 |
Eugene's Story - From Hells Kitchen to Hollywood ending |
 |
A Current Affair Story - TFT on National Television |
Food Battles
KAREN PICCINOTTI
All of my life I had struggled with food, what to eat, when to eat, body size, weight, diets, self.
Now that struggle is over for me, I eat a sensible healthy diet, have no out-of-control feeling about food, eat only when I’m hungry, have eliminated cravings, guilt and obsession about food. I have developed a healthy relationship with food, finding new pleasures in reasonable eating and at last the taste of freedom, that taste being more delicious than any piece of chocolate, more satisfying than any meal I have ever eaten. Every kilo not lost was failure. Every time I looked in the mirror I saw – ‘marred’,‘flawed’, ‘out of control’, ‘no self discipline’, ‘no pride’. The fat was solid, thick, masculine, heavy. It was not me. I was in there, somewhere, buried in the blubber. I couldn’t feel my bones or see them. There was so much flesh.
I stopped looking at myself; no full length mirrors for me. No glances at my reflection as I walked by the supermarket window or shop front stores, just a small bathroom mirror that gave an approval of hair, teeth, and eyes – the face could be safe. What to wear! There was no freedom with clothes. Those big arms, those fat arms, had to be hidden. Let’s welcome winter, big sweaters, and heavy coats to hide it all. Summer is for thin people, slim people who could wear bathing suits, bikinis, shorts, midriff tops, short dresses, tank tops, play on the beach, relax by the pool and look good. I had a big stomach that bulged out; so I covered it with a big shirt.
No comfort in clothes with zippers, I feel squeezed in, can’t bend over because all the fat is in the way. Panty hose rip on the way up - too much fat to squeeze in. Sweat, sweat, sweat in hot weather and fat feels hot like an extra layer of clothes. I see a nice fitted top, can’t wear it because all that fat would be exposed. There are no smooth lines down the back. I wanted those smooth lines. I remember thunder thighs, saddle bags, great descriptions for deposits of fat. Huge hips. Sit down and spread out all over the chair. I would see something in the shop I really liked. One day I’ll fit into it, I just know I will. What harm would it do to buy it now? Be ready for when that extra weight is gone. It’s only three sizes too small. Quick, find a new diet that promises the world.
There was always something inside of me that could not be calmed. There was something that even food could not keep down. All my life, hurt, sadness, pain, regret,loneliness, fear and panic worked their way to the surface, and food was never enough And by lunchtime it begins again, bread, cookies, chips, nuts, chocolate bars. Just a few! They’re not very big are they? The bag is empty, finished and so am I, a loser, another diet that lasted a morning, an afternoon or maybe a few days. The drive to stuff food in my mouth, to eat and eat and eat and feel some calm to push down all the upsets wins once again.
I just wanted to have one day that I felt safe about food, that I didn’t have to worry or plan about how much, or when, or what to eat. I wanted not to obsess about food or fantasise about food. Little girl, big girl I remember my mother always smelled good. There was a kind of sweet soft fragrance that clung to her clothes and followed her around the house. She always looked perfect, tidy, neat, and lean, nothing out of place. She would zip up her dress and look perfect. No lines, no bulges. I want to look just like you, Mom. I don’t want to be fat, Mom. I don’t want to suffer. I don’t want to struggle.
By the time I was a teenager I was bigger in size than my mom. So the longing I had as a child to look like my mother became a kind of a torture. Never could I wear those clothes; I was always too big. My mother was never interested in food. At meal times she would have very tiny portions, NEVER ate between meals, NEVER over indulged. My grandmother would bake beautiful cakes, and when I was a little girl I could hardly wait to have a piece or two and then sneak back and slice little pieces and hope that no-one would notice the cake disappear. I never saw my mother eat those cakes. How did she do it? She was never, never interested. I never felt ‘filled up’. Even in those young early days the ‘filled up’ button was not working. My grandmother was full figured, soft and plump, and loved to cook. The house smelled of her pasta dishes, bread, polenta, chicken cacciatore, cakes and pies. Food and eating were essential to being Italian. I latched onto my grandmother and all that cooking and ate all that was offered and more. In those moments I sometimes felt safe. Sometimes I felt the world around me was soft and warm, but that feeling would never last. There was always something inside of me that could not be calmed. There was something that even food could not keep down. All my life, hurt, sadness, pain, regret, loneliness, fear and panic worked their way to the surface, and food was never enough.
I discovered I am fat! When did I really find out I was fat? I remember that official day: it was when I was in grade four in Mr. White’s classroom,
Before
After
I was the fattest girl in the class. Announced in front of the class: the girl who weighs the most is Karen
on the best I could. What was this monster inside of me? Where did it come from? No relief in sight. Little did I know, but at that time I was totally addicted to sugar and it was playing havoc with all systems in my body. By this time, my health was at a crisis, I had a total thyroidectomy, two surgical removals of tumours in my head and a complete mental and emotional breakdown. I spent time in bed; eyes closed trying to make the world go away. There was nothing to ease the pain and nothing to ease the panic. I was still consuming lots of wheat, sugar and dairy foods. These were the foods central to my diet, and I didn’t think for a moment that they could be responsible for any of my problems. I always felt, tired, awful, fat, bloated, old, with no energy. Why do I constantly have to eat and eat and eat? Why is my body size so out of control? Those answers were to come slowly over the years as I learned about the relationship between food and anxiety. What I wanted more than anything else was for food to be a “no issue”, something that was not always on my mind. At this time in my life a somewhat unusual therapy came to my attention and eventually changed the whole “eat to feel good cycle” forever – Thought Field Therapy.
The first distinction that I was able to make was that I was eating because I was upset and not because I was hungry. My hope was that if these upsets could be–eliminated or even greatly reduced, then this whole cycle of overeating and the addiction to food would stop. I began to explore this unusual therapy and used TFT to eliminate fear, panic, anxiety, phobias, cravings, self loathing, gluttony and all other problems associated with overeating and dieting. The technique was simple to learn, easy to apply and most important of all, it worked! A sensible eating program was now easy to follow, binge eating was a thing of the past and all my obsessions about food disappeared. Years later, eating is still easy and enjoyable. I am at ease now with food. There is no battle to be fought. Food is not constantly on my mind. I feel nourished by the food I choose to eat. I do not sabotage myself any more. My ‘that’s enough’ button works perfectly. My journey to safety with food is complete.
Karen Piccinotti is a Director of Thought Field Therapy Australia
and creator of “The Last Diet™” program.