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Posted by on in Food Addiction

In grade school, I suffered from a feeling of inadequacy. I thought I should feel more girly or more popular or more confident.  Instead, I walked around wishing I was as smart as my brother, as skinny as my best friend or as beautiful as Brooke Shields. I suffered the constant belief I would feel complete when I achieved "X".

As the years passed, my idea of "X' changed.  I focused on the next boyfriend or the next job or my pant size to fulfill me. I got many of the things I wanted and still, I felt empty.  As friends married, I wondered what was wrong with me.  As cousins had children, I stewed in envy. In silent desperation I cried, "Where's my man? Where's my baby? Where's my great life?"

I made no connection between esteemable acts and my self-esteem. If I wanted to achieve success in life, I had to be willing to work for  it. If I want to be thin or educated or well off, I needed to apply effort and be honest with myself. IncreaseBecause I cut corners (like binging and purging instead of eating right and exercising), I never felt whole.

Today, I know anything is possible when I am tenacious and I apply the right action.

Best,

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Posted by on in Food Addiction

My Name is Caroline is one of the first books written by a survivor of an eating disorder that addresses how to free your life of food and weight obsessions.

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Posted by on in Food Addiction

I grew up near South Beach. I pinched my body fat when no one was looking at me. I envied the girls who ate without fear. I envied the girls who wore a size 0. My insatiable appetite embarrassed me.  Every day, I battled with food, my body, my wardrobe and the mirror.  No matter how good I looked, I only saw my fat. 

I tried several tactics to control my eating. I avoided food, implemented portion control, followed fad diets and eliminated sugar. I over exercised, threw up, abstained from eating and used prescription drugs. When those methods failed, I invented the Cocaine Diet.

The diet was a combination of abstainance from food, cigarettes, cocaine and male attention. My body transformed and I looked like Lindsey Lohan.  People as distorted as me were jealous of my skinny appearance and fake boobs.  Inside, I still felt disgusting. I might fool others, but I could never escape my inner truth.

When the pain was great enough, I admitted I was powerless and a door to freedom appeared. It would be years before I realized a woman's essence, not her weight, is what matters.

Best,

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