Going Deeper

A place of personal enquiry.

Who or what is taking me for a ride?

If I put “desire” into the alchemical vessel, will its golden essence be found?  That’s kind of what I’m hoping to do, but I’m thinking it’s very easy to end up with fool’s gold.  The connection between fear and desire can be seen in some of the possible “impurities” I’ve been considering:

  • Drives/needs: for food, sex, safety, security, a sense of self-worth etc. These are baselines for desire rather than desire itself, but the potential for confusion is present even at this level.  For instance, the overlap in desire imagery between food and sex has often been noted.  When basic needs/drives are frustrated or damaged, they might lead to problematic desires connected with:
  • Addictive behaviours & substance addiction
  • Obsession
  • A focus on worldly desires such as for wealth, power, conquest, fame, etc.
  • Longing: It seems to me this is not as able to motivate action as desire is. It even can lead to chronic inaction. Pothos was one of the Erotes and symbolised longing or yearning (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erotes ).  It’s interesting that his flower was one that was used at funerals!  Are we in the realm of Freud’s Thanatos?
  • A focus on physical pleasure/hedonism: Might this be a distraction or escape from facing inevitable mortality?

 

Before going deeply into desire, the surface area needs to be examined – then, ideally, to go down layer by layer.  I seriously doubt I will be that systematic but, as archaeologists know, what is discovered on the surface can give important information about what might be below.  I wrote an essay in high school on “Why I want to be an archaeologist.”  Was this the beginning of my desire to dig down deeply?  Instead I became a therapist, and it’s my daughter who now has a PhD in archaeology.  I’m not sure I have an archaeologist’s patience.  There will be a few spontaneous plunges and resulting re-surfacing that might happen in this enquiry.

On the surface of my life is a certain desire to eat in a unregulated manner that seems to take possession of me and does not really relate to any current actual need for food (although it probably relates to my very early actual needs for food/comfort etc.).  There is a difference, according to much on-line advice, between hunger (naturally arising from natural need) and appetite (the desire for food), which in either extreme (excessive or repressed) falls within the impurity of addiction in the above list.

I have always had difficulties with impulsive/emotional eating, often when I am tired, or when I am living in my head or when I am unhappy, frustrated, anxious or angry.  I am one of millions who suffer from this.  There are so many of us you might as well call it normal.  But it is very humiliating be thrown out of control so frequently around food, and this is made worse by the pressures and shame our culture projects onto women’s bodies and appetite.  Ever since knowing the circumstances of my birth, I have felt my eating issues were rooted in my birth experience and then compounded by my relationship with my not-quite-available mother as I grew up.  I have written about my birth and my mother elsewhere in Nothing Special, Experiencing Fear and Vulnerability in Daily Life (2015, Triarchy Press), but, in a nut-shell, I was separated from her at my hospital birth and brought to her every four hours for “ten minutes a side” –  then firmly taken from her again.  My father was away and the hospital wouldn’t let my mother go home until he returned two weeks later.  My mother said by then I was “a very good baby”, meaning I didn’t make much of a fuss.  In my childhood, while she was providing my food (and she was very good at this), I remained unaware of any impulsive eating.  But I did suck my thumb (a lot) until I was 11/12 years old when shame of the behaviour finally out-weighed the desire.  I also went through a period in late childhood of stealing – mostly little things from five & dime stores that I didn’t even want.  The shame I felt every time was excruciating.  This came to an end when I stole $5 from my mother’s purse.  She asked me about it and I denied knowing anything, but the unbearable shame about lying to my beloved (if unobtainable) mother brought an end to my stealing.  I am noticing the connection between desire and shame arising here.

It was when I left home and started feeding myself that the sense of a lack of control around eating began to be felt.  I have found various ways of managing my weight through my adult life – but not a way of managing the feelings of shame and being out of control around certain foods (usually fatty, sweet things).  I was breastfed, and honour my mother in her insistence on this against the prevailing culture of the time.  Having breastfed my own children, I now know how sweet breast milk tastes.  Sweet is a very primal taste and is associated with feeling nourished, relaxed and held.  Only, indulging in sweet foods doesn’t really provide that, does it?  At least not for long.  It’s been like this: I’m driving home from a long day and know I will be passing a shop.  The desire-thought for a Snickers bar arises in my mind (a neat package of sweet, fat & protein – like breast milk).  I recognise it and think I’ve got a handle on it. I try to let what arises in my mind just flow through me: “You deserve it after such a hard day!” – the taste memory arises – “You’re too weak to stop yourself, aren’t you!” – I smell the Snickers bar.  But I then remind myself about how bad I will feel afterwards, both physically and emotionally, and tell myself that what I really need is a couple of crackers and a cup of tea, followed by a 15 minute lie-down.  Yes – I am almost home and relax a bit.  Suddenly someone else takes control of the car and of me, and I am turning into the local shop, getting out, buying a Snickers bar and eating it immediately in the car.  I drive home feeling defeated and humiliated – but also sort of satisfied.  I have been struggling with various versions of this scenario throughout my adult life and still can’t seem to get out of being taken for a ride by this kind of desire now and again.  I know there are many others who can immediately relate to this.  What to do?

5 comments found

  1. I’m not quite sure of the tone/type of comment to leave, as I’ve not done this before, but, I am struck by the great power of the desire in your article taking over rational thought and self control. It is familiar to me too, of course. I am interested in the range of feelings that might accompany ‘defeat and humiliation’ when desire takes us for a ride. I think the shame of these feelings can sometimes prevent further personal enquiry – i.e – it’s done – try harder next time- move on. Period. Do I know I’m going to be defeated by desire? Is there any point in trying to resist it? – and perhaps these ‘negative’ feelings of shame, defeat and humiliation are/become part of the desire?

    1. Thanks for engaging, Guy. This is an interesting idea – that the feelings of shame, defeat and humiliation can become part of desire. They kind of get stuck together. Shame is often around the lack of control. “I should be able to control myself.” I am used to “sitting with” my feelings. I know I can’t control them, but I can observe them / become aware of them as they arise and eventually pass away – I don’t have to immediately act (react) on them. However, I do believe that I can control my choices and actions. It is when this kind of control is somehow taken from me that the other feelings kick in. And I can watch them – but somehow it doesn’t help because the bird has flown, so to speak. It only really happens around this particular desire for me. Maybe when I was much younger it happened around sex and, of course, the childhood complusive stealing I mentioned. And sex and food can both be talked about in terms of appetite, can’t they? The reason I am doing this enquiry is because I believe desire is actually important – it motivates. We need our desire to create and to engage with vitality in the world. I am going to post soon about my efforts to explore this particular kind of desire. If you feel able, your own experiences are always valuable.

      1. It seems that there is some kind of tension between what we ‘know’ or feel we ought to be doing and what we actually desire. For example, with food, we may know that we should fuel our body with healthy foods that are good for us but we desire sweet foods that provide that fix. It seems the shame comes in when we don’t feel we are living our lives as we should. The rebellious part of me is curious about whether desire is particularly strong because it can rebel against what is ‘good’ for us. I think it is important to engage with desire, guilt free, as long as no one else is getting hurt

    1. I am really interested in this “Rebel” and will think more about it. Is there a way other than to either resist or capitulate?

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