All Bottled Up

On Addiction and the Dark Side of the Hairball

Recovery is "one day at a time" for a reason. It’s because it requires a realignment of psyche. We have to give up our own plans, ask for guidance from a higher power and be willing to do footwork. "Faith is in your feet," a good friend of mine always says.

I remember when I couldn’t stop eating. People who have never craved food compulsively can’t understand what it’s like to think about food all day and not be able to stop. Do you know what it’s like to get up at three a.m. on a cold winter night, throw on your coat over your pajamas, and run to the grocery store in the pouring rain for more food, when you’ve just eaten three pizzas? It’s the worst nightmare; the self-loathing is unthinkable. When I finally passed through this horror show after five years of intensive work on myself, I felt like I’d had an exorcism, that something had been removed from my very cells.

It’s easy to criticize overweight people if you’ve never been one. But, for fat people the put downs hurt double, because you’re already judging yourself harshly. So, what changed me? What transformation caused me to no longer overeat? What was removed? I finally understood there was a crying little girl inside me, like a baby who hadn’t gotten enough milk. That child was a good, innocent person who was starved, afraid she’d die from failure to thrive, from the desperate need to be fed, held and soothed.

Years of hard work later, after therapy, diets and exercise, I see myself still craving more money, more attention. I always want more of something, never feel filled. Wouldn’t I be happier with a man with more intellect or better communication skills? Gawd, the terrible disappointment when I get what I want but I’m still not satisfied! The same sorrow I had when I shed tears over chocolate cake, because I knew that as soon as I finished eating, it would no longer cheer me. There was no love in that flour and water—it was more like paste. Now, every choice I make is faced the same way: With the realization that no partner, no material thing, can ever be enough for this deprived kid.

Some single people live with this longing, that maybe the next person, just around the corner, will be the one; then they will be fulfilled. I know married people have it too, but they live with it secretly in their hearts or have affairs. This way of thinking is like shopping for a partner in a department store. I know, because love addiction followed me like a shadow after I kicked overeating. Addictions don’t disappear; they just take new forms.

Then, there’s this compulsion called codependency, which can drive you stark raving mad. Just when you think you’re helping someone, they stab you in the back or drain all your energies like a vampire. Where to find that line between generosity of spirit and unhealthy sacrifice? When do you give and when do you set limits? We want play victim, when we know we’re the ones letting them suck our blood! It’s a crucifixion of confusion, not knowing how much love to give and when to draw a line. Approach and avoidance do a vicious tango.

My mother never seemed content with my dad. Her longing is my legacy. Her yearning for more from her partner covered up her own emptiness, an infinitely deep, bottomless hole, from centuries of not being seen or respected as a woman, of being abused and put down by her father and not having a life of her own. In the end, Mom, a brilliant, talented woman, could not manifest her own creative self. With her self-expression blocked, she turned in on herself and died curled up in a ball, scared to go out into the world, sucking on cigarettes until she suffocated in her own smoke.

What happened? The little girl inside her never had enough validation, comfort or support. It’s true that she didn’t know how to give that to herself; and neither did my dad. She didn’t know where to get it; she only knew longing.

In this culture of attack mentality and self-flagellation, addictions of all kinds are easy to turn to. I don't think any of us are immune to workaholism, smoking, sex or love compulsions, isolation, shutting down, over or under-eating, drugs and alcohol—just to name a few!

How can we get the courage to dive down and find the real cure for our core issues? The only way to greater vitality is the truth. Finding our own balls is the task of a true hero. That’s why my book is called Hairball Diaries: The Courage to Speak Up. It’s time that we put intention on personal, political and spiritual change before it’s too late—whatever form that takes for each of us.

Write or talk about your troubles, find possible solutions and watch the bouncing ball. Do what you can to shift compulsive habits towards what is life giving. Take one tiny step towards change, be responsible, and remember: love is the real ballgame, the ball that’s in the air. A life of positive change means not dropping the ball, but keeping it in play. Recovery, personal and global, is work, comprised of small steps. Yeah, it’s work, but don’t forget to have fun—it’s the name of the game.

Hairball Helpers:

1. What are your primary addictions?
2. What are you running from?
3. What forward step might revitalize you?