We often, when working with offenders, or with people who need to make a radical shift in both thinking and behaviours, encourage people to think of 'old me' and 'new me'. Old me thinking leads to relapse, jail and other horrid social consequences. New me thinking is difficult but it leads to decisions that are healthy, constructive and keep feet on the path of development.
And then there's the Id. I remember learning about the Id, Ego and Super-Ego when studying Freud in Psychology class back in the day. Even though I thought the whole Freudian mish mash was over convoluted and a tad warped, I really got the idea of the Id. The 'me out of control', the 'me that fulfills all my needs irrespective of others', the 'me that voraciously attacks food, sex, life'. AAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGG ME MAN!!
Well, unexpectedly, yesterday. I was taken over by 'old me' who rode into town on my Id. I lost all self control. Even thought I was in a group, I don't think anyone really noticed. It was a pot luck lunch. We'd had a brilliant presentation from two of the team! Go Yvonne and Amanda. I don't think I've been that moved by a presentation in a very long time. It was the kind of talk that lifted your spirits and made you believe that kindness can win the day. Amazing.
Anyhow. A N Y H O W. The table was bursting with food. I made a joke after all the questions had been asked and the presentation well and truly finished, I said, 'The biggest question is, of course, why is that box of pastries just sitting on the table, why aren't we snacking.' Seconds later the pastries went around the table. Seconds after that, the whole group erupted and attacked the food that was brought in. Katie beside me had chocolate cake as her first course. But then salads and bruschettas and apple with caramel dip and chips and guacamole, not to mention the baked brie, oh my heaven's the baked brie. This is a group that cooks.
I had the agenda in front of me and we kept on track and covered the entire thing. Those who came by and looked in might have seen this huge family having dinner and talking together. Even though we talked of difficult things and struggled with reoccurring problems, the food never stopped and the ideas became increasingly creative. It was wonderful.
But into the camp, stole, Id. Old me sitting on Id's back whispered to me, 'Screw diabetes, there's cake. CAKE. I resisted and instead took some apple slices and scooped up caramel dip with chocolate topping. See APPLES, I said to Old me. I saw Id whisper to OM and then OM said, 'Look there's fresh raspberries on the chocolate cake, how healthy is that. Raspberries are chock full of fiber. One, then two, pieces of chocolate cake flew on to my plate. Followed by baked brie, followed by more apples .... AAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHH.
The meeting was almost over, I had to say something to Alan and when I did I could hear the sugar vibrating in my system. I knew that I was in desperate need of some insulin and managed to give myself a shot, like a junkie in a toilet.
Man, complete loss of control. Complete. I haven't had that kind of relapse since the diagnosis of diabetes. I mean, recognize, I am diabetic for a reason. I think that after elevators, sugar is God's most wondrous invention. So it's really hard for me to be in control all the time, but I try to be ... now I'm whining ... New me knows there's a new way of living, but sometimes New me seems like a shriveled up school marm waving her finger at me for being a bad boy.
And I was a bad boy.
A really bad boy.
Since it's Saturday, maybe a spanking is due.
Oh, God, he's back.