So. Remiss. In. Writing.
From the mid-August through the end of September, I did six weeks of hypnotherapy. I wanted to stop being overwhelmed by the desire to EAT ALL THE THINGS. It wasn’t just that I have a big appetite (though I do) or that I like fattening things (ditto)… it’s that there were times when it was like I was possessed by something that drove me to quickly eat things in large quantities even if it made me ill (like how for some reason cheap chocolate gives me a headache) and even if I was consciously thinking, “This isn’t good for me; I shouldn’t do it.”
And for the most part, it worked. From the very first session I have not raided the snack cabinet at work once, though it is filled with Reeses Peanut Butter Cups and my favorite crackers. (Oh, so good.) Not once, not even a nibble, when I used to eat half a cracker package in an afternoon. The other people who use the snack cabinet are mystified because there’s so much food in there, going so slowly. I have not told them why.
I am also better in general about hoovering up all available edibles. Sometimes it’s been difficult because I can’t decide if I’m hungry or if I just want to eat, and I have to sit and think about it for awhile. Sometimes that backfires and I get really hungry and it’s a little harder to eat mindfully. But it’s so very, very much better. I need to keep doing some self-hypnosis at home to keep it going.
It’s not like I’ve lost a bunch of weight, although I think I have a little — some things are just not so snug anymore. I’m certainly not gaining any, which had been a problem since the advent of the snack cabinet. I knew I couldn’t ask them not to have it anymore just because I couldn’t control myself, and anyway that obsessed feeling overtook me elsewhere sometimes as well.
I do feel more in control, like I can actually decide what and when to eat instead of being totally overcome by a passionate drive I was at the mercy of. This is a good thing.
I’m going back for three sessions on writer’s block. I grew up intending to be a writer. I told my mom stories before I could write and she’d transcribe them for me. I wrote and wrote and wrote throughout childhood, and then I got to high school and started reading really good writers, which gave me pause. I still wrote well enough to win an NCTE award (though they don’t seem to give the exact one I won anymore) but by the time I got to college I was utterly stymied. I could write papers, but my ability to write fiction was gone. I think the last story I finished was for a creative writing class during my brief stint at UC Davis. I was 19.
But as part of an ongoing life project, I’m going to do NaNoWriMo this year, and I’m going to finish, and I’m going to keep writing. Thankfully, though we live in a world that over-values the accomplishments of the young, writing is still something a person can do, and excel at, at any age. I have wasted half my life being intimidated by really good writers, worrying if someone will get mad at me for what I write, or feeling over self-conscious as I write. I’m going to do it. And if the result of the hypnotherapy on my compulsive eating is any guide, it will really help here. I finish the last session on November 1, the first day of NaNoWriMo. Good omen!