Darn. I did that thing again I didn't want to do.

Do you ever do that?

I decided to do something about it, so I turned to Amazon Prime.

I typed THERAPIST in the search box.  To my disappointment, Amazon doesn’t offer therapists - yet.

So, I searched in my area and read multiple therapist profiles, studying their photos, but nixing most of them. Too young. Too male. Too serious.

I set my sights on a promising candidate. The vibe was good our first meeting. She was engaging, and I liked the sassy cat that walked over her keyboard. As a bonus she has a corgi dog that knows the exact moment to curl up on my lap.

I got a dog, and a therapist. Score.

The last time I tried therapy was to get me through a divorce.  

 I needed help exorcising the pain and hurt that had buried itself in my gut when my ‘then’ husband cooly articulated that he didn’t see me as the mother for the children he decided he wanted to have – apparently with someone else.

Ouch. There were so many nicer ways to ask for a divorce, but he skipped them all.  

My therapist then, Kate, helped me dislodge and puke up the ick in my gut, and I was able to embrace a fresh future.

During that time, I devoured ice cream, buttered popcorn, donuts, chocolate and other food to bury my emotions, because that’s a pattern I’d used since I was eight.

And as life proceeded, during sad and happy times, I reached for food to calm the chaos of life.  

But I’ve gotten weary of burying emotions with binge eating. I am not eight anymore.  So, I decided to kick that pattern out the door. And I thought, finally, I am so done with doing that.  

I am relieved, kind of like when watching guests depart after a function. Fun while it lasted, but then it’s time to clean up and get things back in order. To get life back on track.  

But darn it, if that pattern doesn’t just sneak right back into my life. It hides out in the shadows, ready to ambush me when I am tired, stressed or anxious. Then it appears and knocks me out with a swift punch.

Ambushed. Pow!

My brain’s ancient help line, the amygdala has taken over.

It overrides rational thinking.

And then I find myself making popcorn.  I plop down on the couch with my bowl and watch some mindless Netflix show. Once the popcorn is gone, I move onto ice cream.

I have unplugged from my life. Checked out. And I am comfortably numb.

I’ll restart being healthy later, I think.  

Maybe tomorrow.

And I promise myself; I will never do this again. This is the last time. I mean it.

That’s about when I jumped onto Amazon – deciding I might need a little extra professional support to sever the last tentacles of compulsive binge eating from my life. Maybe a therapist could help?

Around when I was eight years old, my mother began finding empty ice cream bowls under my bed. Food calmed me from feelings I was unable to express or articulate.  I pulled my emotions deep inside of me.

By the time I was in high school binge eating was embedded in me. And as I entered college compulsive binge eating was my daily coping mechanism - but at the same time it created havoc in my life. And my body weight reflected my food intake.

 I went to great lengths to hide my weight by wearing oversized clothing and wrapping my chest with bandages to flatten it every morning, believing a flat chest made me look leaner than I was.

To counter my binging, I ran laps after dark so no one would see me, but my attempt to negate the calories going into my body wasn’t working.

 I was stuck in a loop.

I lost days eating, obsessing about food, isolating and getting nothing done. Constantly behind, my anxiety increased, which led me to eat again to numb myself. The extreme hopelessness that comes with loss of control caused me to engage in suicidal thoughts.

After a binge, I swore I’d never eat specific foods again and I dieted. But ultimately, I’d lose control and find myself turning back to that exact food I’d forbidden myself.  

It was, and it is, a vicious cycle.

After college I started to educate myself on binge eating and methodically replaced out of control feasts with healthier choices. Real food and nutrition. No dieting. Normal exercise. I had to surgically remove each tentacle of this pattern from my life.

I still binged, but as I got healthier the binges weakened and they went from daily, to a few a week, to a few a month, to on average 2 times a month.  A slow process over many years.

Which brings me to today.

Last year I read Dopamine Nation, a book about how dopamine hits hijack your brain into desiring one specific thing to the detriment of your life. The author’s confession of secretly reading trashy romance novels was even an addiction. Who knew?

Dopamine is a powerful chemical. When it kicks in, you want more of it. Your brain remembers how good it felt. That’s why when I experienced stress my brain sought that ‘feel good’ dopamine hit I received from eating. It made me feel good at that moment.

But the day after a binge or engaging in a pattern that does not serve your life looks bleak. Restarts are exhausting.  And they can be depressing.

Does this ever happen to you with anything?

There is a myriad of behaviors in the world available to us that negatively impact our lives if they become a pattern or ‘addiction’; unplugging by scrolling social media, partaking in compulsive binge eating, checking out Instagram, playing video games, gambling, drinking alcohol, over exercising, shopping, or any repeated pattern that robs you of time, or of being present and tuned in to your life.   

For me, it feels as if I have come as far as I can on my own.  I read, study and learn what I can. I've replaced and changed habits. But I still occasionally break the promise to myself to never compulsively overeat.

Enter *Wendy, the therapist, and her dog.

Whatever happens, I know that the tentacles of this pattern are loosening by openly discussing something I’ve hidden and been ashamed of most my life. There is something healing about talking with an impartial human and dog, or a friend, that shines a light on one's behaviors and reasoning (or lack thereof) in doing things.

What pattern is interfering with living your life?

*Wendy Knowles is part of Bellevue Counseling