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.

Mindful...

Mindful...

Today my goal is to stay present. Have you ever tried this? The mind always wants to think about what needs to be done next or what we already did. To focus on the here and now is difficult for most. What makes me fixed on staying present is the chaos around me. Many of my loved ones are experiencing very difficult situations, which encourages me to sit still in gratitude for what I have and am thankful for.

I took a luxurious walk this morning along the Inter-coastal and Atlantic ocean. The view was spectacular. I saw the sun peak out over the purple/orange backdrop on the ocean shoreline. A new day is about to begin. My legs are strong and my energy abound. My fur-child Sage moves with me as if we are one. Her tail swishes side to side – so joyful to be with me out on a walk. She lives in the now.

A person learns they have an illness, let’s say it is a rare disease and they will no longer be able to see. I would imagine for the time left they would be looking at everything with attention knowing soon there would be a sea of darkness. I wonder why not see today as if it were my last view. Or live each day as my last. What would I do different? Who would I want to spend time with? What would I say that had not been said?

Today I practice mindfulness. The dictionary defines mindfulness as calm awareness of one's body functions, feelings, content of consciousness, or consciousness itself. I am totally conscious of my fingers dancing over the keys putting words together. I am told mindfulness is the path to liberation and enlightenment. It is the intense purpose of staying in the now. I get this. For the past two years I had been consumed with paying off my $85,000 student loan. Yes, you read the numbers correctly. My goal was to become debt free.

During this quest it was difficult to remain in the present because I was living for the future of no debt. I had a special birthday this year: 9-09-09. What made it special beyond the cool numbers? I decided two years ago to pay off all my debt including my student loan with Miss Sallie on September 9, 2009. I kept my nose to the grind for two years and not waiver one iota to purchase anything that was not of absolute necessity. I learned to live with less and appreciate the free gifts around me daily.

I accomplished my goal and on Wednesday, September 9, 2009 I wrote my last check to Sallie and enthusiastically dropped it in the mail box on my way to work. I thought I would hear a chorus of angels burst into song. I did not. But what I did experience was a keen awareness of peace and liberation. I no longer am a slave to owing.

So, today I am present. I refuse to think about what needs to be done next or what I already did. I am present with each breath in and out. I am present to the sounds of birds singing and the whispers of the wind as it folds through the palm trees out my window. I am here and now. What makes me fixed on staying present is the chaos around me. Loved ones are at personal crossroads – forced to face difficult situations, which encourages me to sit still in gratitude for what I have and am thankful for.

Photo taken by: Dr. Lisa Ortigara Crego

A Runaway Train

It rained all day today. I started a walk with Sage early this morning and half way noted the sky turned dark and the wind came up out of nowhere. I debated whether to keep going or turn around and head home. I decided to push forward. Not good. After what seemed like a few minutes the heavens opened and the rains gushed. Sage was not happy as her tail pressed between her legs and her ears slicked completely back.

We abruptly turned around in a walk/run pace and headed home. We were soaked. After peeling off my wet clothes and slipping into something dry I began to work on my manuscript on compulsive eating. It continued to rain the entire day and I sat in this very spot painfully making revisions and cutting out paragraphs that did not fit.

Writing about a subject so close to my heart reminds me of days struggling with weight and food. Sometimes I get accused of simplifying the ability to release the obsession to food. It was not an easy decision to make. I cried, bargained, and relapsed for decades before accepting I have an eating disorder. It has been years since I ate simple carbohydrates. I think about chocolate, doughnuts, and thick loaves of Italian bread from time to time, but I know eating them would only pull me back into out of control eating and low grade depression. It is not worth it.

As I wrote and revised I thought about many patients who relapsed and began compulsively eating after a few months of relief. Although each has their own story, they often resemble each other. Often I am asked how do you stop a binge? It is as difficult to redirect thinking as it is to stop a train when it is going full speed. It slowly grinds to a halt.

A binge must be stopped before it starts or it will run full speed out of control until the stomach is full beyond "normal" capacity and shame and remorse for the behavior begins to set in. My questions are: What was going on before the binge? Were you hungry? Did you miss a meal? What did you last eat? Were you tired or possibly irritable and angry? Are you overwhelmed about something? Answers to these questions teach awareness and triggers to binge.

Writing and revising my manuscript reminds me of times when I experienced the questions above. I eat meals no later than 5 hours apart. I prefer four. I make sure I get at least seven hours of sleep and exercise daily to release stress. My food is whole food never simple carbohydrates and always balanced with nutritious foods to keep my body running smooth and ward off cravings.

A patient who relapsed and began compulsively eating was certain she did everything to stay on her healthy eating course. We went through each question and discovered she skipped dinner the day before because she was too tired. The next day she felt she could eat more than her usual meal to make up for the meal she missed the day before. She felt full and fat after eating and proceeded with thoughts of imagined weight gain. Old familiar self-talk ensued. She felt angry, out of control, and foolish for eating more than she needed. This led to out of control eating.

Another patient forgot to take her lunch to work and decided to wing it with fast-food. She intended to take the bun off her sandwich and order a side salad skipping fries. The instructions to the cashier were misunderstood. By the time she got back to the office to eat her food she realized she had the wrong meal. She was very hungry as it was six hours since she ate. She wolfed the food down without thinking: similar to a runaway train.

What is the moral of this story? You must be prepared with each meal never depending on someone else to get it right. I take my meals with me unless I know exactly what I am eating and it fits my food program. This is the part where some get annoyed and call this rigid. I call it lifesaving. I see it as vigilant. I spent too many years suffering with obesity and obsessive eating which is now replaced with peace and tranquility, not to mention normal weight.

The rain is starting to subside and the sounds of birds singing is filling the once steady pound of water against the windows. The sun is peaking out between a few lingering clouds. Maybe Sage is ready to go out and run around in the yard as she easily forgets her fear of storms.

Photos by Dr. Lisa Ortigara Crego

A Summer Afternoon Swim...

A lazy Sunday afternoon swim with thunder rolling in the distance is my idea of a perfect setting. The sun is still shinning, yet dark luminous clouds hang over simultaneously. I marvel at how I swam laps with such ease, yet with urgency knowing a storm is not too far off. I am reminded of last year when I gasped for breath with only 5 laps of swimming.

I never was much of a swimmer. As a child, raised on the beach every summer in Wautoma Wisconsin, enjoying boating, skiing, rowing and catching frogs in the pond, you would think I would be “naturally” a strong swimmer. I even lived with my sister Debbie half our childhood summers smack on the beach in our little tent. Sometimes at night we would take a little night swim, but I never strayed out too far.

And as if living on the beach was not enough to make a swimmer out of me, my grandmother graduated with a degree in physical education and taught swimming as well as competed on swim teams. Go figure! Ma (how we addressed her) even lived in the main house near our cottage on the beach. You would think I would somehow absorb her talent and strength as a swimmer. Nope.

So, the question that begs to be asked is why I had such fear of swimming. I have no idea. I have vivid memories of being stuffed in an orange life jacket and feeling confined. I was not comfortable wearing it nor was I comfortable without it. My siblings joyfully swam out to the raft to play "King of the Raft." The goal was to push everyone off the raft and last person standing was king...or should I say queen. My memory of attempting to swim to the raft screamed of fear. I recall paddling and paddling trying to reach the raft engulfed by dark cold water only to approach the huge barrels holding up the raft and peering at the emptiness underneath it. No...I did not want to be queen of the raft. I wanted to be safe on shore eating something sweet and gooey. I had neither energy nor desire to join my siblings.

I was a skinny scrawny kid, always fatigued. I had zero energy. I preferred junk food over real food. I was anemic and was on daily iron drops. Of course I did not stay skinny long. When I hit my teen years I grew quite voluptuous…and then chunky…and then darn right obese. These were the starting years of my on and off dieting, binging, and fluctuating up and down in weight. I have countless pictures wearing an oversized t-shirt covering my shorts. I never wore a swim suit during my adolescence because I was ashamed of my body.

Now here I am 40 years later at my pool wearing my suit and very comfortable in my own body, no longer binging, no longer with weight up or down. It just stays steadily at a nice comfortable maintained weight. I wish I knew then what I know now as I sit at the edge of my pool taking in a lovely afternoon. Well…until the loud piercing thunder shook me out of my daze and inside the house I went. The sky was quickly darkening and a storm was near at hand. Since Florida is the lightening capital of the world I think it's time to back myself inside and finish this blog.

Celebrating and Mourning Simultaneously...

Happy Birthday America! Today is the Fourth of July...a day worth remembering and reminiscing. Today is the day America decided to become independent of Great Britain. This day represents freedom to make our own rules and be responsible for our welfare.

My day began with sunny, blue skies, white puffy clouds, birds singing. A picture perfect South Florida day! A time for America to remember and celebrate what was and what is. Although a truly glorious day, somewhere someone is mourning. Someone is sick. Someone is losing someone. I think of Mom and recall several Fourth of Julys after she suffered a massive stroke (days before her 64th birthday), I was filled with sadness and questioned how the world could still be moving forward while I was suspended in gripping emotional pain.

The same holds true on this fourth day of July celebration. Even though some of us might be grappling with an emotional, physical, or spiritual loss, the 4th of July must go on. It is no doubt a time for celebration, which includes: picnics, boat outings, Barbeques, et cetera. Of course, with celebrations come foods, drinks and temptations. This is the American way! But...perhaps not everyone is so festive. Many suffer from illnesses and losses. Certainly Michael Jackson's family is mourning their loss. And in my own life I have losses and family members suffering from illnesses and aging.

I can't help but wonder what role food plays in illnesses, losses, and death. Take Michael Jackson for instance. He was a 50 year old icon, weighing in at 112 pounds at the time of his death. It is my understanding he was somewhere between 5-8 and 5-10 in height. In my line of work (eating disorders, body image dysmorphia, and mood disorders) this would be a huge red flag. Did he suffer from a low self body image? It seems evident by his history of plastic surgery and total change in body appearance he did. Did he suffer from addictions to prescription drugs? With all the surgeries and other medical issues he had he was in chronic pain and may have become addicted to prescription medications. I have witnessed in my practice as a certified addiction professional, addictions to medications quite common. Did he have an eating disorder tied in? Maybe. I did not hear anything regarding this; however, he definitely was not of a normal weight and did seem to have an issue with growing up. Perhaps he kept his body frame boy-like to avoid growing up.

Many female anorexics keep their body's girl-like, stop menses, and appear to harbor a flat chest to hide their femininity perhaps to be in control. My Mom did not restrict, she was the opposite. She wore her weight and then some. She ate large portions of high fat, salty foods. Perhaps she grew her body rather than restricted to accomplish the same goal of hiding her feminine side. As pointed out with Michael Jackson, men are not free from eating disorders and/or body image dysmorphia. My uncle, a rather large man, died from cancer. He ate heavy meals, did not exercise, wore extra weight, and may not have been spiritually connected. He died young...late fifties. I believe unprocessed foods play a huge role in healthy minds and healthy bodies. All of my self-hypnosis CDs address the importance of clean eating, exercise, and spiritual recovery.

And so here we are on this glorious day. The Florida sun tucked away for the evening as festivities of 4th of July come to a halt. I wonder, as the last bits of fireworks fall from the sky, sounds still within ear shot, how many close this day with full bellies and empty bellies both rumbling from restricting or binging. Many are alone and lonely, turning to food for comfort...or not. Eating disorders come in many guises. It does not matter if your black or white...or somewhere in between. It does not matter if you're rich or poor...or somewhere in the middle.

Look at Michael Jackson, Elvis Presley, Elizabeth Taylor, Oprah...all rich and famous, all suffered/ suffering from eating disorders and/or addictions of some type. Today, I celebrate America's Independence. I celebrate my independence. I broke away from food controlling me...and now live free. I hope those suffering and hurting today will find independence from pain and sadness...and the loss of loved ones. Life is to be celebrated. America is to be celebrated. Let's wave our flag proudly. We live in a country that offers help and hope to all.

Photos by: Dr. Lisa Ortigara Crego