If you’ve read any of my prior posts, then you understand how critical my friend Ted has been to this process and journey.  His insights into his own mental peculiarities and treatments, his almost constant availability no matter how busy he might be, and his unending empathy have made it possible for me to lean heavily upon him.

Today he left SFO to head back to Ashland, where he had recently quit a job after a short stint.  I know he was conflicted about this, and as we chatted while he was at the airport and discussed our midlife crises.  I’d like to share part of our exchange:

Ted:  I still don’t know what I want to do for a living.  Although I’m leaning towards nothing.
Robin: Do we ever know what we want to be when we grow up?  Do we ever grow up?
Ted:  Really good points.
Robin:  I wish you many days piled under dogs and blankets that are restful and not filled with self questioning and dissatisfaction.
…
Robin: an observation  – let me share something about me first and see if it applies.

Long (slightly edited) monologue, Robin:
I have a thing about food and eating.  I’m an addict in so many ways, and food is one of those things.

When I was younger I would eat to feel better and consequently I was usually 15-25 pounds (135-145lbs) overweight through my teen years peaking at about 50 (170lbs) pounds overweight by the age of 20.  I lost most the weight around 21 by picking up smoking – easy to see how that worked for an addict.

Then from the age of 26 to 44 I would fluctuate between 120 to 140 pounds pretty regularly.  All of my pregnancies saw my weight skyrocket (+65lbs with Eliot, +10-20 with Missys 1-3, +50lbs with Auden).  It took me 18 months after Eliot to get to 130lbs.  After Auden I hovered around 135lbs for years.  Further weight-loss seemed impossible.  The reason why?  Because I have no control around food.  If there is something in my cabinet that I want to eat I will eat all of it.

Then with the gallbladder disease and pancreatitis I had to stop eating virtually everything, I lost a bunch of weight (weighing in just under 120), and most importantly, I started to record everything I ate.  This turned into an exercise about counting not just my fat, but my calories as well.  I don’t need to monitor my fat intake much these days, but with every meal I still record everything that I eat as well as every snack, etc.  There are certain things – like dark chocolate and meringue cookies – at which I still consider myself completely at the mercy.  I will eat an entire tub of meringue cookies in a day or two.  But I record it.  I may feel ashamed, but I do it.

I have weighed about 115-120 pounds for 1.5 years.

I still have a tendency to tell myself that I have no control when it comes to food.

But really, when you look at it.  I have a LOT of control with food.  It’s not the natural control that others may have, but I have it, better than most.  I’m honest with myself when I binge, and I record it.  And because I record it, I know how much I need to work to ‘earn it.’

This is very analogical, but I suspect that you have told yourself that you are not good at working – you use a short stint in a deplorable work situation to convince yourself that you are not cut out for work at all.  But from what I can tell, you have managed to do a lot of wonderful, productive work in the last decade – it’s just outside of the definitions that other people have asserted.  By telling yourself that you are not good at something and then by holding yourself up to a standard that doesn’t suit you, you end up convincing yourself of something that actually isn’t true.

[end monologue]

Ted:  Whoa didn’t see that coming. I’m so touched right now that you put thought into that I’m floored.

Robin:  Am I making sense?  You and I look at others as ‘normal’ and judge ourselves by those standards and not even at the end results but at the means.  Because we don’t do it the same way as someone is supposed to, we think we fail at it – but really if you look at the results – they can be the same – we just have to make accommodations for how we get there.

Robin:  I guess I just want you to be careful of the voice that tells you that you are something or not something ‘normal.’

Ted:  Yes, I think that is true.  And so easy to lose perspective on.  Life looks so fucking easy for everyone else.