Dear Mothers, stop calling your daughters fat
I was originally just going to post a link to the article but then I read it again and realized how closely I could identify with the words.
I've had that moment. The one when you realize that you're different from all of your friends. That you're bigger. That you can't share clothes. That you just aren't as pretty. My memory of that moment isn't nearly as clear as the author of the article but I can remember feeling uncomfortable with myself as early back as second grade...maybe first. I remember not enjoying the parts of summer vacation that involved water and pools, which is pretty much the whole thing. My friends would wear bikinis and I would wear a one piece. I never really understood why I was bigger than my friends. We would eat the same junk food and do the same things. The big difference was that a lot of them were involved in sports and I was simply too embarrassed to try them.
My family was slightly different. My dad was a pretty average weight but most of the rest of my family was the same as me. I have memories of my mom and dad dieting...nutrisystem I think. They would tease me about my weight with nicknames that still make me cringe. I know this was never malicious. Never intended to hurt my feelings but it did. I don't think I've actually admitted that to either of my parents. I was never pursued to lose weight but I spent most of my life wanting to lose weight. Then I finally did! I had finally found something that worked (after trying different things) and I rode that train until it feel off of the rails...and here I am.
I work with young kids all day long and I realize how much words can effect them. I hope that my future babies will know that they are accepted and loved for everything that they are. I don't want my relationship with food to be the example they have. I repeat this every time I have a bad day. I'm getting healthy.
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Thursday, December 12, 2013
resistance is futile
There is nothing about recovery that I have found to be easy...the increased eating, decreased energy, challenge foods, anxiety, bloating...even down to the constant schedule juggling for appointments. But one of the things that I have found most difficult is how extremely lonely this journey is. How much resistance can be found even in the people that love you the most.
Discovering who I am minus the eating disorder (and all that it represents) is more challenging than I ever thought it would be. I had this idea that I would start therapy, get permission to eat more (and weigh more), start eating and that would be the end of it. I would be anxiety free. I couldn't have been more wrong. I've been learning who I am and how to use the voice I have been given. Enter the resistance.
"No" is not a word that I have used often. People don't like the word no. It upsets them. I don't like to upset people, or disappoint them or anger them. You see the connection. But I can't always say yes and that's ok. I can't please everybody and that's ok. I don't need to feel guilty saying no or disagreeing or just being honest. I am Mandi. I'm not anybody else. I have bad qualities but I have some extraordinary ones too. I have a right to stand up for myself whether you like it or not. I'm not a child and I'm not going to stay quiet anymore. I say this all with love. Love for my never failing support system. Love for every ear that's listened and arm that's hugged me. Love for myself. I have to learn how to do that and be good to myself before I can give my all to anybody else. That doesn't make me selfish. It will make me healthy.
Discovering who I am minus the eating disorder (and all that it represents) is more challenging than I ever thought it would be. I had this idea that I would start therapy, get permission to eat more (and weigh more), start eating and that would be the end of it. I would be anxiety free. I couldn't have been more wrong. I've been learning who I am and how to use the voice I have been given. Enter the resistance.
"No" is not a word that I have used often. People don't like the word no. It upsets them. I don't like to upset people, or disappoint them or anger them. You see the connection. But I can't always say yes and that's ok. I can't please everybody and that's ok. I don't need to feel guilty saying no or disagreeing or just being honest. I am Mandi. I'm not anybody else. I have bad qualities but I have some extraordinary ones too. I have a right to stand up for myself whether you like it or not. I'm not a child and I'm not going to stay quiet anymore. I say this all with love. Love for my never failing support system. Love for every ear that's listened and arm that's hugged me. Love for myself. I have to learn how to do that and be good to myself before I can give my all to anybody else. That doesn't make me selfish. It will make me healthy.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
obsessed
Obsessed. I use that word a lot. I'm obsessed with Starbucks...with my cats...with Law & Order:SVU...with any and all Christmas movies. Those are the fun obsessions. My not so fun obsession? Food...the reality that my body is changing (in my mind for the worse)...m pant size...my hunger. My therapist tells me that there will be good times and bad. I feel so deep into the bad that I don't think I'll get out. She says that I've made wonderful progress but all I see are my failures. The failure to get over this. The failure to eat my calories every day. The failure to stop the obsession. Don't get me wrong, I come close to my calories. I enjoy eating (the "safe" foods) and I like that I can eat that much but I'm terrified. I'll hit my goal one day and then for the next 4 I'm 100 short. It's just 100 calories right?? What's the big deal?...Those 100 calories represent weight gain, bigger pants and a bigger stomach. An avalanche of gaining that I won't be able to stop. One day my calories goal will be sufficient. The next day I don't be able to stop eating. This is what scares me. I know that if I feel the hunger then I'm cutting calories and that will ward off the weight gain. But If that's true then why are my pants getting tighter?? Maybe I should cut more calories. The constant battle in my harder is longer and louder that I thought it could be. This is my favorite time of year and instead of being excited I'm anxious. My wish this year? For this rocky road of recovery to become a bit smoother. It's my prayer every day.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
want a baby? have a latte
It's been so long since I've posted anything. There were a million times that I could have written...probably should have written. I'm here now though and I don't know how I'm doing. I guess I'm the only one that would truly know how I'm doing and I'm not sure.
I continue to get food challenges from my nutritionist although not as often as I have in the past. We're starting to work on some other things but I'm still afraid of some foods. What am I afraid of?? Starbucks. I go there most days of the week to get coffee to start my day. It's not the coffee that gives me sweats. It's the mocha...the frappuccino...the pumpkin spice latte. I started to frequent Starbucks as I was losing weight so I have never had one of the infamous pumpkin spice lattes. Every fall it rolls out and every fall I struggle with the decision to indulge. I foolishly mentioned this to my nutritionist and it immediately went on my challenge list. One of my goals for recovery is to get my body to a healthy place to both c carry a baby without extra strain on my body and to be in a good relationship with food so I can be a role model. One of my biggest fears is that I will continue to struggle, my kids will see that and think that's how they should be eating. Anyway...it took several weeks, and many failed trips, before I finally got up the nerve to order one. One of my reasons to be brave is for the baby I very much want. So I ordered it. Walked to my car. Sat down and took a sip. The results??? I wasn't in love. I drank the whole thing of course. It was good but not what I was expecting. It was incredibly sweet. Too sweet for me. Will I order it again? Perhaps. Will it be a venti? No. Am I still afraid? No.
I guess that nutritionist knows a thing or two that I don't. I hate when that happens.
I continue to get food challenges from my nutritionist although not as often as I have in the past. We're starting to work on some other things but I'm still afraid of some foods. What am I afraid of?? Starbucks. I go there most days of the week to get coffee to start my day. It's not the coffee that gives me sweats. It's the mocha...the frappuccino...the pumpkin spice latte. I started to frequent Starbucks as I was losing weight so I have never had one of the infamous pumpkin spice lattes. Every fall it rolls out and every fall I struggle with the decision to indulge. I foolishly mentioned this to my nutritionist and it immediately went on my challenge list. One of my goals for recovery is to get my body to a healthy place to both c carry a baby without extra strain on my body and to be in a good relationship with food so I can be a role model. One of my biggest fears is that I will continue to struggle, my kids will see that and think that's how they should be eating. Anyway...it took several weeks, and many failed trips, before I finally got up the nerve to order one. One of my reasons to be brave is for the baby I very much want. So I ordered it. Walked to my car. Sat down and took a sip. The results??? I wasn't in love. I drank the whole thing of course. It was good but not what I was expecting. It was incredibly sweet. Too sweet for me. Will I order it again? Perhaps. Will it be a venti? No. Am I still afraid? No.
I guess that nutritionist knows a thing or two that I don't. I hate when that happens.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
progress
I have been tracking my measurements for 2 years. Today I took a sharpie to the paper and scribbled out my progress. Numbers will not define me anymore.
One step at a time.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
vents ahead
Unenthusiastic.
That's been my mood for the past, eh, 2 weeks. Maybe 3 weeks.
I'm just tired. Tired of being tired. Tired of having to eat certain things or a certain amount. Tired of having SO MANY rules. Or at least feeling like I have a lot of rules. Tired of counting calories yet unable to ignore the anxiety that rises when I don't count them. I can feel the fatigue and irritability set in when I don't eat enough yet I'm still afraid to eat more.
I'm confused by my recovery team of doctors. My nurse doesn't say one way or another whether I have to gain weight, my nutritionist actually lowered my calorie requirements (perhaps because I wasn't meeting them) and mentioned that my weight was "stable" and my therapist is pretty convinced that I have to gain weight. So which is it??
Some days I'm so frustrated that I want to stop trying so hard and just go whatever I want. Then ED creeps back in: "I can't do what I want. Doing what I want was what got me obese to begin with. Not caring about what I'm eating can't possibly be good for my body. I've worked so hard for this body...don't throw it all away now."
Restriction begins which leads to guilt over restriction which leads to frustration and lack of enthusiasm all over again. It's a painful cycle to be stuck in.
I'm always looking for way to move. It's hard to sit down, sit still, sit at all when I know I should be moving because I know how many calories I'm eating.
This will end, right? I pray every single day that it does. I need prayer. I can't do this alone.
That's been my mood for the past, eh, 2 weeks. Maybe 3 weeks.
I'm just tired. Tired of being tired. Tired of having to eat certain things or a certain amount. Tired of having SO MANY rules. Or at least feeling like I have a lot of rules. Tired of counting calories yet unable to ignore the anxiety that rises when I don't count them. I can feel the fatigue and irritability set in when I don't eat enough yet I'm still afraid to eat more.
I'm confused by my recovery team of doctors. My nurse doesn't say one way or another whether I have to gain weight, my nutritionist actually lowered my calorie requirements (perhaps because I wasn't meeting them) and mentioned that my weight was "stable" and my therapist is pretty convinced that I have to gain weight. So which is it??
Some days I'm so frustrated that I want to stop trying so hard and just go whatever I want. Then ED creeps back in: "I can't do what I want. Doing what I want was what got me obese to begin with. Not caring about what I'm eating can't possibly be good for my body. I've worked so hard for this body...don't throw it all away now."
Restriction begins which leads to guilt over restriction which leads to frustration and lack of enthusiasm all over again. It's a painful cycle to be stuck in.
I'm always looking for way to move. It's hard to sit down, sit still, sit at all when I know I should be moving because I know how many calories I'm eating.
This will end, right? I pray every single day that it does. I need prayer. I can't do this alone.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
positive thoughts
I have an emergency session with my therapist this afternoon. My husband is coming along. She thinks I'm in a relapse. I'm very nervous...so here is my positive thought for the day:
It's not a straight line to recovery. It's a messy, scribbly, windy road but I can get there.
It's not a straight line to recovery. It's a messy, scribbly, windy road but I can get there.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Is "fat" really the worst thing a human can be?
Reposted from Hungry Running Girl
I love the blog! Can you tell?!
“Is ‘fat’ really the worst thing a human being can be? Is ‘fat’ worse than ‘vindictive’, ‘jealous’, ‘shallow’, ‘vain’, ‘boring’ or ‘cruel’? Not to me.”
- J.K. Rowling
From time to time this quote pops into my head. I think about it when something happens to direct me straight to my body. After I realize that I’m criticizing myself for gettingfat healthy, I stop
and think – “is this really the worst thing in the world?”
Truthfully, saying this is just a band-aid at the moment, but it does
help to get through the times when I’m overwhelmed by the thoughts of my
body and how it has changed through recovery.
This quote makes perfect sense. Now, it won’t make perfect sense to the media and the social lifestyles of gossip and celebrities… but really, it makes perfect sense to the rest of the world – which is about 99.9% of it.
As I was thinking about this quote, and how it relates to recovery, I realized that it is right on. I hate to admit it, but we are some crazy people when we are IN the eating disorder and not looking at recovery. We are isolated, rude, insincere, distracted, unemotional, cold, vindictive, jealous, shallow, vain and can be cruel as well – (add in any other descriptive words you can think of in your situation). You know it’s true; don’t deny it.
Having fat health on my body isn’t the worse thing in the
world. It is worse when I’m throwing tantrums in treatment telling my
dietitian that I hate her…. Or throwing food at my therapist because I
can’t stand the feelings (or it)…. Or screaming at my husband for
unplugging the treadmill. “Fat” – “Health” is not as bad as those things. In fact, those things are worse. They take away from who you are as a person. They make you a person you’re not.
“I’ve got two daughters who will have to make their way in this skinny-obsessed world, and it worries me, because I don’t want them to be empty-headed, self-obsessed, emaciated clones; I’d rather they were independent, interesting, idealistic, kind, opinionated, original, funny – a thousand things, before ‘thin’.
- J.K. Rowling
With media at the tip of our fingers, it’s hard to look past all the messages. Really, it has to become a choice that you make. It has to be something you choose to ignore.
“Fat-bashing in all its varied forms–criticism, exclusion, shaming, fat talk, self-deprecation, jokes, gossip, bullying–is one of the last acceptable forms of prejudice. From a very young age, before they can walk away or defend themselves, women are taught that they are how they look, not what they do or what they know. ”
― Robyn Silverman
We have to choose not to dive into the body talk that so many people engage in. It’s a commonality that women can find – a part of your body that you don’t like… or the fact that you ate that cupcake and shouldn’t have.
No really, you should have eaten the cupcake because it was damn good.
So moments (during lunches and breaks) when women talk about “having to go to the gym”, “needing to start that diet”, or the discussion of the guilt from “eating that ice cream” need to change…. and that can only be done if you choose to change it.
As women, we aren’t wired to know to change those discussion or thoughts. How do you choose to change it? You stop the conversation. You can state, “You know, hating my body is an exhausting job to keep up with, I’d rather not take that on.” …..
Or, you can ask:
“Why do you feel guilty for eating the ice cream?”
“Why do you have to diet?”
“Why do you have to go to the gym?”
“Will losing 5 lbs really solve your problems?”
Once faced with how stupid and shallow we sound when saying this, we are often left speechless…. we are left with few words to say because all we know is that it is the message received with no backing. We blindly follow what we’ve been told through pictures, media and commercials.
We learn so early that part of our worth is tied up in how we look. Truthfully, it’s not.
We hate a bitchy person – fat or not.
We avoid the chronic liars – fat or not.
We run away from the “negative Nancy” – fat or not.
We do not associate with criminals – fat or not.
The people you choose to spend your time with are typically chosen based on personality…. Let’s be real…. Your looks are not going to keep us friends, especially when I’m bored with conversation.
So, really….. is “fat” really the worst thinga human you can be?
I love the blog! Can you tell?!
“Is ‘fat’ really the worst thing a human being can be? Is ‘fat’ worse than ‘vindictive’, ‘jealous’, ‘shallow’, ‘vain’, ‘boring’ or ‘cruel’? Not to me.”
- J.K. Rowling
From time to time this quote pops into my head. I think about it when something happens to direct me straight to my body. After I realize that I’m criticizing myself for getting
This quote makes perfect sense. Now, it won’t make perfect sense to the media and the social lifestyles of gossip and celebrities… but really, it makes perfect sense to the rest of the world – which is about 99.9% of it.
As I was thinking about this quote, and how it relates to recovery, I realized that it is right on. I hate to admit it, but we are some crazy people when we are IN the eating disorder and not looking at recovery. We are isolated, rude, insincere, distracted, unemotional, cold, vindictive, jealous, shallow, vain and can be cruel as well – (add in any other descriptive words you can think of in your situation). You know it’s true; don’t deny it.
Having
“I’ve got two daughters who will have to make their way in this skinny-obsessed world, and it worries me, because I don’t want them to be empty-headed, self-obsessed, emaciated clones; I’d rather they were independent, interesting, idealistic, kind, opinionated, original, funny – a thousand things, before ‘thin’.
- J.K. Rowling
With media at the tip of our fingers, it’s hard to look past all the messages. Really, it has to become a choice that you make. It has to be something you choose to ignore.
“Fat-bashing in all its varied forms–criticism, exclusion, shaming, fat talk, self-deprecation, jokes, gossip, bullying–is one of the last acceptable forms of prejudice. From a very young age, before they can walk away or defend themselves, women are taught that they are how they look, not what they do or what they know. ”
― Robyn Silverman
We have to choose not to dive into the body talk that so many people engage in. It’s a commonality that women can find – a part of your body that you don’t like… or the fact that you ate that cupcake and shouldn’t have.
No really, you should have eaten the cupcake because it was damn good.
So moments (during lunches and breaks) when women talk about “having to go to the gym”, “needing to start that diet”, or the discussion of the guilt from “eating that ice cream” need to change…. and that can only be done if you choose to change it.
As women, we aren’t wired to know to change those discussion or thoughts. How do you choose to change it? You stop the conversation. You can state, “You know, hating my body is an exhausting job to keep up with, I’d rather not take that on.” …..
Or, you can ask:
“Why do you feel guilty for eating the ice cream?”
“Why do you have to diet?”
“Why do you have to go to the gym?”
“Will losing 5 lbs really solve your problems?”
Once faced with how stupid and shallow we sound when saying this, we are often left speechless…. we are left with few words to say because all we know is that it is the message received with no backing. We blindly follow what we’ve been told through pictures, media and commercials.
We learn so early that part of our worth is tied up in how we look. Truthfully, it’s not.
We hate a bitchy person – fat or not.
We avoid the chronic liars – fat or not.
We run away from the “negative Nancy” – fat or not.
We do not associate with criminals – fat or not.
The people you choose to spend your time with are typically chosen based on personality…. Let’s be real…. Your looks are not going to keep us friends, especially when I’m bored with conversation.
So, really….. is “fat” really the worst thing
Saturday, June 22, 2013
what just happened?
I drank calories!!!
Yep, I did.
And I had a panic attack...
at work.
I finished my bottle of Drangonfruit Vitamin Water Zero, or so I thought. It tasted better than the one I had yesterday so I'm looking at the bottle and realized that it wasn't ZERO but regular vitamin water. Immediately I entered the panic zone. I was stressed out and had a stomach ache, which I still have. I had to step outside and call my husband at home to calm me down. He talked to me and tried to distract me. It worked while we were on the phone but we can't talk forever.
I've eaten most of my lunch but I still have an apple, peanut butter and string cheese to eat for a snack. I don't want to eat. I want to run...run until I'm not stressed, run until I've burned off the drink and run a little more just for insurance calories. Purging has never been a part of my eating disorder. The thought actually scares me. I've never performed the action but there were times that I actually wished I could...this is one of those times. As scary as that is to admit to, especially on the internet, it's the truth. My stomach is growing but I won't eat. I don't know what's shifted recently but I feel stuck...no, not stuck. Moving backwards. I was making such awesome progress. I was doing well and feeling good but I don't feel like that anymore.
I'm tired.
My husband told me that he wants to see the apple core to prove that I ate the rest of my food at work. I hate to waste food but I wouldn't give a second thought to just cutting the apple off, throwing it away and just keeping the core. I will if I have to.
A part of me (the rational one) realizes how crazy this sounds. I can figure the calories into my day and work from there but I feel like I've wasted them. Now I have to conserve (not eat) in case I get hungry later. After all, it's only 4:00 p.m.
The stress (and my growling stomach) is giving me a headache. I don't know how to do this.
How did I get here and how do I find my way out?
**I wrote this on scrap paper at work. It's been six hours and it still holds true**
Yep, I did.
And I had a panic attack...
at work.
I finished my bottle of Drangonfruit Vitamin Water Zero, or so I thought. It tasted better than the one I had yesterday so I'm looking at the bottle and realized that it wasn't ZERO but regular vitamin water. Immediately I entered the panic zone. I was stressed out and had a stomach ache, which I still have. I had to step outside and call my husband at home to calm me down. He talked to me and tried to distract me. It worked while we were on the phone but we can't talk forever.
I've eaten most of my lunch but I still have an apple, peanut butter and string cheese to eat for a snack. I don't want to eat. I want to run...run until I'm not stressed, run until I've burned off the drink and run a little more just for insurance calories. Purging has never been a part of my eating disorder. The thought actually scares me. I've never performed the action but there were times that I actually wished I could...this is one of those times. As scary as that is to admit to, especially on the internet, it's the truth. My stomach is growing but I won't eat. I don't know what's shifted recently but I feel stuck...no, not stuck. Moving backwards. I was making such awesome progress. I was doing well and feeling good but I don't feel like that anymore.
I'm tired.
My husband told me that he wants to see the apple core to prove that I ate the rest of my food at work. I hate to waste food but I wouldn't give a second thought to just cutting the apple off, throwing it away and just keeping the core. I will if I have to.
A part of me (the rational one) realizes how crazy this sounds. I can figure the calories into my day and work from there but I feel like I've wasted them. Now I have to conserve (not eat) in case I get hungry later. After all, it's only 4:00 p.m.
The stress (and my growling stomach) is giving me a headache. I don't know how to do this.
How did I get here and how do I find my way out?
**I wrote this on scrap paper at work. It's been six hours and it still holds true**
Thursday, June 20, 2013
do I belong here?
It's a quiet, lazy afternoon. I sit down to watch tv but there's nothing that I find interesting. I hit the "On Demand" button to see if I can find a movie that might entertain me for the next two hours. I decide to browse through the documentary section. I'm starting to become very interested in them. I find one entitled "THIN." I read the synopsis and it tells me that it's about a women's eating disorder recovery clinic. Being in my current situation I decided to watch it. About 15 minutes into the movie I decide that I want to watch it with my husband. Maybe it will give him another perspective...explain things in a way that I can't.
Fast forward to this afternoon. A rare afternoon that my husband and I have some time to spend together. We go mini golfing (I win :)) and then we head home for lunch. I ask if he wants to watch this while we eat and he says "sure." That's when it all goes downhill...
We get through the first 15 minutes that I've already seen and we keep watching. I was able to watch 35 minutes before I had to stop the movie. There were so many thoughts and feelings running through my head that I needed to stop and breathe...
These girls weight 86 pounds. They have real eating disorders. Who am I to think that my stupid problem is a true eating disorder.
I don't throw up like they do. Maybe I don't have an eating disorder.
Oh, that girl is having trouble eating a cupcake...I do that too.
Her body image is distorted...so is mine.
They look so sick. How do they not see that?
15 years?!? They've been fighting for 15 years?!? I can't do that. Will I ever have a "normal" relationship with food?
and the scariest one...
A woman says that she has always wanted to be thin. If this is what it took then so be it. If she had to die to be thin and least she would have made it. My thought: I've felt the very same way
There was even a point in the movie where they show the residents eating in the dining hall and I think "if they gave me that plate of food it would make me anxious and stressed out." An eating disorder recovery clinic dinner would stress me out?!
And that's only 35 minutes in. My husband suggested we stop watching. He said I'm not ready. My biggest fear is that I'll never be ready to watch something like that. That I'll always be stuck...wondering if I have a "real" eating disorder. Feeling guilty that I'm getting treated for something when there are so many girls and women who's bodies are shutting down worse than mine.
How do I get out of this?
Fast forward to this afternoon. A rare afternoon that my husband and I have some time to spend together. We go mini golfing (I win :)) and then we head home for lunch. I ask if he wants to watch this while we eat and he says "sure." That's when it all goes downhill...
We get through the first 15 minutes that I've already seen and we keep watching. I was able to watch 35 minutes before I had to stop the movie. There were so many thoughts and feelings running through my head that I needed to stop and breathe...
These girls weight 86 pounds. They have real eating disorders. Who am I to think that my stupid problem is a true eating disorder.
I don't throw up like they do. Maybe I don't have an eating disorder.
Oh, that girl is having trouble eating a cupcake...I do that too.
Her body image is distorted...so is mine.
They look so sick. How do they not see that?
15 years?!? They've been fighting for 15 years?!? I can't do that. Will I ever have a "normal" relationship with food?
and the scariest one...
A woman says that she has always wanted to be thin. If this is what it took then so be it. If she had to die to be thin and least she would have made it. My thought: I've felt the very same way
There was even a point in the movie where they show the residents eating in the dining hall and I think "if they gave me that plate of food it would make me anxious and stressed out." An eating disorder recovery clinic dinner would stress me out?!
And that's only 35 minutes in. My husband suggested we stop watching. He said I'm not ready. My biggest fear is that I'll never be ready to watch something like that. That I'll always be stuck...wondering if I have a "real" eating disorder. Feeling guilty that I'm getting treated for something when there are so many girls and women who's bodies are shutting down worse than mine.
How do I get out of this?
Dad
I've had a rough couple of days. I've been feeling down, lonely and have been very focused on what I've been eating. At my last appointment with my nutritionist she raised my daily calorie amount by 100. This was on June 7th. I've hit my target three times. That's 3 out of 12, or as she likes to look at it 25%. If I saw her today and shared that with her she would tell me that 25% is unacceptable. My response: "but I don't miss it by much." Her response: "why?" I don't have an excuse answer. I was at a loss as to why I was all of a sudden feeling so bad. I had been doing so well and feeling great. My energy was up as well as my mood. I even went to Maryland on Friday night to see a boy band concert with my best friend in the whole world...even that didn't cheer me up.
Then Sunday evening I have a revelation: it's Father's Day. After my Dad died we would go to the cemetary on Father's Day and have our own little celebration. That only lasted a few years. Eventually it became just another day. As time has marched on the sadness that came along with every June has lost some of it's power...until this year. Like I said, I had been feeling down for days and was at a loss as to the cause of it. Sunday evening I logged onto facebook and I saw a million pictures and messages that people had posted saying how great their Dad was. I started to cry. Facebook actually made me cry. I was so upset that I logged off and couldn't go on the rest of the night. Luckily the next day I had a therapy appointment...in swoops Barb (my therapist) to save me...again.
I can not stress how much I LOVE her. I can talk about myself for a whole hour without feeling judged or guilty or selfish. That doesn't occur anywhere else in my life. I told her what was going on and we started to explore my feelings :) Feelings...complicated, wonderful, terrifying things that they are. As we talked I realized just how much I had been effected by Father's Day and how deep the hurt really goes. She even related it to my current married life...it kind of blew my mind. I sat there after having made a realization that I haven't gotten close to my (wonderful) father-in-law because I was felt like I was replacing my Dad and just looked at her. I couldn't believe that after all of these years (15) that I was still worried about something like that.
After having turned it over in my brain for days I also realized something else...the stem of some of the original weight loss. I had lost my Dad at 15 - heartbreaking pain. I had dated somebody for almost 4 years thinking we would get married and out of nowhere he broke up with me - heartbreaking pain. Result: it's time to change. If I can change (i.e. lost weight, get control of my life) then maybe, just maybe, this kind of pain won't happen again. It was my way to cope and now that I'm working to give up that control I have to learn how to cope with the pain again (my therapist's words but I like them).
It's been a few days and I'm feeling much better, at least about that anyway. I've started to convince myself that my jeans are tight and I've gained the weight I need to and I should be about done with that...but that's another post.
Then Sunday evening I have a revelation: it's Father's Day. After my Dad died we would go to the cemetary on Father's Day and have our own little celebration. That only lasted a few years. Eventually it became just another day. As time has marched on the sadness that came along with every June has lost some of it's power...until this year. Like I said, I had been feeling down for days and was at a loss as to the cause of it. Sunday evening I logged onto facebook and I saw a million pictures and messages that people had posted saying how great their Dad was. I started to cry. Facebook actually made me cry. I was so upset that I logged off and couldn't go on the rest of the night. Luckily the next day I had a therapy appointment...in swoops Barb (my therapist) to save me...again.
I can not stress how much I LOVE her. I can talk about myself for a whole hour without feeling judged or guilty or selfish. That doesn't occur anywhere else in my life. I told her what was going on and we started to explore my feelings :) Feelings...complicated, wonderful, terrifying things that they are. As we talked I realized just how much I had been effected by Father's Day and how deep the hurt really goes. She even related it to my current married life...it kind of blew my mind. I sat there after having made a realization that I haven't gotten close to my (wonderful) father-in-law because I was felt like I was replacing my Dad and just looked at her. I couldn't believe that after all of these years (15) that I was still worried about something like that.
After having turned it over in my brain for days I also realized something else...the stem of some of the original weight loss. I had lost my Dad at 15 - heartbreaking pain. I had dated somebody for almost 4 years thinking we would get married and out of nowhere he broke up with me - heartbreaking pain. Result: it's time to change. If I can change (i.e. lost weight, get control of my life) then maybe, just maybe, this kind of pain won't happen again. It was my way to cope and now that I'm working to give up that control I have to learn how to cope with the pain again (my therapist's words but I like them).
It's been a few days and I'm feeling much better, at least about that anyway. I've started to convince myself that my jeans are tight and I've gained the weight I need to and I should be about done with that...but that's another post.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
my body is amazing
I found this from Hungry Running Girl who found it from Villainy Loveless
I had to share:
Today at work I was told by a stranger that I was big and broad
like a football player. The man then proceeded to puff up his chest and
spread his arms wide laughing. Just in case I didn’t understand what he
meant I guess, how very kind of him to offer visual clarification.
Perhaps it was the shocked look on my face and inability to find words
that gave him the impression I may have needed further exposition. That
silence didn’t last long mind you, and as the clouds of disbelief in
what this stranger had just said quickly dissipated, they gave way to a
retort along the lines of, “you’d better shut your mouth now and leave
before I toss you out like an actual football player.” However quick my
response was though, that was still how my day started, mildly horrified
that this man had felt the need to openly judge and insult me for no
other reason than the fact that I happened to be standing behind the
counter in front of him. Standing there in the body I was blessed with,
the one directly inherited from my strong Viking ancestors. Was I
suppose to apologize for not being a delicate flower or something? If
so I hadn’t received the memo.
His words hung heavy (pun intended) on my mind all afternoon. That small moment, that one thing had deflated me. I stood there afterwards serving customer after customer with my shoulders hunched feeling like an immense expansive being. A bulky hulking figure, blocking paths and views of the skyline.
I had to choose how it was going to affect me, or at least how I was going to show how it affected me. I decided to make light of it, so when a coworker asked what I was having for lunch, I replied, “Oh you know, the usual, small buildings, cars and wayward townsfolk.” Laughter makes things better after all, right? Riiiiiiiight?! Who was that man anyhow, and what did he know? But as I left to forage for lunch and the smell of pizza from the shop beside me called like a siren song to my slightly hungover body, the guilt and shame of my size and frame still hung heavy on my mind. I had a salad.
Now in my mind, my rational, educated mind, I know that what he said wasn’t true. Or wait, was it? Was I actually this huge monster and I’ve just never realized it before now? Was he the first one brave enough to let me in on the big secret? Maybe he saw something I couldn’t see. Maybe all my friends were just being nice. Maybe every photo of me EVER taken happened to be at just the right angle that I didn’t notice my imposing frame. Here I thought it was my personality that was larger than life, but perhaps it was just me all around. Dear Lord, have I been living in sweet oblivion?
What a difference a day makes, or in my case a few seconds. Still coming down from a euphoric high after the Burlesque Hall of Fame, I never expected to suddenly come crashing down so low. I have been walking with my head a little higher and my smile more frequent and genuine since returning from such an inspiring weekend. Having had the opportunity to perform and share a very personal duet about struggling with inner demons to find self-love and self-acceptance was a truly honouring experience. The roar of thunderous applause as the lights dimmed and we stepped off stage filled me with a new passion, more fire, and a reassurance that what I am doing, what I am pouring my heart into, actually matters. The tremendous support, encouraging words and overwhelmingly positive feedback about our number has been staggering. Beautiful, poignant and inspiring are words I keep hearing and will never tire of their power. But then there I was, feeling like a fraud, eating my side salad, no dressing. How ironic. How disappointing that the words of one man, one stranger, could fill my mind with such self doubt, when there were so many more kind words from friends, family, colleagues and idols that I could have been reflecting upon. How fragile everyday can be. I should probably take this moment to let you know that I have a sordid history with eating disorders, body image issues and self harm. One of the reasons our number was so important to me, and one of the reasons this little man’s words could deflate me in seconds I suppose.
I will never be willowy, dainty or petite. I could lose a hundred pounds and I would still have wide shoulders and a high set ribcage. However, I have worked hard to be proud of the body I have been given. My body is strong and built to last. My body bends and twists and allows me to pet all the cute dogs that cross my path. My body can hold open doors for frail old ladies and carry my bags of groceries home. My body allows me to laugh and drink and scream and spoon. My body transports me over hard rain soaked cement and soft sun kissed sand. My body allows me to tremble with pleasure and cry out in pain. My body allows me to dance and share my art, connect with people and move them to tears with the beauty it can express.
I feel bad for that poor man who can only see my body’s shape rather than its potential, because my body is amazing.
I had to share:
My body is amazing.
His words hung heavy (pun intended) on my mind all afternoon. That small moment, that one thing had deflated me. I stood there afterwards serving customer after customer with my shoulders hunched feeling like an immense expansive being. A bulky hulking figure, blocking paths and views of the skyline.
I had to choose how it was going to affect me, or at least how I was going to show how it affected me. I decided to make light of it, so when a coworker asked what I was having for lunch, I replied, “Oh you know, the usual, small buildings, cars and wayward townsfolk.” Laughter makes things better after all, right? Riiiiiiiight?! Who was that man anyhow, and what did he know? But as I left to forage for lunch and the smell of pizza from the shop beside me called like a siren song to my slightly hungover body, the guilt and shame of my size and frame still hung heavy on my mind. I had a salad.
Now in my mind, my rational, educated mind, I know that what he said wasn’t true. Or wait, was it? Was I actually this huge monster and I’ve just never realized it before now? Was he the first one brave enough to let me in on the big secret? Maybe he saw something I couldn’t see. Maybe all my friends were just being nice. Maybe every photo of me EVER taken happened to be at just the right angle that I didn’t notice my imposing frame. Here I thought it was my personality that was larger than life, but perhaps it was just me all around. Dear Lord, have I been living in sweet oblivion?
What a difference a day makes, or in my case a few seconds. Still coming down from a euphoric high after the Burlesque Hall of Fame, I never expected to suddenly come crashing down so low. I have been walking with my head a little higher and my smile more frequent and genuine since returning from such an inspiring weekend. Having had the opportunity to perform and share a very personal duet about struggling with inner demons to find self-love and self-acceptance was a truly honouring experience. The roar of thunderous applause as the lights dimmed and we stepped off stage filled me with a new passion, more fire, and a reassurance that what I am doing, what I am pouring my heart into, actually matters. The tremendous support, encouraging words and overwhelmingly positive feedback about our number has been staggering. Beautiful, poignant and inspiring are words I keep hearing and will never tire of their power. But then there I was, feeling like a fraud, eating my side salad, no dressing. How ironic. How disappointing that the words of one man, one stranger, could fill my mind with such self doubt, when there were so many more kind words from friends, family, colleagues and idols that I could have been reflecting upon. How fragile everyday can be. I should probably take this moment to let you know that I have a sordid history with eating disorders, body image issues and self harm. One of the reasons our number was so important to me, and one of the reasons this little man’s words could deflate me in seconds I suppose.
I will never be willowy, dainty or petite. I could lose a hundred pounds and I would still have wide shoulders and a high set ribcage. However, I have worked hard to be proud of the body I have been given. My body is strong and built to last. My body bends and twists and allows me to pet all the cute dogs that cross my path. My body can hold open doors for frail old ladies and carry my bags of groceries home. My body allows me to laugh and drink and scream and spoon. My body transports me over hard rain soaked cement and soft sun kissed sand. My body allows me to tremble with pleasure and cry out in pain. My body allows me to dance and share my art, connect with people and move them to tears with the beauty it can express.
I feel bad for that poor man who can only see my body’s shape rather than its potential, because my body is amazing.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
p.s.
I can't seem to listen to advice from my recovery team either:
Nurse: Don't run until you get an EKG and it's reviewed (my chest gets tight when I run): fail
Therapist: Don't run more than 2 miles per day and 4 days a week: fail
Running is supposed to help relieve stress. Liar.
Nurse: Don't run until you get an EKG and it's reviewed (my chest gets tight when I run): fail
Therapist: Don't run more than 2 miles per day and 4 days a week: fail
Running is supposed to help relieve stress. Liar.
helmet required
I'm stressed out.
My work schedule changes in the summer and it seems that it's just not enough...at least not right now. Money has always stressed me out. I can remember being a teenager and our family being on a "budget crunch." My brother and I just laughed it off. It's what my mom said when she didn't want to buy us what we wanted. I think that might be where my money stress stems from. I'm terrified, TERRIFIED, of running out of money. Aside from food it's what I spend the most time stressing about. Up until a few years ago it surpassed food.
So now that I'm stressed out what do I focus on...my eating.
If I can think about that then I won't have to worry about bills or figuring out what money is going where. It gives me something else to worry about, obsess about.
I've been saving money to buy myself a Kindle Fire. I haven't bought myself anything big in a very, very long time. I track the miles that I walk everybody and put $1 into my savings account for every mile walked. My goal is to save enough money to get a Kindle Fire, a plug and a case. I'm about 25 miles away, or $25. I've been doing this since April 1st and my goal is to have enough by July 1st. I've tried so hard not to dip into my savings but when I'm so stressed out about paying bills why would I not use that money? Is it that terrible if my Kindle gets pushed back a little? Yes. Then I ask myself why. Is it because I'm selfish and just want a new toy? A tiny bit. Is it because if I don't meet my goal I'll feel like I've failed at something else? (controlling hunger, my eating, my recovery)...yes. I know this entire process (recovery) is about figuring out how to live without restriction, blame and guilt. I know that it will not be a smooth, easy road yet whenever I hit a bump I just punish myself...."I've failed again". If my words were being said to me by a friend of mine I would tell them that they're crazy. They should be proud for even starting this journey and for how far they've come. I can't seem to say that to myself. All I see is that I still restrict, still feel guilty, still freak out about gaining weight, still try to avoid gaining and calories (I haven't hit my new calorie goal in almost 2 weeks).
If I stop and really try to understand the stress surrounding the money and using some of my Kindle savings for bills I realize that it's just money...it's just a Kindle...and it's effecting my recovery. Is a Kindle worth damaging my body? Worth a slow heartbeat and weak bones? Worth damage that could make it difficult to have a baby? Not at all.
This is just another bump in the road. It's a good thing I'm wearing a helmet.
My work schedule changes in the summer and it seems that it's just not enough...at least not right now. Money has always stressed me out. I can remember being a teenager and our family being on a "budget crunch." My brother and I just laughed it off. It's what my mom said when she didn't want to buy us what we wanted. I think that might be where my money stress stems from. I'm terrified, TERRIFIED, of running out of money. Aside from food it's what I spend the most time stressing about. Up until a few years ago it surpassed food.
So now that I'm stressed out what do I focus on...my eating.
If I can think about that then I won't have to worry about bills or figuring out what money is going where. It gives me something else to worry about, obsess about.
I've been saving money to buy myself a Kindle Fire. I haven't bought myself anything big in a very, very long time. I track the miles that I walk everybody and put $1 into my savings account for every mile walked. My goal is to save enough money to get a Kindle Fire, a plug and a case. I'm about 25 miles away, or $25. I've been doing this since April 1st and my goal is to have enough by July 1st. I've tried so hard not to dip into my savings but when I'm so stressed out about paying bills why would I not use that money? Is it that terrible if my Kindle gets pushed back a little? Yes. Then I ask myself why. Is it because I'm selfish and just want a new toy? A tiny bit. Is it because if I don't meet my goal I'll feel like I've failed at something else? (controlling hunger, my eating, my recovery)...yes. I know this entire process (recovery) is about figuring out how to live without restriction, blame and guilt. I know that it will not be a smooth, easy road yet whenever I hit a bump I just punish myself...."I've failed again". If my words were being said to me by a friend of mine I would tell them that they're crazy. They should be proud for even starting this journey and for how far they've come. I can't seem to say that to myself. All I see is that I still restrict, still feel guilty, still freak out about gaining weight, still try to avoid gaining and calories (I haven't hit my new calorie goal in almost 2 weeks).
If I stop and really try to understand the stress surrounding the money and using some of my Kindle savings for bills I realize that it's just money...it's just a Kindle...and it's effecting my recovery. Is a Kindle worth damaging my body? Worth a slow heartbeat and weak bones? Worth damage that could make it difficult to have a baby? Not at all.
This is just another bump in the road. It's a good thing I'm wearing a helmet.
Thursday, June 6, 2013
The Greatest Map
lost - adj. 1. no longer possessed or retained 2. no longer to be found 3. having gone astray or missed the way; bewildered as to place, direction, etc
I am lost. Lost in my own life. Lost in my own mind and body. Lost in God.
I can't seem to find my way out of any of it and without God I don't think I will.
I've grown up going to a few different churches. I went to a religious college. I've always had faith in God. That's never been a question, even through tragedy and anger. For the first time, in a long time, I feel like I'm struggling to find that relationship with God. I haven't lost my faith. I've lost my commitment.
After college I searched for a long time to find a church that I loved. When my husband and I were planning our wedding he told me a church that he wanted to get married. It was where his parents were married and his grandmother still attended. I called the Pastor and we set up a meeting with her. We started to attend and I fell in love with the church and Pastor Sandi. She is one of the most generous, kind, thoughtful souls I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Every time she leaves me a voicemail message or sends me an e-mail she ends with "love you both" (meaning my husband and me). The congregation embraced us with open arms and it didn't take long to feel like a real part of their church family.
With a place like that how could I possibly feel like my relationship with God is struggling? Easy. I haven't been putting into it nearly as much and I've been expecting.
God provides for me every single day. Without His blessing I wouldn't be in treatment. He saved my life, again. So why can't I seem to get it together and give Him a small fraction of what He's given to me?
I have manyreasons excuses for not going to church every Sunday: I have to work, I worked late the night before, I've been there (this many) weeks in a row, I'm tired (it's sad but true). What if Jesus had decided that He didn't want to sacfice himself for me. That he was busy (trying to save the world) or tired.
I like to quote scripture that tells me what God can do for me:
"Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest" Matthew 11:28
"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11
I like knowing that God will give me rest when I am weary ( most of the time) and has a plan for me when I have no idea where I'm supposed to be going (all of the time). But I've come to see that I ignore the scripture that tells me what is required to be a follower of Christ:
"He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." Micah 6:8
But what does that mean?
I read an article that spoke about surrender and self-sacrifice. They are related like a root and a fruit. The root is surrender (surrendering all to God) and the fruit is self-sacrifice (sacrificing our plans and possessions for God's plan). How do I even begin to find a way in Christ if I'm not willing to do this? Maybe this is a good place to start.
"But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us" Romans 5:8
I am lost. Lost in my own life. Lost in my own mind and body. Lost in God.
I can't seem to find my way out of any of it and without God I don't think I will.
I've grown up going to a few different churches. I went to a religious college. I've always had faith in God. That's never been a question, even through tragedy and anger. For the first time, in a long time, I feel like I'm struggling to find that relationship with God. I haven't lost my faith. I've lost my commitment.
After college I searched for a long time to find a church that I loved. When my husband and I were planning our wedding he told me a church that he wanted to get married. It was where his parents were married and his grandmother still attended. I called the Pastor and we set up a meeting with her. We started to attend and I fell in love with the church and Pastor Sandi. She is one of the most generous, kind, thoughtful souls I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Every time she leaves me a voicemail message or sends me an e-mail she ends with "love you both" (meaning my husband and me). The congregation embraced us with open arms and it didn't take long to feel like a real part of their church family.
With a place like that how could I possibly feel like my relationship with God is struggling? Easy. I haven't been putting into it nearly as much and I've been expecting.
God provides for me every single day. Without His blessing I wouldn't be in treatment. He saved my life, again. So why can't I seem to get it together and give Him a small fraction of what He's given to me?
I have many
I like to quote scripture that tells me what God can do for me:
"Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest" Matthew 11:28
"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11
I like knowing that God will give me rest when I am weary ( most of the time) and has a plan for me when I have no idea where I'm supposed to be going (all of the time). But I've come to see that I ignore the scripture that tells me what is required to be a follower of Christ:
"He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." Micah 6:8
But what does that mean?
I read an article that spoke about surrender and self-sacrifice. They are related like a root and a fruit. The root is surrender (surrendering all to God) and the fruit is self-sacrifice (sacrificing our plans and possessions for God's plan). How do I even begin to find a way in Christ if I'm not willing to do this? Maybe this is a good place to start.
"But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us" Romans 5:8
Friday, May 31, 2013
Thursday, May 30, 2013
asparagus...no, mac and cheese...no, asparagus...
This is the current battle raging inside of my head.
The explanation? Going out to dinner. "Let's go out to eat" - "Let's meet up for dinner" - "We'll have to grab something on the way to (insert destination)" The amount of fear that those phrases inflict is mind blowing. What should be a relaxed night out with my husband, family or friends is overshadowed by my fear of a menu or restaurant that refuses to post nutrition information.
I was married almost 2 years ago. August 27. The first week in December we took a fabulous honeymoon - a 10 days Eastern Caribbean cruise. I was beyond excited. I love to cruise and my husband had never been on a cruise. I really talked it up and I couldn't want to share it with him. I had a mild fear going into this knowing that there was food available ALL of the time on a ship. My first cruise was before I lost any weight. My second cruise was a few months after I started losing weight, before I severely restricted. This was my third cruise and my far the most stressful. The amount of time I spent worrying about what I was eating, working out (which made me sick while the boat was sailing but which I continued to do anyway) and trying to find a scale to weigh myself is heart breaking. After that I said that I wouldn't do that again. I came back from the cruise having gained ZERO weight and thought that they next time we went on vacation it would be easy.
Now I can't even enjoy a restaurant without stress and anxiety.
My current predicament: Girls Night Out Dinner at a wonderful, upscale seafood restaurant. I LOVE fish and shrimp. I always have. I've come to love it more since I realized that it had little to no fat and was very low in calories. I've been to this restaurant twice. There is a particular side dish that I've lusted over but have yet to order...lobster mac and cheese. The rational side of my brain says that it's just a side dish, how much harm can it do. The ED side (which is usually the winner) says that it's MAC AND CHEESE!!! It's loaded with cheese and cream and milk...and who knows what else. There is nothing about that that is good for you. You're much better off ordering vegetables. At least you'll get some kind of nutritional benefit. The mac and cheese will not benefit you in any way.
I've been torn for days. I had a mini breakdown last night and have started to worry my husband (again). When will I stop having bad days? Will I ever stop having bad days? Why can't I be "normal" and not worry about what I'm eating?...What will I order for dinner??
The explanation? Going out to dinner. "Let's go out to eat" - "Let's meet up for dinner" - "We'll have to grab something on the way to (insert destination)" The amount of fear that those phrases inflict is mind blowing. What should be a relaxed night out with my husband, family or friends is overshadowed by my fear of a menu or restaurant that refuses to post nutrition information.
I was married almost 2 years ago. August 27. The first week in December we took a fabulous honeymoon - a 10 days Eastern Caribbean cruise. I was beyond excited. I love to cruise and my husband had never been on a cruise. I really talked it up and I couldn't want to share it with him. I had a mild fear going into this knowing that there was food available ALL of the time on a ship. My first cruise was before I lost any weight. My second cruise was a few months after I started losing weight, before I severely restricted. This was my third cruise and my far the most stressful. The amount of time I spent worrying about what I was eating, working out (which made me sick while the boat was sailing but which I continued to do anyway) and trying to find a scale to weigh myself is heart breaking. After that I said that I wouldn't do that again. I came back from the cruise having gained ZERO weight and thought that they next time we went on vacation it would be easy.
Now I can't even enjoy a restaurant without stress and anxiety.
My current predicament: Girls Night Out Dinner at a wonderful, upscale seafood restaurant. I LOVE fish and shrimp. I always have. I've come to love it more since I realized that it had little to no fat and was very low in calories. I've been to this restaurant twice. There is a particular side dish that I've lusted over but have yet to order...lobster mac and cheese. The rational side of my brain says that it's just a side dish, how much harm can it do. The ED side (which is usually the winner) says that it's MAC AND CHEESE!!! It's loaded with cheese and cream and milk...and who knows what else. There is nothing about that that is good for you. You're much better off ordering vegetables. At least you'll get some kind of nutritional benefit. The mac and cheese will not benefit you in any way.
I've been torn for days. I had a mini breakdown last night and have started to worry my husband (again). When will I stop having bad days? Will I ever stop having bad days? Why can't I be "normal" and not worry about what I'm eating?...What will I order for dinner??
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Your Assignments for Life on Earth
I saw this on http://hungryrunninggirl.wordpress.com and had to share it.
YOUR ASSIGNMENTS FOR LIFE ON EARTH
1. You Will Receive A Body.
You may like it or not, but it will be yours for the entire period this time around.
2. You Will Learn Lessons.
You are enrolled in a full-time, informal school called Life. Each
day in this school you will have the opportunity to learn lessons. You
may like the lesson or think them irrelevant and stupid.
3. There Are No Mistakes, Only Lessons.
Growth is a process of trial and error, experimentation. The
“failed” experiments are as much a part of the process as the experiment
that Ultimately “works”.
4. A Lesson Is Repeated Until It Is Learned.
A lesson will be presented to you in various forms until you have learned it, then you can go on to the next lesson.
5. Learning Lessons Does Not End.
There is no part of Life that does not contain it’s lessons. If you are alive, there are lessons to be learned.
6. “There” Is No Better Than “Here”.
When your “there” has become a “here”, you will simply obtain another “there” that will, again, look better than “here”.
7. Others Are Merely Mirrors Of You.
You cannot love or hate something about another person unless it reflects to you something you love or hate about yourself.
8. What You Make Of Your Life Is Up To You.
You have all the tools and resources you need; what you do with them is up to you. The choice is yours.
9. The Answers Lie Inside You.
The answers to life’s questions lie inside you. All you need to do is Look, Listen and Trust.
10. Whether You Think You Can Or Can’t, In Either Case You’ll Be Right.
Think About It.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
guaranteed to satisfy
There are many times over the past few days that I've wanted to blog but I either haven't felt like it or haven't found the time. I think I need to do it no matter how I'm feeling. It always seems to help. This post isn't going to be a negative one...well, not much of it.
I have taken a huge step!
I ate an entire candy bar!
Not half, not just a bite, not a mini...an entire full size candy bar. And it was delicious.
About a week ago my nutritionist changed my eating plan yet again. She has me eating more calories, more fat and a dessert (ice cream, cake, cookies, pie) every single day. She also added a candy bar into the mix. Now I realize that this might sound like a gift to some people but many guilty feelings accompany a delicious dessert. I've been doing this for about a week and I feel less guilty every time I eat something. I've been sticking to either chocolate chip cookies or Neapolitan ice cream with pretzels. I also ate my candy bar. Curtis and I each had a snickers last night. I can't remember the last time I ate a snickers. They're my favorite candy bar so I've always had this fear that if I eat even a little bit (or a mini) I won't be able to control myself and I'll just keep eating them. Well I did eat one and that didn't happen. I ate it, felt extremely satisfied and moved on. I didn't even feel guilty...which made me feel guilty for NOT feeling guilty. I realize how crazy that sounds. I'm working on that.
It was a big step and I feel awesome that I was able to do that. Now I know that if I want candy, I can eat candy.
My mom joined me in my therapy session yesterday and I was so grateful. There have been many times that I've tried to explain my eating to her and what I need to do/change in order to conquer this and it never seems to come out right. My therapist, Barb, is wonderful and really helped her understand (I hope!). I've spent most of my life taking care of everybody and it's time that I pulled back and took care of myself for awhile. I need to take myself out of the middle of everything. We'll see how that goes.
I have taken a huge step!
I ate an entire candy bar!
Not half, not just a bite, not a mini...an entire full size candy bar. And it was delicious.
About a week ago my nutritionist changed my eating plan yet again. She has me eating more calories, more fat and a dessert (ice cream, cake, cookies, pie) every single day. She also added a candy bar into the mix. Now I realize that this might sound like a gift to some people but many guilty feelings accompany a delicious dessert. I've been doing this for about a week and I feel less guilty every time I eat something. I've been sticking to either chocolate chip cookies or Neapolitan ice cream with pretzels. I also ate my candy bar. Curtis and I each had a snickers last night. I can't remember the last time I ate a snickers. They're my favorite candy bar so I've always had this fear that if I eat even a little bit (or a mini) I won't be able to control myself and I'll just keep eating them. Well I did eat one and that didn't happen. I ate it, felt extremely satisfied and moved on. I didn't even feel guilty...which made me feel guilty for NOT feeling guilty. I realize how crazy that sounds. I'm working on that.
It was a big step and I feel awesome that I was able to do that. Now I know that if I want candy, I can eat candy.
My mom joined me in my therapy session yesterday and I was so grateful. There have been many times that I've tried to explain my eating to her and what I need to do/change in order to conquer this and it never seems to come out right. My therapist, Barb, is wonderful and really helped her understand (I hope!). I've spent most of my life taking care of everybody and it's time that I pulled back and took care of myself for awhile. I need to take myself out of the middle of everything. We'll see how that goes.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
another perspective
This was shared on facebook by a friend who has also struggled with an eating disorder. It's an article written by a husband whose wife is struggling with ED. As soon as I read it I shared it with Curt. I'm not a dancer but there are parts of this that I can so closely identify with that it scares me. I wanted to pass it along to anybody that might have family members who are battling the same thing. It's eye opening.
http://thoughtcatalog.com/2013/eat-your-heart-out-on-my-wifes-eating-disorder/
http://thoughtcatalog.com/2013/eat-your-heart-out-on-my-wifes-eating-disorder/
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
I'll have the flatbread...with a side of guilt.
I have always loved going out for meals. Any meal. When I was younger my mom would cook dinner every night. When my Dad died a lot of our routine changed, including that. For many years we would eat dinner out almost every day. Some days (mainly the weekends) we'd have breakfast and dinner out. This was our new routine. It worked for awhile. When I started to lose weight I continued to eat out, I just adjusted what I ate. It's when I began to count calories that I started to fear restaurants. I know many restaurants have nutritional information that is easily available, which I'm grateful for. To be honest (which is the point of this blog) I avoid restaurants that don't share their nutrition information. And by avoid I mean refuse to eat there. Even a few that do make it public but "have nothing I can eat" on their menu.
One of the restaurants that does share their information, and that I greatly enjoy, is Houlihan's. Last night my husband and I were going to a season reveal show at a local theatre and decided that we would have dinner at a nearby Houlihan's. I often get the same thing (because I know what I "can" and "can't" eat) but after looking at the nutrition information I decided on something else...a mushroom and arugula flatbread. I ordered it, excited that it was something new. My excitement grew when it came to our table. The crust was thin and crispy and the arugula was wilted with a touch of balsamic on the top. It was amazing. When our waitress came out to give us our bill and collect our plates I told her how much I enjoyed the flatbread. She responded by telling me that they recently changed it and now make the flatbread in house instead of using a frozen bread. Not only that but there's a layer or cheese that now comes on the bread so there's "a lot more" cheese than it originally had. As soon as I heard that my anxiety kicked it. My immediate panic was that the calorie count that I had in my head wasn't even close to what I had actually eaten. Well if that count wasn't right then exactly how many calories did I just consume?!?! I tried to not let this panic show, after all we were in public. When we got to the car my anxiety was still climbing. I tried to talk to my husband. He listened but he didn't understand. I don't really expect him to. Most of the evening I was so distracted by my anxiety that it took away from the show and a lovely date night with my husband. I was hungry when we got home (we eat dinner earlier than we usually do) but I was so afraid to eat because I was convinced that I had hit my "allowed" calories for the day. This would have meant that instead of the flatbread being 500, like I thought, it would have been 1,000 calories. I know in the rational part of my brain that that number isn't even close to the actual count but it still cared me. I ended up eating because I was hungry and I didn't want to go into the nutritionist which such a low number of calories for the day. She would not be pleased.
Tonight, a whole 24 hours later, I'm still anxious about it. I've been reluctant to eat what I have to for most of the day. I look forward to a day when I can eat a restaurant and instead of focusing on calories, focus on my husband and the love we share.
One of the restaurants that does share their information, and that I greatly enjoy, is Houlihan's. Last night my husband and I were going to a season reveal show at a local theatre and decided that we would have dinner at a nearby Houlihan's. I often get the same thing (because I know what I "can" and "can't" eat) but after looking at the nutrition information I decided on something else...a mushroom and arugula flatbread. I ordered it, excited that it was something new. My excitement grew when it came to our table. The crust was thin and crispy and the arugula was wilted with a touch of balsamic on the top. It was amazing. When our waitress came out to give us our bill and collect our plates I told her how much I enjoyed the flatbread. She responded by telling me that they recently changed it and now make the flatbread in house instead of using a frozen bread. Not only that but there's a layer or cheese that now comes on the bread so there's "a lot more" cheese than it originally had. As soon as I heard that my anxiety kicked it. My immediate panic was that the calorie count that I had in my head wasn't even close to what I had actually eaten. Well if that count wasn't right then exactly how many calories did I just consume?!?! I tried to not let this panic show, after all we were in public. When we got to the car my anxiety was still climbing. I tried to talk to my husband. He listened but he didn't understand. I don't really expect him to. Most of the evening I was so distracted by my anxiety that it took away from the show and a lovely date night with my husband. I was hungry when we got home (we eat dinner earlier than we usually do) but I was so afraid to eat because I was convinced that I had hit my "allowed" calories for the day. This would have meant that instead of the flatbread being 500, like I thought, it would have been 1,000 calories. I know in the rational part of my brain that that number isn't even close to the actual count but it still cared me. I ended up eating because I was hungry and I didn't want to go into the nutritionist which such a low number of calories for the day. She would not be pleased.
Tonight, a whole 24 hours later, I'm still anxious about it. I've been reluctant to eat what I have to for most of the day. I look forward to a day when I can eat a restaurant and instead of focusing on calories, focus on my husband and the love we share.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
N.O.
No. It's two letters. N. O. Why is it so hard to say?
I recently started my therapy sessions. It's the last part of my ED treatment that I needed to start. Now I'm on the fast track, or so they tell me. My therapist is a gift. I've only had 2 sessions with her but she's calming and easy to talk to. She knows what I'm going to say before I even say it. She never makes me feel like I'm crazy or irrational. It's a nice feeling. My first session was just a quick overview of what she does, how she goes about things...introductions. My last session (#2) was all about me. I spent the entire hour talking about my life. What it was like growing up, the history of my family, my parents marriage, my Dad's sudden death and the aftermath. To say that it was emotional is an understatement. Even now, almost a week later, I'm still in a funk. One of the main things we've talked about was my need to take care of other people. The more time I've spent thinking about this the more true it becomes. I have a really hard time saying no. To anybody. I'm a people pleaser. I have been my entire life. That trait is one of the many things that brought me to this place. Now don't get me wrong, I've had my selfish moments (several of them, depending on who you ask) but I wouldn't describe myself as selfish. Maybe it's time that I did. My first thoughts are "what will people think?" or "people will think I'm selfish. I don't want them to think badly of me." I have to realize that it doesn't matter what people think. Trying to please everybody along the way has made me forget who I am, how to be happy and what I truly want. I want a family and a future. I need to stop listening to the diet advice (eat 1200 calories...no eat 2500 calories. eat this super food...no eat this!) and start listening to my body. It's the only one I have and I want to use it for a long time. If that involves the word no then I'll have to learn how to say it with kindness. This is what I continue to work on.
I recently started my therapy sessions. It's the last part of my ED treatment that I needed to start. Now I'm on the fast track, or so they tell me. My therapist is a gift. I've only had 2 sessions with her but she's calming and easy to talk to. She knows what I'm going to say before I even say it. She never makes me feel like I'm crazy or irrational. It's a nice feeling. My first session was just a quick overview of what she does, how she goes about things...introductions. My last session (#2) was all about me. I spent the entire hour talking about my life. What it was like growing up, the history of my family, my parents marriage, my Dad's sudden death and the aftermath. To say that it was emotional is an understatement. Even now, almost a week later, I'm still in a funk. One of the main things we've talked about was my need to take care of other people. The more time I've spent thinking about this the more true it becomes. I have a really hard time saying no. To anybody. I'm a people pleaser. I have been my entire life. That trait is one of the many things that brought me to this place. Now don't get me wrong, I've had my selfish moments (several of them, depending on who you ask) but I wouldn't describe myself as selfish. Maybe it's time that I did. My first thoughts are "what will people think?" or "people will think I'm selfish. I don't want them to think badly of me." I have to realize that it doesn't matter what people think. Trying to please everybody along the way has made me forget who I am, how to be happy and what I truly want. I want a family and a future. I need to stop listening to the diet advice (eat 1200 calories...no eat 2500 calories. eat this super food...no eat this!) and start listening to my body. It's the only one I have and I want to use it for a long time. If that involves the word no then I'll have to learn how to say it with kindness. This is what I continue to work on.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
a good place to start
Welcome to my world. This blog is going to by my outlet...from stress, my life, my ED...my general routine. I don't have a place that I can say my thoughts and feelings without feeling like I'm being judged so I decided to blog. Though I suppose the internet is not where you put things that you want kept a secret :) I know I don't have any readers. If I never get them it's ok, but if you happen to stumble along, I'm glad you're here.
My life has been full of ups and downs, just like everybody else. This doesn't make me special or unique. What does make me special is the fact that I've gotten through the downs and have come back fighting. This fight feels different. I don't know if you would classify my relationship with food/eating as an "eating disorder", at least not in the most popular definition. I don't restrict completely and I don't binge/purge. I set out to be healthy and somewhere along the way it became an obsession. Now I'm trying to find my way out and back into a healthy life.
I've been overweight my entire life. I remember being in elementary school and being sad that I was bigger than the other girls. I didn't like field day because I was slow and would get winded very quickly. Gym class gave me anxiety not just in high school but all throughout school. I've never been able to wear a bikini like most of my friends. I would worry about getting married and being carried across the threshold; afraid that I would be too heavy for my new husband to lift. I was convinced I would never find love or somebody that would want to spend their life with me. I just wasn't attractive. Then I met a boy. We dated for almost four years and I was completely in love. I knew that we would spend our lives together until one day we thought differently. Our breakup devastated me. I was 25, obese and single. It wasn't a good place to be. After months of working through a broken heart I began to feel good again. I had started to accept that I may not meet anybody else and that was ok. I had other things in my life to fulfill me and I had a wonderful family. That all changed when I met Curt, but that's a different entry :)
During this time a few ladies that I worked with were getting ready to start the South Beach Diet. They asked if I was interested. When I did some research I saw that it was similar to the Atkins diet, which I had tried but couldn't sustain. I thought that I would give this a try. What did I have to lose?? The three of us started at the same time and after a week or two guess what...it worked!!! I saw results pretty quickly which just motivated me to keep going. I followed it pretty closely, changing my diet but not changing anything else. I couldn't believe that I was actually losing weight. I'd hit a plateau every now and then, change a few things and then break through. Eventually I hit one that I couldn't break - getting into One-derland (weight in the 100's). I tried a few different things to no avail. AT that point I started to add exercise and that worked! When I hit another plateau I started to count my calories. The power and control I felt was amazing. I no longer had surprises on the scale. If my weight was up a pound of two I knew it was water weight or just a normal fluctuation. I watched my calorie intake like a hawk. This is where I got into trouble. To make a long story short (as if this isn't long already) my mom and husband (Curt :)) had an intervention with me. Not the dramatic ones you see on TV but an honest, sit down talk with me to share their concerns. I knew they were founded but I thought that it was something I could take control of and change. I didn't HAVE to count calories, I WANTED to count them. Boy, was I wrong. Eventually my mom called my family doctor, who called me and then referred me an eating disorder doctor. I started treatment in October of 2012 and that's where I am now. It's still a struggle every single day and I have a LONG road ahead but I'm determined to get healthy again.
If you've found me and read this entry, thank you. If not, I don't mind. I feel better putting this out into the world. I struggle but I'm not afraid anymore. I'll be here tomorrow to take another step.
My life has been full of ups and downs, just like everybody else. This doesn't make me special or unique. What does make me special is the fact that I've gotten through the downs and have come back fighting. This fight feels different. I don't know if you would classify my relationship with food/eating as an "eating disorder", at least not in the most popular definition. I don't restrict completely and I don't binge/purge. I set out to be healthy and somewhere along the way it became an obsession. Now I'm trying to find my way out and back into a healthy life.
I've been overweight my entire life. I remember being in elementary school and being sad that I was bigger than the other girls. I didn't like field day because I was slow and would get winded very quickly. Gym class gave me anxiety not just in high school but all throughout school. I've never been able to wear a bikini like most of my friends. I would worry about getting married and being carried across the threshold; afraid that I would be too heavy for my new husband to lift. I was convinced I would never find love or somebody that would want to spend their life with me. I just wasn't attractive. Then I met a boy. We dated for almost four years and I was completely in love. I knew that we would spend our lives together until one day we thought differently. Our breakup devastated me. I was 25, obese and single. It wasn't a good place to be. After months of working through a broken heart I began to feel good again. I had started to accept that I may not meet anybody else and that was ok. I had other things in my life to fulfill me and I had a wonderful family. That all changed when I met Curt, but that's a different entry :)
During this time a few ladies that I worked with were getting ready to start the South Beach Diet. They asked if I was interested. When I did some research I saw that it was similar to the Atkins diet, which I had tried but couldn't sustain. I thought that I would give this a try. What did I have to lose?? The three of us started at the same time and after a week or two guess what...it worked!!! I saw results pretty quickly which just motivated me to keep going. I followed it pretty closely, changing my diet but not changing anything else. I couldn't believe that I was actually losing weight. I'd hit a plateau every now and then, change a few things and then break through. Eventually I hit one that I couldn't break - getting into One-derland (weight in the 100's). I tried a few different things to no avail. AT that point I started to add exercise and that worked! When I hit another plateau I started to count my calories. The power and control I felt was amazing. I no longer had surprises on the scale. If my weight was up a pound of two I knew it was water weight or just a normal fluctuation. I watched my calorie intake like a hawk. This is where I got into trouble. To make a long story short (as if this isn't long already) my mom and husband (Curt :)) had an intervention with me. Not the dramatic ones you see on TV but an honest, sit down talk with me to share their concerns. I knew they were founded but I thought that it was something I could take control of and change. I didn't HAVE to count calories, I WANTED to count them. Boy, was I wrong. Eventually my mom called my family doctor, who called me and then referred me an eating disorder doctor. I started treatment in October of 2012 and that's where I am now. It's still a struggle every single day and I have a LONG road ahead but I'm determined to get healthy again.
If you've found me and read this entry, thank you. If not, I don't mind. I feel better putting this out into the world. I struggle but I'm not afraid anymore. I'll be here tomorrow to take another step.
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