I have the opportunity to read and discuss clients' journals with them. Here is an excerpt from Lisa's journal. I shortened her actual entry (often the insights come after a page or two has been written):

      I am feeling so alone. No one called me yesterday and I didn't go out of the house. What's wrong with me? I am a mess. I am alone. I am me. I don't like me. No wonder no one comes to see me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Who am I? Who is me?

      I could just wither away and die and no one would notice. Well, I guess I won't wither away cuz I keep eating and eating. Why am I eating so much lately? I want to feel full. My life feels empty and food gives me fullness and satisfaction. But not really. It doesn't last. I eat and eat and eat. I like feeling stuffed. I hate feeling stuffed. I like feeling full. I hate it when my stomach hurts but I deserve to be in pain.

      I see it, maybe. I feel alone, I feel lonesome, I feel empty. No one calls. I am shut in. I open the cupboards and they are filled with my friends—they make me happy. I like crunching chips but then my mouth feels scratchy and sore. . . . My mouth hurts, under my tongue. Why did I eat so many chips? They started tasting like oil but I didn't stop until the bag was empty. Then my mouth hurt and my lips were sore from the salt.

      I ate so much yesterday that I was on the verge of feeling sick. How could I think of food as my friend? I felt so nauseous after all that I ate, but I couldn't stop. I went into some kind of trance I think. I don't even remember getting the chips out of the cupboard and then I was standing with an empty bag wiping salt off my lips.

      What is wrong with me? Why do I keep eating and eating? Why am I so alone? Maybe I should join a church or a photo class or a meet-up group. It feels like too much work. I can stay home with my food or I can make myself go out and meet people. The food is so much easier. Let's see, what shall I choose—food or friends??? What would it take for me to go out and meet people? Why don't my friends call me more? Why am I always alone? That's not true, I am not always alone. I was alone yesterday. Last week I met Joan for dinner one night and had lunch with Sally. Last week Mo and I went to the show. Maybe I do see people. I didn't yesterday. Why didn't I call anyone?

      Okay, I will do it. I will call Jean or Greta or Sue today and make a date to see them. I was having a pity party yesterday and turned to my old friends—chips and cookies. I felt like I was a little kid with no friends. I have friends. I forgot. I have friends. Maybe I don't see them or hear from them every day. Sometimes I like being alone and sometimes it makes me lonely. I have friends and we get along. Food is sometimes the only friend I know. I need to remember I have friends who aren't in the cupboard or refrigerator.

      Lisa and I had been working together for СКАЧАТЬ