The Inconvenient Truth Behind My Sugar Addiction

Hi, my name is Heather and I am addicted to sugar. Not just any kind of sugar; sugar in the form of any type of chocolate. Except Hershey's. That shit tastes like plastic to me. But give me Snickers, brownies, Lindt truffles, homemade chocolate chip cookies, and chocolate raspberry cake and I'll be happy. Temporarily, anyway.

At the height of my addiction, I was having something sweet after every meal. Yes, even after breakfast. Sometimes it was my breakfast. I also had sugary sweetness in between meals as my snacks. And during the holidays? Hell, double that. The scary thing is, I was able to justify it all with the fact that I eat relatively healthy (lots of greens and veggies), I don't care about alcohol or weed, and I've never done any hard drugs, nor do I want to. But sugar? Why the hell not? It's socially acceptable and hidden in foods you'd never think to put it in. And to put the cherry on top, you won't ever kill anyone from gorging and driving.

While I may not kill anyone else, though, I can sure as day kill myself. One day, I noticed my joints were beginning to feel really inflamed, which didn't make any sense to me since I'd been practicing yoga religiously for about three months. Other issues then started surfacing so I decided to Google my symptoms. Want to know what I found? I was on the road to early on-set diabetes, arthritis, and I definitely had full fledged candidiasis. Wonderful. I was slowly but surely sabotaging my youthful health. While I do know that the internet can sometimes blow things out of proportion, it scared me nevertheless and I knew something seriously had to change.

I've done a lot of work into understanding this addiction, and over the years I've discovered many of the reasons why I choose to numb out with sugar. My relationship with this substance started at a very young age: I grew up with chocolate constantly lying around the house, made easier by the fact that my grandma on my dad's side owned a chocolate shop up in Rexburg, Idaho. This meant unlimited access to free goodies, especially on each major holiday, which all of us always looked forward to.

[Side note: seriously though, they are the best damn chocolates I have ever had the pleasure of tasting. They are all hand-dipped and ten times better than See's, in my opinion--and I love See's. If you want to try them for yourself or give a delicious gift to your loved ones for the holidays, check them out here]

Aside from simply having it around, I often times had to sneak it, seeing as I'd get in trouble with my parents by being too much of a pig. Countless nights I would stay awake until everyone else was asleep, quietly slink down the top bunk, and claw my way through the dessert drawer, careful not to make any noise. It became habitual, and something I could claim all to myself. It felt like a triumph to get away with eating the last of the mouth-watering Reisens without anyone knowing or calling me out on it.

Once I developed into my later teenage years and started becoming more spiritual, the deeper and more emotional reasons began making themselves more clear to me. Back then, I hated myself, never felt like I fit in, and was wildly insecure, so I used sugar to avoid feeling or thinking about my pain. It was an escape, a temporary high to make me forget my problems. But they would always come back, and I'd start all over again to try and fill the gaping holes inside of me.

I've come a long way since I first began my journey to wholeness, but I've not yet been truly able to let go of my attachments to this affliction. After a short ebb, it has once again reared it's ugly head in full flow, and I'm now left with two choices: truly get to the bottom of why I have cravings and stop eating so much of it, or continue the way I've been going and end up fat, sick, and nearly dead--hah.

Naturally, I've chosen to make it my focus to heal this part of my psyche, even though mostly out of necessity. This choice led me to ask for help: help with better understanding myself, help with letting go and surrendering whatever it is that keeps me in this vicious cycle, help with being gentler with myself when I slip up and binge, and help with accepting myself exactly as I am, right now.

Like it always does, the Universe beautifully provides exactly what I need, in it's own divinely timed fashion. This past week, I had a conversation with a friend who has battled an alcohol and drug addiction, and has been through years of AA and soul searching in order to get back to a healthy, balanced lifestyle. She had so many amazing nuggets to share, and though she was speaking of her own experience with a different substance, her words struck me profoundly and shed a much needed light on my own. I was finally able to make a connection between my greatest fear and my greatest frustration.

She helped me realize that I abuse sugar when I feel two things in particular: when I feel unworthy, and when I feel fear. Not just any kind of fear; fear regarding opening myself up to be vulnerable with a man, fear regarding loving and being loved, fear of being hurt the same way I was in my past, fear of being seen for all of my beauty and all of my flaws, and the fear of eventually losing that love and not being enough. The thought of falling deeply in love with someone scares me more than anything else in this world. I can no longer deny (with additional help from the signs my body has given me) that I am absolutely, positively terrified...more than I was willing to admit to myself before that fateful chat.

Uncovering this fear led to the realization that I harshly judge the men I'm attracted to, finding every possible thing I can wrong so that I write off all possibility of dating them. It keeps me safe: if I judge them first, they can't get close enough to hurt me or leave me. I also noticed that I judge other people's relationships, only paying attention to the dysfunctions they appear to have and wondering why on Earth they stay together. The problem with this way of looking at it (other than being a plain ol' dick), is that it feeds into my own dysfunctional belief that I have to be perfect in order to be loved, and that I must hold a man to an unreasonable and impossible standard of perfection to match my own. I will never be perfect, and I can't expect my future man to be, either.

I sometimes get caught in the trap of thinking that I've overcome all of my issues, never to have to deal with them again. But life is wise and usually tends to find a way to bring me to my knees when my ego gets the best of me. I am reminded (not always so gracefully) that I am never completely done, but that at the very least it will never be quite as intense as it was the last go round. With each cycle, I become stronger and cultivate better tools to deal with the demons that resurface, but that's it.

I'm done lying to myself. I'll never have everything figured out, and I might not ever be completely rid of my core triggers. All I can ask of myself is an acute awareness of when they show up, and the softness to love away each new layer. My friend graced me with two incredible gifts; the gift of understanding myself more profoundly, and the gift of a new perspective on life: progress, not perfection.

Right now, my addiction is real, but so is my ability to surrender and choose something else. I'm taking it one day at a time. I don't know what tomorrow will hold, but today, I choose freedom.

                                                        Photo credit: Beloved Festival

Broken & Beautiful

Relationships and people of all kinds and depths can sometimes be really, really difficult (which is putting it mildly), because they can show you without a whole lot of grace, where you need to grow and do some serious soul searching.

I will begin by prefacing this to the best of my abilities, by admitting that I have always, always wanted to present myself to the world as someone who has it all together...as someone who is constantly grounded and at peace with themselves, as someone whose confidence never waivers, as someone who knows everything and has all the answers for every situation that arises, whether it's mine or someone else's, and especially as someone who isn't broken in any way, shape, or form. So much of my suffering in this life has come from this overwhelming need to keep myself "safe" and appear perfect in the eyes of others at all costs.

A beautiful angel in human form recently came into my life to help wake me up from the illusion of perfection I've tried so hard all my life to maintain with a resounding, painful slap to the face. After the shock of said slap, nauseating anger welled up inside of my belly like molten lava, about ready to erupt and cause irreparable damage to everyone and every thing in its path. I hadn't felt anger like this since I was a teenager, which angered me even further because I thought I had surpassed all of it. I was angry for many reasons; for being reminded of childhood hurts, for feeling underestimated and patronized, but most of all, I was angry for being seen for who I actually was instead of who I wanted to project, and this person triggered one of my deepest and most powerful insecurities--the belief that I am not good enough.

Then came the shame, because I realized that I have participated in this type of dynamic for my entire life, all the while being blind and unable to understand why none of the boys I liked ever liked me back. Until now, I had always blamed it on the other person for not seeing my greatness, but this whole time it has been me not seeing or believing my own. I can now see with painful clarity how this one deep-seeded belief has shaped my entire world...all the not-so-graceful experiences and how I reacted to them. Because of this belief, I have tried over and over again with embarrassing desperation to prove my worth and "lovability" to absolutely no avail. On the flip side, because of this belief I have used my body as a way to gain a twisted sense of power over people who were attracted to me and not vice versa. I said yes to people I wanted and needed to say no to, all because it was enough to feel like someone wanted me. Now I know it was only just one more way of trying to prove my worth to myself and the world. "See guys?? Someone wants me...I AM lovable!" Sigh.

There's been lots of breaking happening in my life these days; an angel in England broke my heart open, and now another angel has seen right through my walls and broken them down from the outside in, so that I may begin to heal myself from the inside out. The truth is, there are parts of me that are undeniably broken. My room is often in a state of chaos, I use sugar to mask my emotional pain, I sometimes try too hard and search for outside validation to make myself feel better. I often procrastinate and ignore my soul's urges to express itself through art in any of its forms, I sometimes smudge the truth of how I feel in the presence of others, I greatly fear intimacy and vulnerability, and I just flat out have daddy issues. I'm so tired; tired of being angry, tired of blaming others, tired of feeling the need to shove all of my accomplishments and positive attributes in people's faces, tired of feeling unlovable, and above all, I'm tired of using so much precious energy to maintain a facade that is inauthentic in order to avoid the pain of someone judging my brokenness. I surrender...I don't want this anymore,

After ruminating over this for a while and finally having acknowledged and accepted the darkest parts of myself, ironically I feel just a little less broken...that maybe there is a certain beauty and strength in admitting my deepest fears out loud where everyone can see and hear them. I feel much more grounded in my authentic self now that I know I don't have to try so damn hard and have started to let go of my walls and all the pain that made me put them there. I feel naked and bare and raw and scared, but I know that this feels right. My work is far from being done, but this little bud is beginning to bloom and shine a little bit brighter.

I don't always have it all together and I don't always feel grounded or at peace, and I sometimes doubt myself and the extent of my true capabilities. But here's to daring to believe that I am enough, exactly as I am...broken and beautiful.

Usually the words inspire the art, but this time the art inspired the words. 

Mixed media, November 2014

The Consequences of Having an Open Heart

Every single one of us on this beautiful Earth of ours goes through painful experiences, whether it's pain caused by family, friends, a boyfriend or girlfriend, bullies, or a mixture of all of these and more, no one escapes this life unscathed. As a result, most of us learn to start guarding our hearts and to withdraw by either isolating ourselves or lashing out, finding any way possible to dull the pain and prevent it from ever hurting to the same degree it did the first time.

As I grew up, I did a bit (ok...a lot) of both. I became very withdrawn emotionally, never letting anyone get too close, and I lashed out at the very people I should have been seeking comfort from. I continued to isolate myself by concealing my pain with lying, stealing, cheating on my tests at school (and getting caught), forging my parent's signatures, overeating, and making myself very unpopular by having absolutely no tact when speaking to others. This is how I chose to guard my heart as a young girl. Instead of letting life open me up to the world, I shrunk down and hid in fear of further pain.  

As I became older, I started attracting people, things and experiences that slowly but surely started helping me see things from a different perspective…that maybe the way I’d been doing things was causing myself and others more harm than good. One day I came across one of the most beautiful quotes I have ever read, by way of a simple yet gorgeous painting done my by stepmother. It read:

“And the day came when the pain of remaining tight in a bud was greater than the risk it took to open.” –Anais Nin. 

This quote shook me to my very core and I resonated with its meaning in such a profound way, that it has remained in the forefront of my mind ever since I first lay eyes on it. It was one of the catalysts that made me realize that I was in more pain by cutting myself off from the world around me and staying safe than I was by adventuring out into it with open arms.

Although this quote (among other beautiful pieces of writing) inspired me to become more open, the change wasn’t about to happen overnight. I started branching out as best I knew how to other people by way of school activities, youth groups, being on sports teams...and then onto studying abroad and traveling to places I’d only ever read about, meeting people from various parts of the world and learning a new language, and eventually falling in love with a different country than the one I grew up in. All of this helped me slowly start to trust that not everything would go to hell if I had a genuine feeling or two.  

This year, however, has been a milestone year for me in the sense that I’ve consistently attracted people and experiences that have pushed me far beyond the comfort zones I’ve surrounded myself with since I was a little girl. I’ve been forced to grow, change, and bare my soul to others in ways that I never thought I would, and to become more comfortable with the uncomfortable. While I’ve had a lot of practice this year and have improved tremendously, I still have a long way to go. I do feel, though, that I made some impressive progress this past week while visiting a friend in England.

Before leaving for this beautiful place, I was in huge resistance for reasons I will refrain from mentioning, but no matter what was going on on the surface of this resistance, I think deep down my ego subconsciously knew that something major was about to happen. When I arrived in the very lush, green, southwest part of England, the resistance had faded away, and what awaited me was a group of some of the most amazing individuals I have yet come across in this lifetime.

I don’t quite understand what happened on an intellectual level or why it happened when it did, but all I know is that this group of people cracked my heart wide open and nestled themselves snugly into the very depths of the chasm they unknowingly created. I explored and reveled in these connections with an openness unparalleled to anything I’ve ever let myself experience, and I felt with an intensity I never thought possible. I laughed and cried and listened and shared and laughed some more. I was incomprehensibly open, open to feel every single emotion that went through me: surprise, happiness, lust, love, joy, gratitude, twinges of jealousy, judgment, confusion, awe, fear, embarrassment, upset, attachment, discomfort, and intrigue…And I let myself feel without needing to feel anything other than what I was feeling in that moment. I almost didn’t recognize myself, and it still feels a bit surreal to have watched myself fall in love with these people without more than a second’s notice.

And then I left them, as is custom when you are only visiting, and it wasn’t until I made my departure that I realized how much of myself I had left behind with them…that I left a piece of my heart with every single one of those gorgeous people, and for the first time in a really long time, my heart broke. And the thing about heartbreak is that it hurts like a bitch. These things called tears trickled down my cheeks at random times throughout the day as I thought about how much I already missed them, and for a short time I was angry for allowing myself to become so attached.

This…this is what I realized I have always been afraid of, and why I have continually kept most people at an arm’s distance. I’ve been terrified of making extremely meaningful connections and falling in love with someone, only to then feel their absence so profoundly when you or the other person leaves (either by force or by choice). It is incredibly scary to give your heart to someone and surrender a life of comfort, not knowing whether or not it will last, because it makes you vulnerable and incredibly susceptible to copious amounts of pain and heartbreak. Until now, I didn’t think I would be able to handle it…but that’s part of what makes this so important; I learned that I can feel both joy and pain deeply and still come out alive, if not more so, on the other side. I learned that while I’ve always resented the fact that I’ve attracted emotionally unavailable men, it’s me who’s been emotionally unavailable this whole entire time.

So here’s the most important thing I learned in England this time around, in a nutshell: there are consequences to living life with an open heart, and those consequences hurt…big time. But here’s the clincher—it’s worth it, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. If I would have kept my heart twice as guarded to avoid the pain, I would have felt half the joy, half the passion, and half the happiness, and what’s the fun in that? Now that I’ve experienced life like this, I can never truly go back to being as guarded and hesitant as I once was…it just wouldn’t be good enough. I want to fully embrace everything this life has to offer…the good and the bad, the ups and the downs, the triumphs and the losses. I want to give the world my whole heart and soul, even when it doesn’t make any sense, and risk looking like a fool for love. I want to be able to look back when I'm old and grey and take solace in knowing that I truly lived. I know now that my heart is strong enough to brave the calm and the storms of this life.

The day has come; I no longer want to remain tight in a bud.