Hello friends, and welcome to real-time commentary in about changing patterns of living.
As part of my healing journey, the biggest mindset shift was was how I approached change.
You see, all my life I tended to use the “negative” approach to change. I would identify a Bad Habit, set out a black and white solution, expect myself to go from zero to 100% with no practice at all, and then berate myself when I failed.
This worked enough times that I kept doing it, but it’s not good for my mental health.
I’ve started exploring a “positive” approach to change. Instead of focusing on a Bad Habit and trying to change it directly, I started to create an environment where the Bad Habit doesn’t make sense. In other words, I create the positive consequences, and assume that my habits will change to match.
Sounds backwards, right? But it worked.
Fortunately for us all, I’ve developed a pretty serious journaling habit, so I can take you on a journey of what I was thinking and feeling on the journey.
Join me on this play-by-play commentary of how I changed a bad habit without causing myself undue mental stress.
Step 1: Defining the Problem
Figuring out the problem is the first part of the battle. If you have no problem to solve, why are you even trying?
And it’s not enough to say “I’m trying to solve the problem of Crohn’s Disease.” That’s too big.
A better way to frame the problem is this: “I snack so much that I never give my body ‘time off’ from digesting. This prevents it from putting as much energy toward healing as it could.”
(It look a few years of learning about fasting and autophagy to even be able to frame the problem this way.)
An even better way to frame the problem: “I feel like snacking at night is a habit that doesn’t help my overall health. I’d like to stop doing it.”
Bingo. A specific behavior, and a trackable action. It’s easy for me to determine whether or not I “passed” on any given night. Did I eat past 6 pm? Y/N
As I was getting more serious about trying new ways to get healthy, I started experimenting with extended fasting. Periodically in 2019, I embarked on a 4-5 day fast.
Part of me was curious to see if I could handle a longer-term fast, mentally. Another part of me wanted to see if an extended fast would contribute to my health.
By September, with 3 extended fasts under my belt, I was getting really ambitious.
Trying to change the old way
I determined that the month of October would be ‘Monktober.’ I’d treat it like Dry January or Oc-sober. Only my rules were a little stricter: fast every other day, refrain from caffeine, go to bed super-early, and not eat dairy—and that was on top of a 5-day fast from October 1-5.
Finally settling into the fast… It’s good to feel like I can see my body doing its work—at least SOMETHING is worth it, right? The stinkiest part of all of this is not having coffee. That was one thing that I could rely on to give me small comfort. Now, I have caffeine headaches and nothing. I know that this part is only temporary—that I’ll eat a steak on Saturday and will feel amazing, etc, but I’m still a whiny baby about all of it. Today is probs going to be the worst day for the caffeine because I’m not drinking coffee this morning—for the first time in months. My brain kind of feels like a black hole.
3 October 2019
Yup. Caffeine withdrawl is a bitch—especially on top of the glycogen-depletion rollercoaster that happens in your liver during an extended fast.
It sucks, but you get through it. I’ve learned enough to know that you never make decisions in this state.
Now, you’ll remember that ‘Monktober’ started out with an extended fast followed by alternate-day fasts. Spoiler: that did not happen.
Here’s what happened instead, a nice piece of existential anxiety for ya:
Why do I cling so tightly to comfort food? What is it deep inside that absolutely, blind-animal-panics when there’s no food? And not just any food, that specific food that I eat at that specific time in that specific place doing that specific thing. If that food is gone, the world is going to end. Ritual food.
18 October 2019
I completely failed at Monktober.
BUT
I came face-to-face with my deep panic re: fasting.
And realized that I needed to change tactics, otherwise whatever part of me panicked without food would eventually freak out, no matter how much self-control I exercised.
I din’t want to see what kind of havock was caused when that panic got out of my control. Panic doesn’t inspire good decisions.
I started to think about what it would take to make myself feel SAFE ENOUGH to practice the new habit. Something that would make me WANT to change, rather than feel like I have to.
What would make me not want to snack at night?
A full and satisfied appetite, that’s what. Eating enough early in the day so that I simply wasn’t hungry at all.
A new approach to change
So I switched tactics, to creating the new habit FIRST, instead of the other way around.
I started eating breakfast.
I didn’t change what kind of food I ate, or how much, or anything like that. No restrictions.
I simply ADDED breakfast to my morning routine.
And at first, I set zero expectations for myself when it came to “solving” the problem of snacking at night. I wouldn’t shame myself, I wouldn’t try to stop myself. If I wanted to snack, I could.
Eventually, though, the strategy payed off. One day without snacking.
I did a no-dinner day yesterday—not even a snack when I got home.
2 November 2019
I know enough about habit-building to know that 1 day does not make a streak. So I gave myself a gold star for the day, and kept up the “no judgment zone.”
Eventually, I started noticing some interesting things.
Interesting connection between “eating a ton of fat and carbs after work last night” and “feeling like I slept terribly and too long and now I’m rushing.” … I’m absolutely panicked about being judged for [a deep fear of mine]. My old fear, haunting me forever. Or is it the inflammation speaking? I never know these days.
6 December 2019
This is the first time I can recall making such an explicit connection between what I ate before bed, and how I slept. How my body felt the next morning. My mindset.
I din’t have to set a bad consequence for myself: the consequence had been built in to the action all along. I just couldn’t see it.
But I kept going: eating breakfast, making sure my body was getting enough nutrients and not judging myself.
Which led to a decision point:
I’m on hour 30-something of an impromptu fast, mostly because I felt so sh@tty and sugary after the weekend. I’m feeling better, and went to bed at a good time last night—not sure if I feel like eating today and I know I’m going to try to overthink it. I see how much I don’t respect my body—and then I feel bad—and then I criticize. It’s a horrible loop and I mainly just need to elevate my body’s need for rest over my mind’s need to constantly consume. But that is the struggle, and that will be the struggle, and I need to put it in the knapsack and keep moving forward. I have the ability to forgive myself. I have the ability to fast. I have the ability to lean on God for His strength. This isn’t something I have to do alone, and this isn’t something that someone else is standing back and judging me for doing—this is my burden and my failing, and I’m willingly stepping up and trying to balance myself more, so that I can be more steady. Because I don’t want my body to be on the psycho dramatic doom loop, as entertaining as it is. I am doing this because I love myself, and don’t want to cede my authority—again—to the healthcare system. This is me taking the responsibility that is necessary for freedom, and this is me learning that ‘freedom’ and ‘leadership’ don’t actually mean you can do what you want. The road is a narrow one.
I’m wondering if adapting the Orthodox fasting calendar might help take the burden of decision-making off of me. That would give me an authority to follow—one that I know has a good track record. And would allow for hella feast days. 🙂 Because the point is feasting AND fasting—all of this is for ultimate benefit, not for deprivation or punishment. Teaching the flesh how to step out in faith—yeesh!
17 December 2019
I felt really good about this decision from the very beginning. I had been curious about following the Orthodox calendar for a long time, since I read Nassim Taleb’s Antifragile.
This felt like a good time to embark on that journey. I had a good morning routine going (steak for breakfast, yo), and the Orthodox calendar treats fasting as a way of life, not as an extreme sport.
But that wouldn’t start until January 1, and this was still December.
More lessons from the judgment-free zone:
Yesterday was emotionally exhausting. … And then I came home and stress ate, which triggered a bathroom run. So the question is, then, why am I stress eating after a day like that and is there something else I could do to “zone out” just as well?
18 December 2019
Just like I started noticing ‘natural’ consequences, I started ‘naturally’ looking for alternate solutions.
Did I find any at that time? No I did not.
It was a start.
That brings us to 2020, year of following the Orthodox calendar.
It’s a fast day, today. My “first” on this way of eating—as an ersatz Orthodox. I feel like somehow I should have mentally prepared more, but I didn’t Oh well. I know how to fast—I’ll get through it.
5 January 2020
Guess what? I made it through that fast—and quite a few after that. The nice thing about fasting on such a regular basis is fasting gets to be an ‘ordinary’ experience.
The act of fasting doesn’t get any easier, but you get way more used to it.
I had a very nice amount of sleep last night, largely because I went to bed at 9:00 because I was super cranky from fasting. It’s funny to me how situational that behavior can be—although perhaps when my gut is cranky fasting is going to hit me a little bit harder—since there is more healing to do. I also feel like I need to be deliberate about adding in more broth and gelatin, maybe even to the point of replacing my morning coffee with it. That would definitely be more of a ‘set you up for success’ act.
11 January 2020
More solutions, popping out of my brain spontaneously! I was really settling in to the routine.
Then, more surprising revelations:
It’s only been 3 weeks but I’m way bullish on this fasting thing. I’m hoping by the end of the year the 1-days aren’t a big deal anymore—or, not even a ‘deal’ at all. Even today, I’m not rushing to eat anything, because I know that we’ll get there. Thursday: my feast day in the week, nestled between the two fast days.
16 January 2020
I was not expecting to like this way of living so much. I don’t know if it’s because I din’t/don’t have to DECIDE what I’m eating on any given day, or if the rhythm is just excellently-matched to the human bean, or what, but I remain enthusiastic.
Praise God—and thanks to fasting and probably spending time with good people also—I got a solid 7.5 hours of sleep last night! Fasting is the *only* thing that makes me want to go to bed early. And by early I mean on time. Everything else is this ‘stay up late and grab for more’ mentality, which isn’t a good one.
30 January 2020
Which brings us to Lent.
I chose to modify the traditional Orthodox Lent, both in dates (because the Orthodox celebrate Pascha a week after the rest of us celebrate Easter), and in food—I chose simply to quit eating dairy.
“Simply” is perhaps an overstatement here, because dairy is one of those foods that I have a very tumultuous relationship with. It’s a legit sacrifice.
Then, the Coronavirus pandemic became a Thing, and stress eating entered my life again. I held onto the “no dairy” rule but broke into the pork rinds and bacon. But I found that I operated so much better when I stopped eating around 3 pm. That gave me a time-goal, as well, so that I structured my meals. (Without that, I probably would have ‘forgotten’ to eat until 11 pm.)
And then, it all clicked into place
Once again, I found myself in a situation where I was failing at the high expectations I set for myself—but less than during Monktober.
This time, there was no panic, no fear. At some point I had stopped snacking at night—and I have no idea when that point was. It wasn’t important enough for me to notice.
There have been a few days when I snacked at night, but they were anomalies rather than the norm. I slept so poorly that it wasn’t tempting at all to do it again.
Because I had already set myself up for success—my body and mind can reliably rely on a delicious breakfast every morning that isn’t a fast day—I’m not stuck in a SCARCITY or DEFICIT mindset.
I know that there will be breakfast tomorrow, because I have proved it to myself over and over and over again.
Somewhere along the line, I developed a new pattern of life.
And the biggest surprise in all of this is my new relationship to sleep. Historically, I’m the kind of person who will ‘forget’ to go to bed. Fasting is literally the only thing that makes me want to go to bed at a reasonable time.
Now, I’m excited to get up in the morning because I get to drink coffee and eat breakfast, so I’m more amenable to going to bed—because going to bed means that I can wake up again.
I can’t really untangle any of this—food and sleep and stress. It’s all wrapped up together, a cascading reaction of good habits. This all started because I decided to create a positive change instead of a negative one, and my entire life has changed for the better.
I never would have expected this, but I’m grateful. It’s possible to change, and it’s equally possible to change gently.