the A-word

I'm afraid of many things. Clowns. Getting stuck half way in in an under pass (that's who gets hit when cars fall off of bridges). Snakes. Heartbreak.

Anger.

I have never had trouble expressing my emotions. I never his them well. I didn't always express them the way I should but never the less they weren't often a secret, or so I thought. When I was deep into my relationship with Ed I was often unhappy, irritable and even angry. My mood never seemed to balance and it swung back and forth quickly. My relationships writing my family were strained and I couldn't figure out why. I felt like I was under a microscope and anytime I was in a bad mood everybody would point it out. It even got to the point that somebody I love told me that they didn't really like who I was anymore. That crushed me.

This road of self discovery that I've been thrown onto (not always voluntarily) has led me to discover that I often express my emotions but only the positive ones. My entire life (no, I'm not being dramatic) I have been afraid of disappointing people, mainly my parents. Whether it was my grades, extracurricular activities or my general disposition. It was easier to hide the anger I was feeling in fear that I would rock the boat. My boat was rocky enough growing up. The last thing I wanted was more waves. Ed just magnified the problem. Not only was I disappointing people but now the didn't want to be around me. Therapy has taught me the words "No" along with "I'm angry" will not make my world fall down around me. It's actually healthy to set limits and boundaries. Something I'm learning the hard way.

The point of all of this is that I thought I was getting better at being angry but that's not the case. Something happened to me recently that made me incredibly sad and then angry. I had no trouble telling the person invoked how hurt I was but the anger never formed into words. I made a bad decision so perhaps I don't feel like I have the right to be angry. But I am. I'm angry that the only thing that seemed to matter was the negative of the situation. Not the years of all the positive. Angry at myself that I let this influence my self worth and question what kind of person I am. Angry that I'm still hurting even after time has passed. I'm angry and I don't have to be afraid of that.

Another of the many lessons I'm learning along the way.

broken record

I'm tired. I don't feel good. I'm tired. I don't feel good.

These two thoughts run through my mind every day. Then they are followed by "you felt like that yesterday and the day before. You can't possibly feel run down and/or sick every day. Stop complaining. Nobody wants to hear it anyway. Everybody is tired after work."

Whenever my husband asks me how I feel the response is one of those two statements. Then, once again, the bully side of me steps in with a not-so-nice response.

I've talked to my care team about it. My nurse worries from time to time. She asks some questions and based on my response either tells me what to work on or orders blood work. My nutritionist responds in a similar fashion and we go over my meal plan and what I've been eating and make adjustments from there. My therapist takes an entirely different approach. She tells me that it's normal. It's a common part of recovery and I'm right where I need to be...in the middle on ThisSucksTown (my words. Not hers). She tells me that I've been ignoring my body for so long that finally tuning into it is overwhelming. I feel things on a larger scale. A normal end of the week tiredness to somebody else feels like fatigue to me. It can get to the point where I need to take a nap or I would fall over. No part of that feels normal.

My cycle has finally started to regulate. That's a positive. The negative? For the past two months it has been accompanied by illness. Not "oh I have cramps and feel bloated" illness but full blown flu symptoms. It sucks more than I can explain. The cause? Perhaps the energy that my hormones use weakens my immune system. The result?? Feeling crappy for 2 weeks out of the month. That's HALF of a month! I can't spend that much time feeling so run down.

Here we are 7 days out and I'm exhausted and have the hunger lever of a 17 year old boy. I knew recovery would be hard but this is so much more that I signed up for. I'm convinced that I'll feel like this forever. It's true that while smack in the middle of the eating disorder my body was suffering but I didn't physically feel it. Now that my body is getting healthy I feel terrible. This doesn't make sense to me. I can only hope that my treatment team is right and this will all even out. I feel like I'm just a spectator watching all the changes from the sidelines. I look forward to the day that I'll have the energy to actually participate in the game.

what if we are already good enough

I have never been touched by a blog post the way this one has touched my heart.

What if we are already good enough?


We are.

biggest loser???

Dear Biggest Loser,

I have spent countless hours on my couch tuned in to you. I've connected with your contestants, cheered them on, cried with them when they failed. I've found inspiration in your commitment to eating healthy and working hard. I've found motivation to learn about the food I eat, the exercise I participate in and how my body functions. I even grew to love Jillian so much that I voluntarily invited her into my living room to yell at me while working out.

You have also provided me with false expectations and a road full of failure so I'm breaking up with you. You present half truths. Yes working out 5 hours a day will help you lose weight but that isn't reality. People watch your show and feel inspired one minute and let down the next. A 120 pound weight loss journey should not only take seven months. You should not work out until you throw up, wipe your mouth and get back on the machine feeling proud. I realized 2 episodes into the current season (after said throw up workout) that you are no good for me. Then the finale happened. I log onto any news site and I see the following:

'Biggest Loser' winner: too thin?

'Biggest Loser': Uproar as winner appears too thin at 105 pounds

Social media erupt over 'Biggest Loser' winner

And it goes on and on and on. After turning you off your message still reaches me. You're too fat, lose weight. No, now you're too thin, gain weight. This is what happens. People get pushed...to be thin, to lose weight, to be the best, to win. I'm trying hard not to see myself in this situation. To realize that I'm different and I can rise above.

Maybe this will spark conversation about healthy and realistic weight loss. About lifestyle changes instead of diets. About being healthy instead of thin. About the women and men who set out to get healthy and get lost along the way.

I don't need you or any other reality show to show me how I should live.

this is reality. period.

I've learned (in my rich 31 years of life) that at the end of every relationship there are things that you miss...even the toxic relationships. My relationship with ED (eating disorder) is no different. I know that I probably shouldn't feel that way but I do. Even so then I should keep it to myself. I don't want to do that either. I'm going to venture down a road that not many people acknowledge...the positive aspects (in my head) of having an eating disorder.

No menstrual cycle. I know, I know...as a woman that is a sign that I can beat children and am, in fact, a woman. I've had a complicated battle with this. When I wasn't getting my period (before treatment)  it upset me because I wanted to have children so badly and I didn't know what was wrong. I never thought it could have something to do with my body weight or lack of fat. During my initial appointment with my nutritionist she told me that I wasn't getting a period because I wasn't eating enough fat. I thought she was crazy. No, she was right. As I got further into this process my period came back after 11 months. It was a happy moment and I thought it was a sign that I was better. The instant after that celebration I became scared. If that was true and I was "better" then why am I not "better"?

My cycle was irregular but at least it was a cycle. My therapist explained to me that when your body reaches about 90% of its healthy weight menstruation returns. They wanted me at 95% - 100% just in case I relapsed. I was ok with that because it gave me permission to gain weight and eat. That was 6 months ago. As I've gained weight and gotten into a "normal" cycle my panic has set In once again. Now I must be "better" because I'm on a 28-30 day cycle, right? I get all of the same symptoms that I did prior to the eating disorder so that's a good sign, right?? Recovery seems to have more questions than answers. Do I like that my body is getting healthy? Absolutely. Do I like that it's returning to normal? Not always. Am I terrified about want I "should" be doing or eating? Every single day. That tells me that although my body is restoring and repairing itself I'm not "all better" and I don't have to be. Note top self: this is not a race. There is no finish line. No winners or losers. No checkpoints that have to be reached by a certain point. Mandi this is your life. You need to learn to stop (I was actually trying to type appreciate but my Kindle auto corrected it to " stop". Lesson noticed).

*I started this entry a few days ago and has to stop in the middle of writing. In those few days I have (tried) to come to the fact that I don't fit into my jeans anymore. I knew this would happen eventually but nothing makes you feel better than not being able to zip your pants. I had a mini meltdown in my living room all by myself. This recovery feels like a cycle of really good and really crappy with not much in between. I'm in a crappy part. Where is the good??

stop calling me fat

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.

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.