Healthy Living

My Journey with Food Fixation

by Joy Bach 
03/21/24
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Money was scarce during my childhood.  That meant we ate food that was cheap, like bread, potatoes and macaroni and cheese.  We rarely had fruit and our vegetables came out of a can.  But even though I ate a lot of carbs, my weight was only one hundred forty in grade school.  I had to walk so many blocks to get there and back…even walking home for lunch…that I wasn’t terribly overweight.  

Breakfast was always oatmeal and burnt toast.  Lunch consisted of a hamburger patty and boiled potato.  Variety became available when my mother and I walked to the library, pulling a wagon.  In the basement were crates of cans.  Not just any cans.  These were dented and had no labels.  We loaded our wagon with these food surprises and pulled it home.  So, we never knew what we were having for supper until we opened the can.  My least favorite was succotash.  But mother had a rule.  You ate what was on your plate.  All of it.  She would prepare my plate and set it in front of me.  She never sat at the table with me, just supervised.  

Thus began my food fixation.  Food was an issue.  

My father died within hours of my birth.  When I was eleven, my brother joined the Navy, so it was just mother and me.  She rarely spoke to me, unless it was to point out a failing on my part.  And since we lived in two upstairs bedrooms, I had no spot where I was free from her constant surveillance.  But occasionally, during the warmer months, we would walk to the store, buy a pint of ice cream, bring it home, cut it in half and sit on the porch steps to eat it.  Even though she really wasn’t talking, we were together.  Ice cream became a focal point in my life.  When would she suggest a walk to the store to buy ice cream again?  

Another food fixation.

Our legalistic church also contributed to my food issue.  Most activities were sins. Emotions seemed to be evil.  Sermons focused on the dangers of going to hell.  One way to get there was to smoke, drink or do drugs.  Our bodies were the temple of God, and we were to take care of it.  These words were repeated by evangelists coming through town.  Even though I was not allowed to question anything, I did wonder why the very overweight speaker thought he was taking care of God’s temple.  But it was made very clear, overeating was permitted.  Any time you were stressed or overwhelmed, you could find comfort in food.  

More food fixation. This set me up for a lifetime of struggle.

Today, I understand that food fixation is a sin.  Does that make you uncomfortable?  It sure did me when I became aware I was addicted.  But look at it this way…when we are controlled by something other than the Spirit of God, that is sin.  And boy, was I!

Just think, the first lie in the universe was centered on food.

And so, for many years, I fought the urge to overeat.  I thought I was having a battle with my will.  Only recently did I come to the realization that I was in a spiritual war.  My adversary was not calories, but the devil.  My issue was idolatry.  

As you read these words, you may think I’m blowing everything way out of proportion.  But if you’ve fought this battle, you understand.  Proverbs 23:2 says “…and put a knife to your throat if you are given to gluttony.”  (NIV) Sounds like it might be a big deal.

Addictive behavior is when any substance such as alcohol, drugs or FOOD becomes your major focus and has begun to harm your health.  I was addicted, but just didn’t recognize it.

In the early 1970’s my world imploded.  My husband left and one of my sisters died at the age of forty-two.  She was obese.  The doctor told me her heart just couldn’t pump her blood through all that anymore.  I struggled to maintain my sanity.  She had been like a mom to me.  And I had never worked outside the home before.  I knew my health was an issue but had nothing left to deal with the needed modifications.  It was two years later before I could look at my habits and make changes in my lifestyle to try to control my weight.  

First, I moved halfway across the United States to attain a fresh start.  

When I implemented my lifestyle changes, it had a huge impact on my children, affecting their lives too.  One of the first things I did was to stop eating dinner.  I would work all day, come home, change clothes and then go for a walk; sometimes up to seven miles.  My instructions to them, “While I’m gone, you are to fix your own dinner, eat and clean it up before I get home.”

That modification in our routine was an act of desperation on my part.  In two years, I lost almost one hundred pounds.  But I couldn’t have done it without my children’s cooperation.  That adjustment took care of one aspect of my quandary.  Believe me, there were still many more to conquer.  

As a single mom and receiving a very low-paying income, I fought against turning to my drug of choice…food…for comfort. Again, we had to eat what was inexpensive.  It’s a fine line between nutrition and feeling full. It was also important to me that my girls did not feel our lack of money.  I became very creative in ways to celebrate birthdays, etc.  And I implemented a routine for Sunday dinner.  I would make a nice meal and they could invite anyone they wanted to join us.  I hoped that made up for my absence at mealtime during the week.  

When I began dating my future husband, John, he took me out to eat a lot.  Another trick I had learned was to always leave something on my plate.  This was difficult for me.  I felt I was wasting food and money, but that way I couldn’t have seconds…or dessert.  One day he finally asked about my unusual behavior, so I explained about my food issue and that was one way to control it.  I wasn’t sure he understood.  

But my thoughts were never far from food.  For instance, if he mentioned on Tuesday he was going to take me out to a specific restaurant on Friday, I would begin an inordinate occupation with thoughts of what I might have to eat. I would plan in my head exactly what I desired.  If, on Thursday, he changed his mind and said a different restaurant, that threw me into a mental tizzy.  I could not handle a change in venue.  But he never knew.  When I got home after the meal, I would wait until the kids had gone to bed, then I would eat some more, trying to satisfy that image in my head of the food I had missed out on.

It became apparent to me that I could not handle going to potlucks or buffets.  I needed a limited amount of food set before me and then no more options.  Again, I tried to explain that to John.  He could not comprehend what I was dealing with.  Sometimes our talks lasted late into the night. I felt very selfish for needing my own way.  That feeling only made me want to eat.  

It was a vicious cycle.  I had no one in my life I could talk to about this, so I struggled alone.  

When John and I married, I discovered he expected me to sit down and eat dinner with him even though he knew I did not eat dinner with my kids.  Once again, I tried to help him understand my dilemma.  I finally agreed to eat dinner.  Within weeks I had gained twenty pounds.  It just wasn’t working.  

“John, I cannot continue to eat dinner with you.  I will sit down and visit while you eat.  But I’ve gained twenty pounds since we married.  I’m not willing to gain weight for you.”

That went over big.  We went to counseling.  The very slender young man sitting across from us suggested to me, “Just eat a salad.  Just a small amount of something.  You aren’t going to gain weight doing that.”  

My response: “If I was an alcoholic would you suggest I take just one drink?  Once I start, I won’t stop.”  He didn’t get it.  Side note:  I saw him several years later.  He was overweight.  Maybe he understood then.  

It took several years before our marriage was on solid ground, but finally the issue was resolved.

I began to be aware of patterns in my life.  I would stop and ask myself, “Why do I want to eat right now?  Will eating solve my problem?”  Sometimes I could answer satisfactorily, sometimes I ate any way.  I learned to be very aware of my triggers.  If I do this, then that will happen.  If I go there, I will be seduced by the atmosphere, company, or many other stimuli.  If I eat one cookie, then I will eat five. I embodied an insatiable appetite for not just food, but the process of chewing, savoring and making sure there was always something crunchy included.  

I could never let my guard down.

A lesson I learned: gluttony is often assumed to be associated with gorging obscene amounts of food.  But that’s not the whole picture.  It’s the failure to enjoy food as God intended.  Even after I had just consumed a meal, I was already thinking of the next one.

I created Excel spreadsheets to track my weight loss.  I would do a great job, sometimes losing weight for a few months.  Then something would trigger a reaction and up went the line on my chart.  I initiated a food diary, writing down anything I consumed that contained calories.  When I was embarrassed to enter my consumption, I knew I had blown it.  I laid my journal on the kitchen counter available for anyone to read.  That gave me pause before I indulged, aware others might see it.  

I have a file folder full of my past charts.  In October of 1995 I weighed 176.  I notice that in the 2008s I maintained in the 150s.  I have cycled between the 170s and 160s for years.  A few times I was briefly in the 150s.  I’ve also been as high as 189.  

John joined a protein diet program, so I did too.  I lost eighteen pounds but did not feel it was a healthy way to treat my body.  For instance, no fruit.  I’ve decided that diets don’t work.  I’ve watched many friends lose the weight while on the diet, only to gain it back when they were on their own.  And I firmly believe the advent of diet food and drink has caused our population to gain.  For me, there is something in the diet chemicals that makes me crave food.  

I’ve had some food in my home that continued to call to me.  I’ve been known to go to the refrigerator, take it out to the garage and throw it in the dumpster trash can.  Even if I wanted to, I didn’t think I could crawl in and get it back. I’ve also taken the culprit and put it in my kitchen trash, making sure it was below something particularly messy.  I would be very aware it was in there, but just wouldn’t stoop low enough to dig it out.  That doesn’t mean I didn’t think about it. 

One routine I began a few years ago has helped me greatly.  Friday is my “free” day.  I can eat what I want.  Go out to eat.  Have dessert.  If I begin craving something during the week, I tell myself I can have it on Friday.  I like Fridays.

I have a great affinity for those who are addicted.  It’s not as simple as just quitting.  

And there are those people who do not understand.  At a potluck, when I am not partaking but enjoying the company, they hand me a plate and explain it’s time for me to eat.  They even argue.  I’ve heard a term that describes those people.  Food Pushers.  Or those who invite me out to eat…to a buffet.  My issue has caused some uncomfortable conversations and sometimes hard feelings.  I’m very sorry about that.  

As I worked on writing this the past few days, it has triggered my desire to eat.  I’m holding strong but know it’s a slender thread I’m hanging on to.  And so, I’ve pondered why I have been feeling for several months that I needed to write this. For me?  For someone else?  I’m sure there are others who feel they are in this struggle alone.  

I have not been delivered.

But I am much wiser as I travel this journey.  I avoid my triggers.  I’m aware of food pushers.  When I have eaten to physical fullness, I’ve learned to stop eating even though there is more on my plate…or some desserts I would like to enjoy.  I no longer obsess over food.  Giving myself a day to eat whatever I want has allowed me freedom in my choices.  I may or may not lose the ten to fifteen pounds I’ve set my sights on.  I have peace about that.

What concentrating on this has done for me is to point me even more strongly to Jesus.  I have a stronghold and only He can break it down.