You're Stressed, But Did You Really Need to Eat That?

Many, many moons ago I was an undergraduate college student. Or at least, it feels like a very long time ago; more than a decade ago to be exact. I was fresh behind the ears so to speak and naive to how the world works with its balance of cruelty and grace. When I look back on that time in my life, I think it’s true what they say - ignorance and the naiveté we have in our youth truly is bliss. I took many things for granted when I was younger and I had that common arrogance about me that made me believe I was invincible because I was young. I had left home for the first time at 17 for Army boot camp after having graduated high school early. By 18, I had “made rank” in the Army - a little bit - and left active duty to start college. Like many people my age, college was the first time I was away from home. For me, the adjustment stress was heightened as my mother struggled initially with being an empty nester; so she would call at least 4 times per day during my first semester! Nonetheless, I took the extra love in stride. Though it goes without saying, being away from home and my family, still being a soldier, being in a new town/environment, new social experiences, academic obligations, questioning my sexuality out loud for the first time - it was a lot. Millions of people have been in that similar situation, yet depending on several factors - we all cope differently. 

The Freshman 40

What I know now that I didn’t immediately know back then was that I coped with food. One thing that I often emphasize to people is that our relationship with food in early adulthood is often shaped by our childhood experiences. Children don’t control what they eat, they don’t control what groceries are purchased and they often aren’t taught how to cook until such is age appropriate. So if you grew up in a household where you were forced to clean your plate, you likely developed an affinity for larger portions of food as you aged; maybe you also struggled with your weight. If there was food insecurity in the home, those kids likely became price conscious adults when it came to grocery shopping and seldom discarded leftovers. For me, I grew up in a household where food was love, but we didn’t start reading grocery labels and getting more health conscious diet-wise until I was in high school. Side note, I have always hated the word diet. Well, for context - I think the word diet is often misappropriated when people are really trying to describe healthy eating. Diets are short term, healthy eating habits is a long term endeavor and worth the effort. Anyway, I was sent off to the Army and college without a solid foundation for healthy eating or understanding the nuances of grocery shopping: fair prices, product quality, “best by” versus “sell by” dates and the like. Taking into account that no one in an Army uniform was waking me up at 5am daily to exercise anymore, I didn’t gain the “Freshman 15.” I gained “the Freshman 40” as far as my weight. From my choices in the cafeteria: sugary drinks and fries with lunch and dinner, to never drinking water, frequently eating fast food and almost never cooking, I put on weight fast during my freshman year of college. 

I ATE MY FEELINGS...

I wasn’t blind to the reality of weight gain though, I just didn’t have effective education or support to make healthy changes. To note, having your friends joke about your weight gain doesn’t instill a lot of motivation to figure out a meaningful pathway towards changing one’s eating habits. The only thing I noticed at 18 years old was my inner voice. It became louder and was no longer a whisper. “Renae, you know you’re not going to eat all that.” “That didn’t taste good, so why are you getting more?” My inner critic likely helped perpetuate my routine of unhealthy eating and limited physical activity. The stress of classes, assignments, navigating asinine social drama and trying to date "grown little boys” while secretly thinking about girls occasionally - I ate my feelings. Good grade on a paper I worked hard on? - Treated myself to food. Feeling emotional about something? I would happily isolate myself for the weekend as a true Aquarius, binge my faves on tv and eat my favorite unhealthy foods. 

I had to undergo Army “counseling” for my weight gain; which was only a 5 minute chat with a superior soldier who stated as long as I passed my fitness tests twice per year, it would be too hard for them to kick me out for excessive body fat. I was issued a uniform that was one or two sizes bigger and that was it. There was no detailed inquiry into my weight gain, there was no nutritional counseling from the army, no dietician, no remedial physical fitness training; nothing. I told myself I would get back into the gym one month before my next physical fitness test. After all, it was only a little bit of push-ups, a few sit-ups and a 2 mile run in under 20 minutes. Yeah… that plan only worked out once in my favor. The rest of my military career, story for another day. I may have been 18 and old enough to serve, but I was still a kid. Point blank, people need education on food before adulthood. In our parents’ and grandparents' generations, they had home economics in high school. However, I’m doubtful the coursework really dug into the psychology of food. Side note, I’ve always found it to be “hilarious” that you can serve your country at the tender age of 17, but you can’t have a drink until you’re 21; unlike in other countries. But I digress. 

I Coped With Food

I did undergrad at a college that was in a very rural area in my home state. So when a new restaurant would open up, it was all the fuss on campus. I didn’t know back then that food had become so much of a comfort for me just a few months into my freshman year. Today, I can almost pinpoint when food became an addiction for me back then. The restaurant was called Adelio’s. Come to think of it, I don’t even recall if it was actually a new restaurant or just new to me because I ventured into the next town with friends after months of being socially withdrawn and we drove past it. But what I do recall is that for a whole week afterwards, all I could think about was when I could find time between my evening classes and work/study night schedule to drive the 30 minutes there and indulge. I did eventually. In almost no time, their butterfly shrimp dish became one of my favorites. 

It drowned out the noise of a hard day with classes and long hours studying. It paired well with the reality tv shows I would binge to unwind. It eased the strain I had with my roommates over the thermostat and how often they let their boyfriends sleep over. Food was my “bad therapy” at the beginning of my collegiate career. It was a crutch; a warped kickstand on a bicycle holding the weight of a kid too big to ride it. It wouldn’t have taken much more for everything to fall to pieces e.g. developing high blood pressure, becoming pre-diabetic; so many things could’ve happened because of my habits. Plenty of times, I would ask myself - did you really need to eat that? 

YIELD!

So one faithful day, everything changed. The day started just like any other. It was close to Spring Break and midterms, so my stress was higher with studying and completing papers. On top of my work/study job on campus and a full-time academic courseload, I also had a part-time civilian job on a nearby Army base as an administrative clerk. Talk about being an overachiever! The civilian job simply looked good on my resume and it was awarded to a student based on interviews. I earned it, so I kept it on top of my other obligations. I didn’t even need to work that much. As far as finances, I was blessed to have my own military money and my parents’ military benefits. Though much like with food, I hadn’t left home with a well-rounded education about money management. So in undergrad, I paid the little bills I had like my cellphone and car insurance, and wasted the rest of my hundreds on tattoos, food, clothes and being too generous towards my friends. My commute to my civilian job on base was about 40 minutes without traffic each way 3 days weekly. I was already used to the route. It had already been a few months of me working on base. So why on this one particular day did I blow through a yield sign coming off the highway back into town? The yield sign had… always… been… there. 

Looking back on that terrible day, I had been buzzing with internal anticipation about chowing down on the high priced Italian food I had just picked up near the Army base and how much tastier it was going to be compared to Adelio’s. I had zoned out while driving…daydreaming about food. I don’t remember if the unique construction of that intersection was X-shaped or Y-shaped. But I can tell you that the car accident I caused, I saw it all happen in slow motion. I hit another car, driven by a middle-aged woman, head on while I was crossing into my connecting lane; so I would venture to say the streets were Y-shaped. I wound up only having a sprained wrist, but the other driver had a couple fractures from what I heard. I can’t describe the sinking feeling I had, riding away from the scene in an ambulance and seeing my first car that I had almost paid off being towed away. I was definitely depressed for a few weeks after the accident. I had good support from my friends and mother thankfully. Of course the cops gave me a cheap ticket for being at fault and my car insurance skyrocketed for awhile. 

When Change Happened

But the memory I have about the whole ordeal is the tow yard. A couple of days after the accident, I went to the tow yard with my best friend to retrieve my belongings, school books etc from my mangled Dodge Neon. The memory that is burned in my brain was the pricey Italian food I never got the chance to eat. It was splattered in several places throughout the car. You see, I had ordered 3 separate entrees so that I could enjoy eating hearty and still have leftovers in between classes. So unnecessary, so indulgent, so addicted to food. As I picked over my folders and books; some of which were covered in marinara sauce… I just kept looking at my car. The windows had been partially down since it was towed, so bugs had begun nesting in the backseat amidst the molding, splattered food. It didn’t feel like my car anymore oddly. More importantly, I really did take what I saw inside my car as a sign; it was time to change. I literally wrecked my car and could’ve died because I was daydreaming about food. I was too busy, too mentally overwhelmed and not living as healthy as I could have been; and I knew that. As my wrist healed over a few weeks, I found myself trying to drink more water and I started eating at Subway on campus for the first time thinking I could lose weight like Jerry the spokesman did. I started going to the gym and walking the track on campus. As I started to lose a few pounds, I realized how impactful even small changes could be. This chapter of life certainly wasn’t my highest of highs with my wellness journey, but it was definitely one of my lowest lows as an adult.

As a practitioner and now a veteran, looking back on that chapter - I wonder how my negligence with driving that day changed the course of that woman’s life in some way. It still brings up emotions for me. It’s an emotional scar that I will have for life, but at least now - I’m not “eating my feelings” over it and it’s not an unhealed wound. So the next time you fix yourself a plate, ask yourself if you’re eating your feelings about some sort of unhealed pain. Is there unresolved shame or guilt somewhere in your life? Even if you’re not coping with life maladaptively with substances, alcohol, gambling or perpetuating some sort of violence on others - could you be coping with life via food? If nothing else, pay attention to what’s on your plate… in every sense of the word. Close any unhealed chapters in your life through reflection, introspection and therapy if you need it. Being healthy is multi-faceted. We must pour into ourselves - mind, spirit and plate. 

“Be intentional with your life choices and be mindful about what you choose to stick your fork into.” - The Lazy Doctor