{"id":7002,"date":"2019-03-18T07:00:38","date_gmt":"2019-03-18T14:00:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.alicecarbone.com\/?p=7002"},"modified":"2020-04-14T12:55:02","modified_gmt":"2020-04-14T19:55:02","slug":"about-greed","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/alicecarbone.com\/staging\/2381\/about-greed\/","title":{"rendered":"About Greed"},"content":{"rendered":"

ABOUT GREED, Part 1<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/span><\/p>\n

Have you ever slipped<\/span> <\/span><\/span>into a puddle of greed?<\/span><\/p>\n

I have. I don\u2019t know when or how it happened, I just know that all of a sudden \u2014 or in a period of time that I perceived as such \u2014 I found myself miserable, frustrated, discontent, and greedy. Life didn\u2019t feel right any more; I began to want all the things I didn\u2019t have, and soon enough I began to think that I needed all that I wanted; I buried myself in obsessive workout and in obsessive online shopping; the latter even worsened my thumb arthritis. \u201cMaybe God is doing for you what you can\u2019t do for yourself,\u201d my hand doctor said. Dr.<\/span> <\/span><\/span>Shayfer<\/span> <\/span><\/span>had genuinely smiled,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>and he had<\/span> <\/span><\/span>then placed a splint on my right hand.  <\/span><\/p>\n

In the weeks that followed, I grew increasingly isolated and I didn\u2019t wear the splint as prescribed. For greed and isolation are much more intertwined than I had thought<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c<\/span>Unless you mak<\/span>e do with what you have, y<\/span>ou<\/span> <\/span><\/span>will<\/span> <\/span><\/span>never be able to be happy,\u201d my mom used to caution me when I was younger.<\/span> <\/span><\/span>\u201c<\/span>Non<\/em><\/span> <\/span><\/em><\/span>riuscirai<\/em><\/span> <\/span><\/em><\/span>mai<\/em><\/span> <\/span><\/em><\/span>ad<\/em><\/span> <\/span><\/em><\/span>essere<\/em><\/span> <\/span><\/em><\/span>felice<\/em><\/span> <\/span><\/em><\/span>se non<\/em><\/span> <\/span><\/em><\/span>impari<\/em><\/span> <\/span><\/em><\/span>ad<\/em><\/span> <\/span><\/em><\/span>accontentarti<\/em><\/span>,<\/em><\/span>\u201d<\/span> <\/span><\/span>she\u2019d say<\/span>.<\/span><\/p>\n

I don\u2019t re<\/span>member how old I was,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>but I know that she couldn\u2019t understand the suffering I was in \u2014 hurt that, even then, had taken one of the many shapes of greed. Back in those da<\/span>ys, I didn\u2019t know why I felt that<\/span> <\/span><\/span>way; I didn\u2019t know when I had began to feel that way, greedy for more but unable to locate and recognize what was<\/span>,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>that I truly missed. I wasn\u2019t raised with much, and I wasn\u2019t raised in a greedy social environment.<\/span> <\/span><\/span>I would almost say that I wasn\u2019t raised in modern society, because the early 1980s in my small<\/span> <\/span><\/span>home<\/span>town resembled an old-fashioned way of life<\/span>, without cellphones, Internet,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>or<\/span> <\/span><\/span>designer clothing.<\/span> <\/span><\/span>Growing up, I didn\u2019t know about high fashion, expensive cars, or jewelry<\/span>;<\/span> <\/span><\/span>that\u2019s not what I wanted. And yet, at a point in my life, nothing seemed to make me happy. It was that point in life when I thought that something external would be the source of my happiness. My mother didn\u2019t know what it was, where it had originated, and how much it was shaping me for the years to come. I didn\u2019t know either. But today I understand her careful choice of words: she never said that I would never<\/span> <\/span><\/em><\/span>be<\/em><\/span> <\/span><\/em><\/span>happy<\/span>;<\/span> <\/span><\/span>she said I would never<\/span> <\/span><\/span>be able to<\/span>o.<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWhen was the last time you<\/span> <\/span><\/span>were not greedy<\/span>?\u201d<\/span> <\/span><\/span>Cei<\/span>, one of my two therapists, asked me during our last session. It was December 6th; it was raining in Los Angeles, and I was cold, dressed all in black, tired, but happy to be talking to her and Diane, my other therapist in Beverly Hills, on Skype.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI think it was when I lived by myself on Beachwood,\u201d I said.<\/span> From a rational point of view, my answer<\/span> <\/span><\/span>didn\u2019t make sense; I didn\u2019t h<\/span>ave much in those days, and I wasn\u2019t particularly successful either.<\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

In my essays, I have extensively talked about th<\/span>e years when I lived on Beachwood Dr.,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>betw<\/span>een 2012 and 2014,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>in a quaint and frugally furnished one-b<\/span>edroom apartment on the south side of the street, before the STOP sign, and<\/span> <\/span><\/span>from which I could see the Hollywood sign in the distance. I keep talking about<\/span> <\/span><\/span>that<\/span> <\/span><\/span>time in my life because, even<\/span> <\/span><\/span>though<\/span> <\/span><\/span>I couldn\u2019t see it back then, those years turned out to be profoundly formative for me<\/span>, both as a woman and as a writer<\/span>.<\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The walls of my apartment were all painted white but for the one that separated the kitchenette from<\/span> <\/span><\/span>the living<\/span> <\/span><\/span>room<\/span>; the<\/span> <\/span><\/span>previous tenant had coated<\/span> <\/span><\/span>it<\/span> <\/span><\/span>in forest green. I didn\u2019t like it at first, but after a while I grew so fond of it that I chose it as background for my Podcast (Coffee with Alice), against which I took<\/span> <\/span><\/span>selfies<\/span> <\/span><\/span>with my guests.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat were you do<\/span>ing differently?\u201d<\/span> <\/span><\/span>Cei<\/span> <\/span><\/span>asked<\/span>.<\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI was much more of service,\u201d was the first difference that came to mind. \u201cI had much less, I went to AA meetings, I worked a lot, I was self-sufficient, and I<\/span> <\/span><\/span>really treasured<\/span> <\/span><\/span>the little free time I had for writing.\u201d<\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I drank some tea and paused; it had stopped raining.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c<\/span>Okay, what I\u2019m about to say i<\/span>s going to sound ridiculous,\u201d I said, \u201cbut even time felt more abundant when I didn\u2019t have it.\u201d Words just came out<\/span>,<\/span>without much thinking. \u201cIn those years, I used to blow-dry my hair every time I washed it,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>because it was frizzy. A<\/span>nd it took forever.<\/span>\u201d<\/span> <\/span><\/span>I<\/span> <\/span><\/span>hated<\/span> <\/span><\/span>doing it,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>because it took an hour, and by the time I was done I was<\/span> <\/span><\/span>so<\/span> <\/span><\/span>sweaty<\/span> <\/span><\/span>that<\/span> <\/span><\/span>I<\/span> <\/span><\/span>could<\/span> <\/span><\/span>have taken another shower<\/span>.<\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c<\/span>But a<\/span>fter the pregnancy my hair changed<\/span>. It<\/span>\u2019s naturally wavy and I love it;<\/span> <\/span><\/span>I haven\u2019t blown-dried it in months<\/span>. It\u2019s a silly example, I know, but I have much more time today, s<\/span>o why do I feel as if I am always running out of it?\u201d<\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

On Beac<\/span>hwood, I didn\u2019t have anyone helping me<\/span> <\/span><\/span>tak<\/span>ing care of my apartment<\/span>;<\/span> <\/span><\/span>I worked three jobs,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>and yet<\/span> <\/span><\/span>found time to enjoy grocery shopping at Trader Joe\u2019s on Selma Avenue,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>and to work out at the<\/span> <\/span><\/span>YMCA<\/span> <\/span><\/span>not far from it<\/span>. Today, I have an amazing housekeeper<\/span> <\/span><\/span>and a nanny helping me with Catherine<\/span>, I don\u2019t have a 9 to 5 job, and yet I struggle to find the time to take basic care of my self.<\/span> <\/span><\/span>When I lived on Beachwood<\/span>,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>I had $500 in my bank account and I felt financially safe<\/span>, today I am blessed with bounty<\/span>,<\/span>but<\/span> <\/span><\/span>obsess<\/span> <\/span><\/span>over<\/span> <\/span><\/span>money like I never did before<\/span>.<\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI think that the big difference was that I was the one valuing myself. I was struggling, but I was very proud of myself in those years. I had come a long way<\/span>.\u201d I had finished my novel, my English kept improving, and I had gotten sober.<\/span><\/p>\n

Only then, after sharing all that with<\/span> <\/span><\/span>Cei<\/span> <\/span><\/span>and Diane, had it occurred to me that when I was a teenager being told my mother that I would never be able to find happiness, I was a younger version of greedy<\/span> <\/span><\/span>and unhappy<\/span> <\/span><\/span>Alice as of December 6th. I was craving more to fill the holes I had inside.<\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

So as we expanded the conversation on greed, we began to dis<\/span>cover those holes, how long<\/span> <\/span><\/span>they<\/span> <\/span><\/span>had been there, where<\/span> <\/span><\/span>they<\/span>were<\/span>,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>and<\/span> <\/span><\/span>how<\/span> <\/span><\/span>they felt<\/span>.<\/span> <\/span><\/span>\u201cIt feels as if a part of my being has been removed with surgical precision,\u201d I said<\/span>. T<\/span>he holes were<\/span> <\/span><\/span>made of absence of flesh<\/span>; in AA they call<\/span> <\/span><\/span>such holes God-shaped, because<\/span> <\/span><\/span>they<\/span> <\/span><\/span>cannot be filled with the material.<\/span><\/p>\n

I began to think about the years that followed Beachwood, and about all tat I had denied myself.<\/span> <\/span><\/span>\u201cI like to watch The Holiday Baking Championship on the Food Network,\u201d I said<\/span>,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>\u201cand I like clothe, and purses. Ben loves silent movies and French poetry, how can I not feel less than him?\u201d I pictured<\/span> <\/span><\/span>in my mind<\/span> <\/span><\/span>a scale with the Food Network and Vogue magazine on one plate, and piles of foreign, ancient books on the other; I felt small, superficial,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>and<\/span> <\/span><\/span>shallow.<\/span> But Ben never made me feel that way; I project<\/span>ed what I felt of myself on him.<\/span><\/p>\n

I know that there is nothing wrong with baking shows or Vogue magazine, but when I<\/span> <\/span><\/span>moved in with<\/span> <\/span><\/span>Ben<\/span>, and when our lives became intimate, as one,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>I began to feel ashamed of some of the things I liked. Shame led to discomfort, and discomfort led to hiding those things I felt ashamed of. Hiding<\/span> <\/span><\/span>contributed to create<\/span>that<\/span> <\/span><\/span>void that did not exist between 2012 and 2014.<\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

A few nights ago, my friend Christy came over for dinner and s<\/span>aid to me: \u201cYou<\/span> <\/span><\/span>really<\/span> <\/span><\/span>look great<\/span>, but don\u2019t lose<\/span> <\/span><\/span>any<\/span> <\/span><\/span>more weight, or it will be too much.\u201d<\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

After Catherine was born, a year ago, my goal was to go back to my pre-pre<\/span>gnancy body. But when I reached such<\/span> <\/span><\/span>goal I secretly became greedy for more. I hadn\u2019t realized<\/span> <\/span><\/span>it<\/span> <\/span><\/span>until my friend<\/span> <\/span><\/span>mentioned the weight. And<\/span> <\/span><\/span>I had to face the fact that my eating disorder had crawled back into my life<\/span>.<\/span> <\/span><\/span>I had let it in so to fill those<\/span> <\/span><\/span>same<\/span> <\/span><\/span>holes that<\/span> <\/span><\/span>had<\/span> <\/span><\/span>gr<\/span>own<\/span> <\/span><\/span>increasingly wider and deeper as I<\/span> <\/span><\/span>had<\/span> <\/span><\/span>gr<\/span>own<\/span> <\/span><\/span>increasingly distant from my true self<\/span> <\/span><\/span>and from the things that really mattered<\/span>. I felt ashamed for liking the Food Network<\/span>,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>so I turned off the television. I felt ashamed for being passionate about style and fashion, so I<\/span> <\/span><\/span>began to hide the amount of time spent on Nordstrom,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>Barney\u2019s, etc.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGoing to Barney\u2019s is like eating in public when I was anorexic,\u201d I told<\/span> <\/span><\/span>Cei<\/span> <\/span><\/span>and Diane<\/span>. \u201cOnline shopping<\/span> <\/span><\/span>is<\/span> <\/span><\/span>like binging, and when I return all the stuff that I have bought is like throwing up.\u201d<\/span> <\/span><\/span>Weeks later, I would find out more about my obsession with online shopping, the purpose it served, and how it was connected with my phobias of rape and sexual assault, but the finding became material for another story.<\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

As I said, greed and isolation are more intertwined than I thought. And nothing helps isol<\/span>ation like the online world<\/span>, whether made of shopping, games, or real estate. Because I began to obsessively research our new house, too. Every time that I would complete a purchase of shoes, toilet cleaner, or a jacket, I would feel lost<\/span>, guilty, empty, and bored. \u201cB<\/span>inging<\/span>\u201d<\/span> <\/span><\/span>on<\/span> Zillow would calm me down like a pint of ice cream.<\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGreed is a fluid, sticky, sli<\/span>my, something I s<\/span>lip<\/span> <\/span><\/span>into with my right foot and that takes over my entire body with its heaviness and glue<\/span>y<\/span> <\/span><\/span>grip.\u201d I told<\/span> <\/span><\/span>Cei<\/span> <\/span><\/span>and Diane. Greed takes me away from the uncomfortable moment of realizat<\/span>ion that something within myself<\/span> <\/span><\/span>is missing.<\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Cei<\/span> <\/span><\/span>asked me what the inside of me that was missing needed to have happened<\/span>.<\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I told her that it needed to be<\/span> <\/span><\/span>acknowledged and accepted<\/span>.<\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I think that I became greedy because, unlike when I lived on Beachwood, I stopped being myself, the myself my husband fell in love with, by the way; the less thin myself, the non-perfectly dressed myself, the myself with no money and more dreams,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>the myself without designer purses or Chanel shoes,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>simply myself.<\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

When did thinner-than-before the pregnancy become not enough? How do I need more clothes, an increasingly bigger house, more fans, more success, more love, more attention, more, more, more?<\/span><\/p>\n

The answer is that I stopped valuing<\/span> <\/span><\/span>myself<\/span>, and I stopped<\/span> <\/span><\/span>being proud of myself. I stopped being self-sufficient,<\/span> <\/span><\/span>and I never made peace<\/span> <\/span><\/span>with the blessing<\/span>s<\/span> <\/span><\/span>and<\/span> <\/span><\/span>the<\/span> <\/span><\/span>bounties that Ben shared with me w<\/span>h<\/span>en we started our life together. I still feel guilty for it.<\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I was proud of myself in what I will call form now on \u201cthe Beachwood years\u201d, and that validation didn\u2019t come from out<\/span>side. As clich\u00e9 as it may sound<\/span>, it was an inside job, one that I find myself having to start from scratch, one more time, and likely not the last.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span><\/p>\n

To be continued. <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

ABOUT GREED, Part 1   Have you ever slipped into a puddle of greed? I have. I don\u2019t know when or how it happened, I just know that all of a sudden \u2014 or in a period of time that I perceived as such \u2014 I found myself miserable, frustrated, discontent, and greedy. Life didn\u2019t feel right any more; I began to want all the things… <\/p>\n

Read More<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":7014,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[3052],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7002","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-essays"],"yoast_head":"\nAbout Greed - Alice Carbone Tench<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/alicecarbone.com\/about-greed\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"About Greed - Alice Carbone Tench\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"ABOUT GREED, Part 1   Have you ever slipped into a puddle of greed? I have. I don\u2019t know when or how it happened, I just know that all of a sudden \u2014 or in a period of time that I perceived as such \u2014 I found myself miserable, frustrated, discontent, and greedy. Life didn\u2019t feel right any more; I began to want all the things... 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I have. I don\u2019t know when or how it happened, I just know that all of a sudden \u2014 or in a period of time that I perceived as such \u2014 I found myself miserable, frustrated, discontent, and greedy. Life didn\u2019t feel right any more; I began to want all the things... 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