Spirituality Inhibited by Active Binging

Spirituality Inhibited by Active Binging

I discovered working with a small intimate group discussing recovery that Spiritual healing alone works if you aren’t dealing with a chemical imbalance. We all experienced a blockage from our spirituality when we were active in binge eating. We lived in a self-centered world and yet never ended up with what satisfied us. We learned we can’t give of ourselves because we’re immersed in addictive eating blocking the connection to God. In our self-centered world we’re unable to love ourselves—we’re centered in self-hate.

Healing requires a three prong mindset: physical, emotional, and spiritual. How can we heal our bodies if our mind is toxic from our chemical response to certain foods? In turn, if we are emotionally bankrupt how do we find our way spiritually? Can we be spiritually connected when we’re knee deep in a food binge?

I can only speak for myself and the answer is—not totally. Yes, the binge dropped me to my knees begging for relief; however, once the food partially digested I was ready for another binge. What comes first cleansing from the binge or reaching out to God?

At times when I was loaded with sugar I struggled with negative images of God, feelings of spiritual unworthiness and shame, fear of abandonment by God, intense difficulty surrendering and keeping faith, and dishonesty and deception. I believed in God yet had deep spiritual struggles creating a major impediment to my ability to recover from my eating disorder.

This is not to say there were not previous times in my life where I felt a connection to God and a degree of personal spirituality. I still attended weekly Sunday mass intermittently but lost these connections through the course of my eating disorder. In essence, I realized spiritual healing can happen but first I needed to address my chemical imbalance on a physical, spiritual, and emotional level.

Where is Spirit?

Where is spirit? Where do you find it? Do we all have a spiritual guide? A chapter in my manuscript discusses the impact of the ever presence of strong spirituality. With regards to compulsive eating, some believe without spiritual energy one is blocked from reaching their peak because the noise is too loud – telling you to eat foods that are going to make you sick – yet you eat them anyway because the voice tells you to. The voice that is saying it is okay this one time because you will begin your diet tomorrow or Monday or on some special holiday. Lent is here and it is a time many addicts vow to not eat, drink, smoke or whatever the vice is for 40 days and 40 nights. A promise to cleanse and begin anew.


Father Tom pressed his thumb hard against my forehead mumbling "ashes to ashes – dust to dust" as he left the imprint of a charcoal colored cross taking up most of the space above my eyes and below my hairline. I walked around wearing my thumb print for all to see– ready to take up the cross and repent – and give up something. This year I relinquished salt and sweeteners. To some this may sound simple, for me it is a gargantuan task. I sprinkle salt on everything and sweeteners are soon to follow. How will my spirit take over my cravings. Will they just be lifted or do I consciously give them up? Do I put the focus on salt and sweeteners or on spirit?

I think of spirit like fresh snow draping over tree branches as they dip low in the early morning with bird prints sprawled below; the scent of freshly cut grass mixed with spring Lilly's and sea air; Sage pressing her cold wet nose in my hand in hopes I will pet her soft luscious white coat; a baby smiling and cooing as it looks at me in hoisted position off her mothers shoulder; sitting on the dock with a hot cup of tea after planting fresh daisies below the cobalt sky and bluish gray waters dancing like diamonds sprinkled about. Spirit is everywhere. Everywhere is spirit. I invite and embrace it. Spirit enters and addictions are pushed far back - almost a dream – at least for this moment.

The day after pledging your penance reality sits in. Wanting what you have agreed to give up comes calling. Wondering if you really can go 40 days without your designated "drug." It is easy to say I swear and promise I will give this substance up as the palm ashed cross is securely placed and visible for all to see. But the day after is an entirely different feel. The withdrawals begin to set in and missing your favorite "whatever" comes calling. It is at this point you ask where is my spirit that will lead me to recovery? Where?

Where is spirit? Spirit is here, there, and everywhere – always present – always ready to serve. It requires no cue – it just is. You can't touch it, smell it, or see it, but if you're still enough you can feel it. It is available for everyone whether you are tall, short, big, small, black, white or in between. Spirit has no face yet is in each face. Spirit is here. Is now. Lent is here. I give my salt and sweetener to you higher energy and welcome the freedom.


Photos by: Dr. Lisa Ortigara Crego

Where Am I Anyway?

Where am I? I thought I left Chicago behind weeks ago and yet the cold weather seems to have followed me. I enjoyed the crisp windy city for five days the last week of December, knowing I would return to the sunshine state (Florida) where warm weather is promised day in and day out – except now. I have been home for weeks and this weather has not let up. I believe the mind and the spirit control the body and make change. How can I apply this theory to Antarctica weather in south Florida?

I woke this morning to 33 degrees and a wind-chill factor of 22. The air is crisp, rain is falling in sleets, a dark gloomy cast is upon us. Yep, Chicago weather followed me. I am freezing – ran the heat 13 days straight – seems almost surreal as I have not used the heater in years. When I turned it on it smoked the first five minutes resembling the smell of burnt dirty socks.

Now, why did I move from Chicago May 1986? I recall standing on the El downtown Chicago waiting for my train. It was March and blistering cold. I looked up to the heavens and claimed out loud I was moving to Florida in May to never be cold again. To feel the warm air hug me even in the evening hour strolls along the beach; yet, here I am in the sunshine state breaking the coldest streak in 43 years!

It is evident I never did like the cold. My bones ache, I feel down and depressed and I am looking for hot anything to sip on. In fact, chili is cooking in the crock pot as I write. Exercise is foreign these last few days. Last time I biked I was layered in clothes, wearing thermal ware, gloves, and a hat...and wishing for ear muffs, which most Florida people do not even know what they are. I biked to an almost desolate beach. Work is no respite either, my office is an icebox. No heater there –hands are numb writing progress notes.

Even Sage ( my 75 pound white German Shepard) voluntarily went into her house most of the day curled in a small pretzel as far back as she could position herself, which reminds me of myself pressing my body close to my husband who emits heat like an oven. Thank you God – no need for an electric blanket as my husband serves as a personal heater – my 7 hour respite from the cold.

A Florida wimp I am. It is cold, raining, and very dark and gloomy out. I feel the same. I miss the sun! SAD (Season Affective Disorder) is very real. I pray for sun and warmth tomorrow, my sunshine state , as I know it, to hold true to its name, and the world will be right again. I will jump on my bike – ride the beach and feel one with nature. Although I believe mind and spirit control the body, I backtrack when my body is cold. I need warm thoughts to change the outcome. For now, I'll employ the fake it till you make it mentality.