In one week, I learned more about the gallbladder than I ever thought I wanted to. Since I'm kind of a hands on learner, it took a full blown gallbladder attack to get my attention. I mean, I would probably never have just studied the gall bladder for the fun of it, or even had much curiosity about it! I've had clients with gallbladder issues, but I never in a zillion years thought I would join their ranks. I almost never eat fried foods, icky pastries or sugary stuff, but I learned that isn't always the issue.
I did the one worst possible thing for my gallbladder, and I did it repeatedly and habitually. I overate. Because I am an emotional eater and have a very slow metabolism, if I eat until I feel full, invariably I feel STUFFED an hour later, and maybe ever 2 or 3 hours later. I am a fast eater, which comes from a whole history of eating disorders growing up.
I remember when I lived in the Ashram in Oakland, and there were 2 sizes of trays for the self serve dinner. If I took the small tray and didn't go back for seconds, I was always fine. When something was particularly delicious and I gave in to temptation, I always suffered afterward. Suffering took the form of gas and stomach aches, which I now recognize as bottom line gallbladder issues.
I'm actually pretty in awe of people who don't have food issues, who are relaxed about eating and eat enough to get satisfied. In my family, as in lots of families, eating carried a big heavy emotional valence. My dad had been starved nearly to death in prison camp in WWII. My mom had grown up dirt poor in Alabama in the depression. I had a Jewish Grandmother. And on top of all their issues, I didn't want to eat.
Yup, I was about 7 when I decided not to eat any more. I'm sure there's a backstory here, but basically I was taken to the doc and put on some tonic called "Eat it All." Honest. Within a year nothing was safe. I would have eaten dog food, and I went from this little stick figure to a balloon. My ability to control myself was gone, my natural capacity to judge full or not full was gone, and I ate and ate and ate. And then I became a teenager, and bulimic, well before that had a name. And it was emotional, and family based.
So here I am now, in my sixties, reviewing how disordered and disempowered all that was, and grateful for the gall bladder I guess, since it gave me all this awareness. And since I wrote this originally, I've had the whole thing removed.
It was infected and making me sicker and sicker. When I went to a natural healer, what he told me was that according to Chinese medicine the gallbladder stores rage, unexpressed anger. Aye Dios! That's a whole 'nother story.
I did the one worst possible thing for my gallbladder, and I did it repeatedly and habitually. I overate. Because I am an emotional eater and have a very slow metabolism, if I eat until I feel full, invariably I feel STUFFED an hour later, and maybe ever 2 or 3 hours later. I am a fast eater, which comes from a whole history of eating disorders growing up.
I remember when I lived in the Ashram in Oakland, and there were 2 sizes of trays for the self serve dinner. If I took the small tray and didn't go back for seconds, I was always fine. When something was particularly delicious and I gave in to temptation, I always suffered afterward. Suffering took the form of gas and stomach aches, which I now recognize as bottom line gallbladder issues.
I'm actually pretty in awe of people who don't have food issues, who are relaxed about eating and eat enough to get satisfied. In my family, as in lots of families, eating carried a big heavy emotional valence. My dad had been starved nearly to death in prison camp in WWII. My mom had grown up dirt poor in Alabama in the depression. I had a Jewish Grandmother. And on top of all their issues, I didn't want to eat.
Yup, I was about 7 when I decided not to eat any more. I'm sure there's a backstory here, but basically I was taken to the doc and put on some tonic called "Eat it All." Honest. Within a year nothing was safe. I would have eaten dog food, and I went from this little stick figure to a balloon. My ability to control myself was gone, my natural capacity to judge full or not full was gone, and I ate and ate and ate. And then I became a teenager, and bulimic, well before that had a name. And it was emotional, and family based.
So here I am now, in my sixties, reviewing how disordered and disempowered all that was, and grateful for the gall bladder I guess, since it gave me all this awareness. And since I wrote this originally, I've had the whole thing removed.
It was infected and making me sicker and sicker. When I went to a natural healer, what he told me was that according to Chinese medicine the gallbladder stores rage, unexpressed anger. Aye Dios! That's a whole 'nother story.
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