NEUR0vanity

Remember that you are not cured.

That's what the bulleted point read on the yellow outline for how to prepare my testimony (which I delivered on June 30 at Peace Church in Eagan). I am not immune to cravings; they are to be expected. What I did not expect was the voracity of my addiction. It is not limited to chemical dependency. It is a compulsion that exists within me, a nagging urge to soothe myself in unhealthy ways.

When an addiction manifests itself in a new form, that's called cross-addiction. And that's what I've been struggling with.

When I got out of rehab, I began to spend money compulsively. On one occasion, I went out to purchase a pink gym bag (that I didn't need) and ended up not only buying an assortment of lotions, body washes, and pink tupperware but also found myself standing around in the digital imaging department with the intention of purchasing a $250 camera. I had not been to work in three weeks. Prior to that, I had been working only 15-20 hours a week. I had no money. Yet there I stood, prepared to put this frivolous item on my credit card.

The compulsive spending continued even after I recognized what my behavior was - that it was unnecessary, a product of my addiction, and detrimental to continuing on my path of improvement as looking my increasing debt would no doubt cause my happiness to wane. It wasn't unlike realizing that I was an alcoholic yet continuing to drink. At one point, I turned over my credit card to the care of my father, but when I took it back to buy gasoline, I held onto it, and the spending continued. For example, instead of buying groceries, I would go out to eat at restaurants.

Eating at restaurants became a double-edged sword. On one front, I felt guilty about spending money I didn't have. On another front, I felt guilty about eating unhealthy food and in large quantities. This is where another facet of my addictive behavior comes into play.

I have struggled with eating disorders for the last few years, fluctuating from 140 pounds to 100 pounds and back with various stops along the way. I have restricted my food intake, I have binged and purged, and I have abused diet pills. Considering my guilt over spending nonexistent funds on food, my addiction's sneaky rationale, and my low self-esteem as it pertains to my body, I began to purge.

Purging made me feel better. I hate vomiting when I'm sick and hated vomiting after too much drinking, but forcing myself to throw up the food I ate made me feel accomplished. I felt like I was doing something about my weight instead complaining about it. I'd been attempting to make positive changes in my diet and was exercising more, but purging made me feel I was taking things to the next level. I was proving to myself just how much I wanted to be thin. I was doing whatever it took to be thin. And like dedicated athletes and artists, wasn't it courageous to sacrifice all for one's goals?

That's addict rationale, as far as I can tell.

When I don't have to come up with reasons for why I'm doing something, it's probably a good thing. When I fabricate excuses and twist my thinking into something that benefits the choice I've made, I'm probably doing something wrong. No one ever said recovery would be easy, but the changes we're encouraged to make don't require analysis and lists of pros and cons (with few excepts, I imagine). If I'm searching for the justification for my actions, I'm slipping into my old way of thinking, the idea that I can do no wrong because I can always find the right. It's bad for others to have eating disorders, but it's okay for me because I'm overweight, and the end justifies the means. Once I hit 120 pounds, I'll stop.

My psychologist gave me a copy of the book Life Without Ed with the assignment to journal about how I relate (or don't) after each section. We've discussed the possibility of seeing a dietician. But when she challenged me to abstain from purging for a week, I hesitated. I didn't want to do it. But I figured that since I had been able to abstain from drugs and alcohol, I could do the same for my developing eating disorder.

For the next few days, I fought through my burning desire to purge. I had made it six days and figured I was in the clear when I got into a fight with my brother, a body-builder and personal trainer, about what kind of food I was eating. I felt guilty and found myself in a place of desperation where I had three options: cut myself, use chemicals, or purge. I chose what I perceived to be the lesser of three evils and went home and forced myself to throw up.

I continue to struggle with purging. I think it's been four days since I last purged, but it feels like longer. Last night, I successfully beat the urge, though I had every intention of giving in (thank Jesus for His strength that comes through even when I don't ask for it).

Then there's sex. I never considered myself - my real self - to be a sexual person. I thought it was a product of my alcohol abuse. Nearly all my sexual encounters were initiated through the use of chemicals, and I only wrote adult fiction after I'd been drinking. Sober, I was nonsexual. But in lieu of chemicals, my body has been looking for a new way to produce that feeling of happiness. This has resulted in a lot of sexual compulsion. I'm happy to report that I have not been acting on every impulse, and my behavior has not been what I'd consider to be promiscuous. I have limited myself to one partner. However, I know my sexual activity is not in accordance with the expected behavior of a woman who is in early recovery. I am expected to abstain from new relationships for a year (as I may have previously mentioned; who the fuck knows what I write in these blogs?), and having sex is, like, the second furthest thing from what I should be doing (the first, of course, being using chemicals).

And that brings us to Bad Behavior Number Four. Diet pills. Over the last forty days, I've used diet pills off and on. I've been warned repeatedly to not take them. I've signed a contract stating that I would not use them. Yet, once again, I've rationalized. I can use them because I can be responsible. Other people shouldn't be allowed to use them because they would probably be using addictive pills and abusing them. My pills are good, and I won't abuse them. Plain and simply, my rationalizing is bullshit. I am not unique. That's something I need to remind myself of daily.

I am not the first person to think that it's okay to make lots of credit card purchases. Having material possessions does not equal happiness. It's not okay for others, and it's not okay for me.

I am not the first person to think that it's okay to use pills to affect my body's chemistry. RATIONALIZING THE USE OF DIET PILLS IS ONE STEP AWAY FROM RATIONALIZING THE USE OF COCAINE. Again, being thin does not equal happiness. It's not okay for others, and it's not okay for me.

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