Usually, I like to create some kind of cohesive post. This drive comes from the "writer" in my head having a conversaton with the "perfectionist." Today, though, I'm not much in the mood for cohesiveness. So, enjoy the random thoughts.
Addiction
I'm horrified to admit that I subscribe to the Gwyneth Paltrow newsletter, GOOP. First of all, what kind of name is this for a newsletter that is about the "nice things" in life? Anyway, she sends out recommendations for recipes, for shopping, for traveling. She likes to talk as if she's "one of us," but this is clearly not the case. Most of us do not jet-set to Paris to try Le Voltaire, one of her favorite lunch spots, which she describes as "a lovely place on the river with a lighter type of French fare." Eyeroll. I hate the word "lovely."
I digress. The latest newsletter is about addiction. Some of the Kabbalah people she interviews are a bit "out there" for me, but this resonated:
"...addiction is seen as a positive door to greater personal transformation, provided we understand these urges are coming from the soul, not the body. In a way, it is the deepest, truest part of ourselves saying, 'I am not satisfied.'"
I've always thought of my anorexia as an addiction. When I looked like death, people would say, "But aren't you hungry?" The honest answer was no, I wasn't hungry, not for food. I was hungry to continue playing the "How much less can I eat today?" game. I was hungry to see the number on the scale go lower. But, food? No. I was unhappy. I didn't want to really live. I wanted to numb out. And I guess that's why I relate to the idea that anorexia (or bulimia) is really a twisted way of communicating that unhappiness. Recovery is a bitch, but it offers an opportunity to find the root of that unhappiness and uncover peace. I know it's nothing revolutionary, but it still made me stop and think.
A grease stain
My beautiful bloggie friend and I went to dinner last night and I got the grilled vegetable quesadilla because it sounded good (gasp!). I'm getting better and better at ordering things based on what I feel like. Anyway, it was good. I even used the guacamole. I ate the whole thing. But, for some reason, it was super greasy. I felt a little uncomfortable about that, but not too much. I mean, what could it be? The oil from the veggies? The cheese? Cheese and oil are good for me. End of story. However, they are not so good for my clothes. See, the one napkin in my lap was not enough. When I got in my car after, I saw a grease stain on my jeans. My first thought was, "Shit." But, my second thought was, "Wow, that's pretty cool. I don't eat things that produce grease stains very often." Ha.
Paul Rudd
After dinner, we went to see "I Love You, Man" at the theater that welcomes movies that have been kicked out of the first-run theaters. The ticket guy was dressed in his usual hotdog costume. Ah, I love that place. We (bloggie friend and I, not hotdog guy and I) are both fans of Paul Rudd. Lusting after random men is one thing I like about recovery. Hormones are cool. As a follow-up to yesterday's post, I would say, "You know you're in recovery when you start to fantasize about guys again." I fantasize about Paul Rudd. And Joel McHale (host of "The Soup" on E!)... and the guy who does the financial reporting for Channel 4 local news... and Ryan Gosling... and "Jim Halpert" on "The Office"... and Luke Wilson. Need I go on?
That's it for my random thoughts. I'm going to make breakfast now.
***
Today's gratitude:
1. I got baseball tickets for my sister and I for June 20th. Angels vs. Dodgers. Woohoo!
2. I'm meeting my mom at the Del Amo mall today for lunch and shopping and talking. I can't wait.
3. I discovered another planet about 3 miles from my house. It's called "The District" and it really is its own planet. There is everything from a movie theater to Lowe's to Borders to one of my favorite restaurants, Marmalade Cafe (I thought they only had them in L.A.). Oh, and there's a Whole Foods, but it's the size of Costco (oh, there's also a Costco). I went inside and walked out 3 minutes later.
4. Rain in May. Shrug.
5. Hunger. I really am in need of breakfast right now.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
You know you're in relapse when...
Let me start off by saying that relapse is not a funny thing. Katie wrote a great post about relapse prevention and it got me thinking about my own slip-ups.
After inpatient treatment in 2001, I was at a healthy weight. I had a good relationship with food. I swore I would “never go back." I had my first real relationship. I was writing novels and short stories like crazy. I was happy. Really happy. Then I broke up with my boyfriend (my choice, but change is still hard) and anorexia whispered that it would be a great lover again. And we reconciled, anorexia and me. I lost weight. Not a lot, but enough. Maybe 10 pounds. Over the next couple years, I stayed at that weight, give or take a few. I met a new boy. I probably gained some weight when things were good. Then the love started to fade, and so did my interest in eating well. Along with that came what my family refers to as “The Mother’s Day Scourge.” At a barbecue, some kind of food poisoning took place (we’re still not sure what) and 10 or so of us got extremely sick. I was so bad that I couldn’t eat for days and I ended up having to go to the ER for dehydration. I’d lost some weight and that sent me over an edge. I wasn’t trying to lose the weight, of course. It just happened. My boyfriend and I ended up breaking up, which didn’t help matters. Before I knew it, I was in “relapse.” That was about 4 years ago now. I’ve got a pretty good grasp on things now, but I know that saying, “I’ll never go back” is dangerous for me. I’m humble to this illness because it just sneaks up on you. It takes advantage of breakups, life changes, sickness, whatever it can. It invades.
What scares me is how quickly anorexia can invade. I feel like I may have to be vigilant and alert for the rest of my life, watching for signs and signals of relapse, listening closely for the promises anorexia whispers. Maybe I’ll be able to ease up when I get more solid in recovery, but if not, I’m fine with that. I’ll take vigilance over anorexia any day. So, what are the signs and signals to look for? When do I know I'm headed for relapse? Or, rather, when do I know I’m in relapse? After all, looking back, I was in relapse long before I took notice of it and sought more intensive help. Well, in an attempt to keep some sense of humor about things, I started to think of this “You know you’re in relapse when…” list.
Note: You have to use a Jeff Foxworthy voice in your head when you read this.
You know you’re in relapse when a stick of gum sounds like a good snack.
You know you’re in relapse when the majority of your grocery bill consists of magazines featuring skinny models.
You know you’re in relapse when you use just-out-of-the-dryer jeans to convince yourself you need to lose weight.
You know you’re in relapse when you can’t remember the last time you said “Yes” to a social invitation.
You know you’re in relapse when you step on the scale as often as you brush your teeth.
You know you’re in relapse when you don’t even notice cute guys at the gym because you’re too busy counting your strides, your sit-ups, etc.
You know you’re in relapse when you start to count your pennies as diligently as you count your calories. (I’m a big believer in anorexia involving an overall restrictive mentality).
You know you’re in relapse when you can’t buy a food item without looking at the label.
You know you’re in relapse when you have a pair of skinny pants/shorts/whatever that you try on to make sure you’re “okay.”
You know you’re in relapse when you lie to people you love – about what you ate, about why you “can’t” go to a party or gathering, about reasons for your appearance (my favorite when I was in college was, "Well, I have to walk a lot across campus. That's probably why I've lost weight").
You know you’re in relapse when your fat-free salad dressing has a layover between the bottle and the bowl – a measuring spoon.
You know you’re in relapse when you start to pinch and squeeze your alleged fat.
You know you’re in relapse when you get fur on your face.
You know you’re in relapse when you catalog recipes for hours but never use them.
You know you’re in relapse when you get a high watching other people indulge.
You know you’re in relapse when the slightest interruption to your day (aka your eating schedule) gets your heart beating faster than it should.
You know you’re in relapse when you insist that you just don’t like ________. (Fill in the blank with carbs, sweets, whatever).
You know you’re in relapse when you consider a banana high-calorie.
You know you’re in relapse when nothing interests you.
You know you’re in relapse when it hurts to sit on your bony butt for the duration of a movie.
You know you’re in relapse when you get cold all the freaking time.
You know you’re in relapse when you don’t really care about the risk of osteoporosis or infertility or other health problems.
You know you’re in relapse when you close your eyes and see yourself as a balloon.
You know you’re in relapse when you can’t stand being around people, or being by yourself.
You know you’re in relapse when your body is on such high alert that you can’t sleep.
You know you’re in relapse when you miss your period…and it’s not because you’re pregnant because we all know you haven’t been having sex.
You know you’re in relapse when you forget what hormones feel like.
You know you’re in relapse when you can't imagine getting out.
For me, I think avoiding relapse involves therapy once a week, indefinitely. And I think it involves using a meal plan, but not abusing it. It also means saying “yes” to social outings, challenging myself at restaurants, letting go or changing up exercise routines, speaking up about what I want and how I feel, staying involved with a hobby or other activities that remind me I’m a whole person, sleeping well, spending money on fun, having girlfriends, going to the doctor to take care of myself, writing in my journal, staying away from the scale, keeping a mental list (or an actual list, knowing me) of things I'm looking forward to in life (could be an idea for another post).
I know starving is a choice. And I know it's a very appealing choice when there is any change in my life -- change of job, change of relationship, change of home. Even good changes can be a trigger. It starts so innocently -- leaving off the cheese on a sandwich, skipping a snack. Before I know it, I'm in it. Just like that. This is why I have a tough time believing that there is a recovery endpoint. It's a process for me. I have to be super aware of my choices in any situation, i.e., "Ok, I am taking this comment from my boss very personally and I don't want to eat my lunch, but I'm going to." There's effort there. Of course I hope it will be effortless some day, but that day is not today. I'm just happy I can recognize when I'm prone to relapse. And I know I have the ability to prevent it.
***
Today's gratitude:
1. "Kung Fu Panda." What a cute movie!
2. I have a "date" tomorrow with a girlfriend! Sadly, my Fridays are usually rather dull. But, we have plans to go to dinner and see a movie. How very normal and fun :)
3. Therapy with my husband. I'm glad he came. My therapist had never met him before and I think she has a good understanding of who he is and the basis of some of our arguments. I have absolute trust that she'll help me sort through some things. All I can do is focus on me, right?
4. I signed up for a free dance demo class in June. If I like the demo, I'll take the full class, which runs through August.
5. My sister and I are planning a baseball game day, as a pseudo-bachelorette party for her. We both love baseball. Our dad was a pitcher in the Twins organization way back when, so it's sort of a bonding thing in our family.
After inpatient treatment in 2001, I was at a healthy weight. I had a good relationship with food. I swore I would “never go back." I had my first real relationship. I was writing novels and short stories like crazy. I was happy. Really happy. Then I broke up with my boyfriend (my choice, but change is still hard) and anorexia whispered that it would be a great lover again. And we reconciled, anorexia and me. I lost weight. Not a lot, but enough. Maybe 10 pounds. Over the next couple years, I stayed at that weight, give or take a few. I met a new boy. I probably gained some weight when things were good. Then the love started to fade, and so did my interest in eating well. Along with that came what my family refers to as “The Mother’s Day Scourge.” At a barbecue, some kind of food poisoning took place (we’re still not sure what) and 10 or so of us got extremely sick. I was so bad that I couldn’t eat for days and I ended up having to go to the ER for dehydration. I’d lost some weight and that sent me over an edge. I wasn’t trying to lose the weight, of course. It just happened. My boyfriend and I ended up breaking up, which didn’t help matters. Before I knew it, I was in “relapse.” That was about 4 years ago now. I’ve got a pretty good grasp on things now, but I know that saying, “I’ll never go back” is dangerous for me. I’m humble to this illness because it just sneaks up on you. It takes advantage of breakups, life changes, sickness, whatever it can. It invades.
What scares me is how quickly anorexia can invade. I feel like I may have to be vigilant and alert for the rest of my life, watching for signs and signals of relapse, listening closely for the promises anorexia whispers. Maybe I’ll be able to ease up when I get more solid in recovery, but if not, I’m fine with that. I’ll take vigilance over anorexia any day. So, what are the signs and signals to look for? When do I know I'm headed for relapse? Or, rather, when do I know I’m in relapse? After all, looking back, I was in relapse long before I took notice of it and sought more intensive help. Well, in an attempt to keep some sense of humor about things, I started to think of this “You know you’re in relapse when…” list.
Note: You have to use a Jeff Foxworthy voice in your head when you read this.
You know you’re in relapse when a stick of gum sounds like a good snack.
You know you’re in relapse when the majority of your grocery bill consists of magazines featuring skinny models.
You know you’re in relapse when you use just-out-of-the-dryer jeans to convince yourself you need to lose weight.
You know you’re in relapse when you can’t remember the last time you said “Yes” to a social invitation.
You know you’re in relapse when you step on the scale as often as you brush your teeth.
You know you’re in relapse when you don’t even notice cute guys at the gym because you’re too busy counting your strides, your sit-ups, etc.
You know you’re in relapse when you start to count your pennies as diligently as you count your calories. (I’m a big believer in anorexia involving an overall restrictive mentality).
You know you’re in relapse when you can’t buy a food item without looking at the label.
You know you’re in relapse when you have a pair of skinny pants/shorts/whatever that you try on to make sure you’re “okay.”
You know you’re in relapse when you lie to people you love – about what you ate, about why you “can’t” go to a party or gathering, about reasons for your appearance (my favorite when I was in college was, "Well, I have to walk a lot across campus. That's probably why I've lost weight").
You know you’re in relapse when your fat-free salad dressing has a layover between the bottle and the bowl – a measuring spoon.
You know you’re in relapse when you start to pinch and squeeze your alleged fat.
You know you’re in relapse when you get fur on your face.
You know you’re in relapse when you catalog recipes for hours but never use them.
You know you’re in relapse when you get a high watching other people indulge.
You know you’re in relapse when the slightest interruption to your day (aka your eating schedule) gets your heart beating faster than it should.
You know you’re in relapse when you insist that you just don’t like ________. (Fill in the blank with carbs, sweets, whatever).
You know you’re in relapse when you consider a banana high-calorie.
You know you’re in relapse when nothing interests you.
You know you’re in relapse when it hurts to sit on your bony butt for the duration of a movie.
You know you’re in relapse when you get cold all the freaking time.
You know you’re in relapse when you don’t really care about the risk of osteoporosis or infertility or other health problems.
You know you’re in relapse when you close your eyes and see yourself as a balloon.
You know you’re in relapse when you can’t stand being around people, or being by yourself.
You know you’re in relapse when your body is on such high alert that you can’t sleep.
You know you’re in relapse when you miss your period…and it’s not because you’re pregnant because we all know you haven’t been having sex.
You know you’re in relapse when you forget what hormones feel like.
You know you’re in relapse when you can't imagine getting out.
For me, I think avoiding relapse involves therapy once a week, indefinitely. And I think it involves using a meal plan, but not abusing it. It also means saying “yes” to social outings, challenging myself at restaurants, letting go or changing up exercise routines, speaking up about what I want and how I feel, staying involved with a hobby or other activities that remind me I’m a whole person, sleeping well, spending money on fun, having girlfriends, going to the doctor to take care of myself, writing in my journal, staying away from the scale, keeping a mental list (or an actual list, knowing me) of things I'm looking forward to in life (could be an idea for another post).
I know starving is a choice. And I know it's a very appealing choice when there is any change in my life -- change of job, change of relationship, change of home. Even good changes can be a trigger. It starts so innocently -- leaving off the cheese on a sandwich, skipping a snack. Before I know it, I'm in it. Just like that. This is why I have a tough time believing that there is a recovery endpoint. It's a process for me. I have to be super aware of my choices in any situation, i.e., "Ok, I am taking this comment from my boss very personally and I don't want to eat my lunch, but I'm going to." There's effort there. Of course I hope it will be effortless some day, but that day is not today. I'm just happy I can recognize when I'm prone to relapse. And I know I have the ability to prevent it.
***
Today's gratitude:
1. "Kung Fu Panda." What a cute movie!
2. I have a "date" tomorrow with a girlfriend! Sadly, my Fridays are usually rather dull. But, we have plans to go to dinner and see a movie. How very normal and fun :)
3. Therapy with my husband. I'm glad he came. My therapist had never met him before and I think she has a good understanding of who he is and the basis of some of our arguments. I have absolute trust that she'll help me sort through some things. All I can do is focus on me, right?
4. I signed up for a free dance demo class in June. If I like the demo, I'll take the full class, which runs through August.
5. My sister and I are planning a baseball game day, as a pseudo-bachelorette party for her. We both love baseball. Our dad was a pitcher in the Twins organization way back when, so it's sort of a bonding thing in our family.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Filling holes
The brilliant Lola left a comment on my last post that said, "I think the key is to realise that the hole is created by trying to fill it." This made immediate sense to me. I have many moments when I feel lost, wondering, "Is this it?" The question pertains to recovery, to my marriage, to my job, to my writing career, to life in general. A long time ago, one of the first therapists I saw for my eating disorder said that my main issue was that I'm easily disappointed. Why, yes, that's true! I see now what she meant. She meant what Lola said -- the hole is created by trying to fill it.
With recovery, I keep thinking there is something MORE. I'm hesitant to call myself "recovered" because I think, "This can't be IT." But, maybe it is. Maybe this IS it. Yesterday, my husband and I went to a barbecue with my friend, J, and her boyfriend. As I've said before, J and I were in treatment together way back in 2001. We've stayed good friends. She considers herself "recovered." As we ate dinner, I noticed that she loaded her plate with dressing-less salad, and a small piece of fish. Almost without thinking, I ate fish, coated my salad with dressing, and had some green beans and mashed potatoes, too. I felt absolutely zero emotion about what other people, including J, ate. I was focused on myself, making sure I ate healthfully for me. After the meal, as we walked down to the beach and looked at the bonfires burning, I wondered if some of my depression comes from not giving myself credit for things like coating my salad with dressing and having mashed potatoes. J sees her progress and relishes in that; I see holes left to fill and I dwell on that.
After the barbecue, my husband said to me, "You and J are so alike. Same sense of humor. Same intellect. But it's like she's the happy-go-lucky version of you." It's true. She appreciates the strides she's taken. She pats herself on the back. She smiles and dances and laughs and loves with all her heart. I spend way too much time thinking things like, "Well, you still have X and Y to accomplish. You're hopeless." It's a difference in perception. And, if I'd stop perceiving my recovery as being, well, holey, maybe I would smile and dance and laugh and love with all my heart.
The truth is that my life is complete as it is, in this very moment. Is this IT? Yes, this is it, and "it" is pretty good. I've spent so much time chastising myself for not being totally free with food, but, hell, I've come pretty damn far. I even said, out loud, to my husband the other day, "I'm ok with how I eat now." I felt a little rush go through me when I said it. It felt strange, to accept myself, instead of saying, "But I still have trouble with desserts, and I still feel anxious at gatherings involving food, and I still think about calories way more than is 'normal.'" Blah blah blah. I'm tired of all that.
Here's what it is: I'm tired of seeing myself as an unfinished project. I'm tired of seeing my life as an unfinished project. It makes me critical of everything to see my life that way. It makes me anxious for a "next step." I start analyzing and obsessing about filling holes that wouldn't exist if I was just appreciative of the here and now.
There are no holes. Really. My mom would blame television for my sense that my reality needs "fixing" or "enhancing." She'd say something like, "You watched too many TV shows where everything is perfect and there is a progressive script and storyline." Maybe. I don't know. But I can see now how self-sabotaging it is to never be happy with the present. If there's always "something else," I'm destined for discontent. And, hey, I'd really like to be content.
***
Today's gratitude:
1. Long weekend. I love these. It feels like I haven't worked for a week.
2. Farmer's Market with Lauren on Saturday. We had such a good time! Here's my produce booty:
And, no, my husband doesn't eat fruits and veggies. This is all for meeeeeee. And, I don't waste food...so, yeah.
3. A mug of green tea.
4. Summertime! I can't believe it's here already. Where does time go? The next few months should be fun: A couple weddings (including my sister's), maybe a weekend trip to Las Vegas and/or San Diego.
5. DVR. I'm really not good with technology. I still have cassette tapes. I'm not kidding. But, my husband is a big nerd. Along with digital cable, we got DVR. Our first experimentation is "Kung Fu Panda," set to record on Tuesday at 4am :)
Friday, May 22, 2009
Catching up
$800: The cost of several medical tests to figure out why I feel nauseated, fatigued, and generally sick to my stomach. (Yes, I work for a health insurance company, but my health insurance really sucks. Go figure.)
$0: The cost of a tear-filled phone call to my mom after getting the results back and being told there's nothing wrong with me...physically.
$100: The cost of a session with my therapist, scheduled at the suggestion of my mom during the $0 phone call.
Understanding the power of anxiety: Priceless.
I don't know how the anxiety became such a monster, this Frankenstein of mine, dictating my existence. But it did. Given the whole anorexia thing, one would think the "3,000 calorie/day for 30 days challenge" had something to do with it, but I don't think that's it. I think my reasons for starting the challenge are what's "it."
Ever since I got back from my honeymoon, I've had this nagging feeling that I rushed into getting married. I started to get sort of down, wondering if I was cut out for long-term commitment. I'm so erratic. I'm emotional. I'm moody. I started to look at my life and think, "Is this it?" I guess that's pretty common for newlyweds, but nobody really talks about it. I wanted to follow the script, play my role as the happy wife, but I was feeling so outside of myself. I guess that explains the nausea. I can only compare it to that feeling you get before giving a speech to hundreds of people. Yes, that's it -- a pressure to perform. I started to wonder what I want. We talk about buying a home, we've looked at properties, but we aren't sold on the idea, and I'm not even sure that's what I want. We talk about having kids (at a much later date, mind you), and go in circles with our thoughts. Every night, eating dinner, watching a DVD, it felt monotonous. And, I don't know, I freaked out. I assumed it was all about me. I have a nice script for myself when it comes to these things: "Kim, you're really messed up, you're so weird, you won't ever be happy, you're such a burden." I'm constantly thinking I need to improve myself. I'm constantly berating myself for the remnants of my eating disorder. I figured, "Ok, well, one thing I can focus on is my eating." Hence, The Challenge.
But, along came the stomach pains, like my body's way of saying, "Whoa whoa whoa, hold up. Normally you would restrict away your feelings. But, if you're going to eat more, we've got to do something about that. Cue nausea." When I got the test results back, I felt lost. My mom asked, cautiously, "Well, is everything else okay?" I blurted out, "I don't know if I should have gotten married." It just came out. Just like that. Along with some tears. My therapist had an opening the next day. In her soothing way, she reminded me that it's not just me, that it's ok to feel unhappy and to say to my husband, "I'm unhappy with our marriage right now" (instead of saying "I'm unhappy," which just makes my "issues" the scapegoat, a convenient scapegoat for both of us; after all, I'm used to blaming myself for everything). I still feel doubtful, like it's wrong to feel the way I do. She said she'd help, she'd mediate. We have a session -- the two of us with her -- on Tuesday.
There is only one word for this morning: Bizarre. My husband woke up and told me he couldn't find his wedding ring. We looked everywhere. It's just...gone. What the hell? I'm trying not to overthink it, create meaning from it. It's just a missing ring. He says he feels naked without it... When he left for work, I continued looking for it and I found...the scale. Several months ago, I'd told him to get rid of it. I thought he'd throw it away. He hid it. But, not that well. I started laughing. Then I stepped on it. I don't know why. I was curious, I guess. After all, despite the stomach problems, I did pretty well with The Challenge. And, it turns out that today is the last day of it (it's already been 30 days!). How weird. The result? I gained almost 10 lbs. Not surprisingly, I'm ambivalent, but I'll take that over downright hysterical. I didn't really expect that. I don't look that different. My clothes still fit the same. The world didn't end.
So, what now? As my therapist said, all I can really do is try to listen to myself. Throw the scripts away, and just listen. I don't plan on continuing any sort of food challenge. I think I can trust myself more than I thought. I have to be diligent about what I eat because I need a lot, but I don't need to be a dictator. My intuition is good, if I'd just listen. I'm sure my intuition will guide me with my marriage, too.
***
Catch-up gratitude:
1. New TV. We got a huge, flatscreen television that makes me feel like our living room is a movie theater. Sometimes I wish I could be bohemian and live without television, but, whatever, I like it.
2. Upgraded cable. Yes, we now get channels beyond just local news. Like I said, this feels like a silly indulgence, but I don't care. I like it.
3. I don't have celiac disease, or any other disease.
4. I get to go pick out a new cell phone today. I'm phrasing it this way instead of saying, "My stupid phone died and I need to drag my ass to Verizon."
5. I'm thinking of signing up for a fun class (maybe dance of some kind, though I'm a terrible dancer). My therapist agrees that I need to get out more. Working from home is very isolating and I don't have many good friends near me.
6. Peace with my sister. The peace I'm referring to is inside my own head. It's been unexpectedly hard for me as her wedding approaches. I feel like a failure in life compared to her. But, we're different people. I'm accepting and appreciating that. I know my mindset and experiences have given me a lot of wisdom.
7. My literary agent says my book is still being considered by Holt publishing company. After next week, she's going to send it to a couple more places because Holt has been "considering" for a few months now.
8. I've got a fat cat in my lap right now.
9. Farmer's Market tomorrow with a bloggie friend :)
10. "Trueblood" DVD to come from Netflix today. Has anyone seen this show? I have a weird vampire interest. And, for the record, it started long before "Twilight" (think "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" -- the movie).
$0: The cost of a tear-filled phone call to my mom after getting the results back and being told there's nothing wrong with me...physically.
$100: The cost of a session with my therapist, scheduled at the suggestion of my mom during the $0 phone call.
Understanding the power of anxiety: Priceless.
I don't know how the anxiety became such a monster, this Frankenstein of mine, dictating my existence. But it did. Given the whole anorexia thing, one would think the "3,000 calorie/day for 30 days challenge" had something to do with it, but I don't think that's it. I think my reasons for starting the challenge are what's "it."
Ever since I got back from my honeymoon, I've had this nagging feeling that I rushed into getting married. I started to get sort of down, wondering if I was cut out for long-term commitment. I'm so erratic. I'm emotional. I'm moody. I started to look at my life and think, "Is this it?" I guess that's pretty common for newlyweds, but nobody really talks about it. I wanted to follow the script, play my role as the happy wife, but I was feeling so outside of myself. I guess that explains the nausea. I can only compare it to that feeling you get before giving a speech to hundreds of people. Yes, that's it -- a pressure to perform. I started to wonder what I want. We talk about buying a home, we've looked at properties, but we aren't sold on the idea, and I'm not even sure that's what I want. We talk about having kids (at a much later date, mind you), and go in circles with our thoughts. Every night, eating dinner, watching a DVD, it felt monotonous. And, I don't know, I freaked out. I assumed it was all about me. I have a nice script for myself when it comes to these things: "Kim, you're really messed up, you're so weird, you won't ever be happy, you're such a burden." I'm constantly thinking I need to improve myself. I'm constantly berating myself for the remnants of my eating disorder. I figured, "Ok, well, one thing I can focus on is my eating." Hence, The Challenge.
But, along came the stomach pains, like my body's way of saying, "Whoa whoa whoa, hold up. Normally you would restrict away your feelings. But, if you're going to eat more, we've got to do something about that. Cue nausea." When I got the test results back, I felt lost. My mom asked, cautiously, "Well, is everything else okay?" I blurted out, "I don't know if I should have gotten married." It just came out. Just like that. Along with some tears. My therapist had an opening the next day. In her soothing way, she reminded me that it's not just me, that it's ok to feel unhappy and to say to my husband, "I'm unhappy with our marriage right now" (instead of saying "I'm unhappy," which just makes my "issues" the scapegoat, a convenient scapegoat for both of us; after all, I'm used to blaming myself for everything). I still feel doubtful, like it's wrong to feel the way I do. She said she'd help, she'd mediate. We have a session -- the two of us with her -- on Tuesday.
There is only one word for this morning: Bizarre. My husband woke up and told me he couldn't find his wedding ring. We looked everywhere. It's just...gone. What the hell? I'm trying not to overthink it, create meaning from it. It's just a missing ring. He says he feels naked without it... When he left for work, I continued looking for it and I found...the scale. Several months ago, I'd told him to get rid of it. I thought he'd throw it away. He hid it. But, not that well. I started laughing. Then I stepped on it. I don't know why. I was curious, I guess. After all, despite the stomach problems, I did pretty well with The Challenge. And, it turns out that today is the last day of it (it's already been 30 days!). How weird. The result? I gained almost 10 lbs. Not surprisingly, I'm ambivalent, but I'll take that over downright hysterical. I didn't really expect that. I don't look that different. My clothes still fit the same. The world didn't end.
So, what now? As my therapist said, all I can really do is try to listen to myself. Throw the scripts away, and just listen. I don't plan on continuing any sort of food challenge. I think I can trust myself more than I thought. I have to be diligent about what I eat because I need a lot, but I don't need to be a dictator. My intuition is good, if I'd just listen. I'm sure my intuition will guide me with my marriage, too.
***
Catch-up gratitude:
1. New TV. We got a huge, flatscreen television that makes me feel like our living room is a movie theater. Sometimes I wish I could be bohemian and live without television, but, whatever, I like it.
2. Upgraded cable. Yes, we now get channels beyond just local news. Like I said, this feels like a silly indulgence, but I don't care. I like it.
3. I don't have celiac disease, or any other disease.
4. I get to go pick out a new cell phone today. I'm phrasing it this way instead of saying, "My stupid phone died and I need to drag my ass to Verizon."
5. I'm thinking of signing up for a fun class (maybe dance of some kind, though I'm a terrible dancer). My therapist agrees that I need to get out more. Working from home is very isolating and I don't have many good friends near me.
6. Peace with my sister. The peace I'm referring to is inside my own head. It's been unexpectedly hard for me as her wedding approaches. I feel like a failure in life compared to her. But, we're different people. I'm accepting and appreciating that. I know my mindset and experiences have given me a lot of wisdom.
7. My literary agent says my book is still being considered by Holt publishing company. After next week, she's going to send it to a couple more places because Holt has been "considering" for a few months now.
8. I've got a fat cat in my lap right now.
9. Farmer's Market tomorrow with a bloggie friend :)
10. "Trueblood" DVD to come from Netflix today. Has anyone seen this show? I have a weird vampire interest. And, for the record, it started long before "Twilight" (think "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" -- the movie).
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Taking a break
I'm going to take a break from blogging for a while. I realize it's odd to post a blog about taking a break from blogging, but I didn't want you guys to think I just disappeared.
Mostly, I'm frustrated with my stomach issues as of late. I keep thinking they ARE in my head. I haven't heard from the doctor yet. I don't appreciate this irony of having no appetite, feeling nauseated, and being so exhausted that I almost fall asleep sitting up at least once a day. It's too reminiscent of that something I know too well and, like I said, I don't appreciate the irony.
What if it is in my head? I've never developed stomach issues before, but it is rather coincidental that they popped up in the midst of eating 3,000 calories a day. Does anorexia really have that much of a grasp on me? Still?? I really didn't think so.
In general, I'm just annoyed at eating disorders and why they prey on people like you and me -- people who are funny and smart and giving. There is comfort in blogging in that I realize I'm not alone. But, sometimes, that's depressing too. Sometimes, I wish I were alone in this. I wouldn't want my worst enemy to go through this self-doubt, this depression, this physical struggle. It feels like an ongoing fight. And, while I know there comes a point when there are more winning than losing moments, it's still a fight.
I'm sure I'll post again in the somewhat-near future. I'll still be reading your blogs :)
***
Today's gratitude:
1. Got a new freelance job to keep me busy.
2. "Wendy and Lucy" -- great movie.
3. My friend, H., who gets me like nobody else. It's eerie.
4. I trimmed the trees in my yard yesterday. It's man's work, really.
5. Thai noodles with peanut sauce -- homemade. Combining peanut butter and noodles never crossed my mind before. Delicious.
Mostly, I'm frustrated with my stomach issues as of late. I keep thinking they ARE in my head. I haven't heard from the doctor yet. I don't appreciate this irony of having no appetite, feeling nauseated, and being so exhausted that I almost fall asleep sitting up at least once a day. It's too reminiscent of that something I know too well and, like I said, I don't appreciate the irony.
What if it is in my head? I've never developed stomach issues before, but it is rather coincidental that they popped up in the midst of eating 3,000 calories a day. Does anorexia really have that much of a grasp on me? Still?? I really didn't think so.
In general, I'm just annoyed at eating disorders and why they prey on people like you and me -- people who are funny and smart and giving. There is comfort in blogging in that I realize I'm not alone. But, sometimes, that's depressing too. Sometimes, I wish I were alone in this. I wouldn't want my worst enemy to go through this self-doubt, this depression, this physical struggle. It feels like an ongoing fight. And, while I know there comes a point when there are more winning than losing moments, it's still a fight.
I'm sure I'll post again in the somewhat-near future. I'll still be reading your blogs :)
***
Today's gratitude:
1. Got a new freelance job to keep me busy.
2. "Wendy and Lucy" -- great movie.
3. My friend, H., who gets me like nobody else. It's eerie.
4. I trimmed the trees in my yard yesterday. It's man's work, really.
5. Thai noodles with peanut sauce -- homemade. Combining peanut butter and noodles never crossed my mind before. Delicious.
Monday, May 11, 2009
"It's not in your head."
That's what the doctor said, and I believe him, because he's a doctor, with a degree, and a professional-looking clipboard.
I had scheduled an appointment for my stomach problems for this Thursday, but I was so nauseated this morning after breakfast that I called to see if I could come in today. They had an opening at their other office, so I told my boss (without any guilt) that I would be gone for a few hours. And I went.
I am very skeptical of doctors. I don't trust them, mostly because of my experiences while in the depths of my eating disorder, hearing things like, "Well, I can still squeeze some fat on your tummy, so you're okay." I went to the appointment today thinking this guy would have nothing constructive to say, no help to offer me.
I was wrong.
He was great! I am so relieved. He said he suspects I have celiac disease. Um, wow. First of all, this would be very ironic because one of my current freelance projects is for a celiac disease diagnostic kit. Weird. Second of all, if I do have it, this would explain a lot of my discomfort. When he went through the symptoms -- everything from extreme fatigue to nausea to difficulty sleeping -- I found myself thinking, "Check, check, and check." Celiac disease can occur at any time. Almost 1 in 100 people have it, but only 3% or so are actually diagnosed. It could have been latent for years. Hell, could it be related to my anorexia? I don't know. I don't even know if I have it yet. I would be sad if I did because I love bread, but I would be relieved to know what the hell is going on with me. They took several vials of blood (fun!). They're testing for other things too. I'm just glad I went. On my way out, as if he was reading my mind, he said, "We'll figure it out. It's not in your head."
Phew.
***
Today's gratitude:
1. Taking care of myself.
2. No anxiety. For the first time in a long time, I am not stressed about anything. I think I'm too exhausted to be stressed.
3. Trader Joe's gift card in the mail as a late wedding gift. Woo!
4. New "Frosty, Heidi, and Frank" podcast to upload.
5. Air conditioning.
I had scheduled an appointment for my stomach problems for this Thursday, but I was so nauseated this morning after breakfast that I called to see if I could come in today. They had an opening at their other office, so I told my boss (without any guilt) that I would be gone for a few hours. And I went.
I am very skeptical of doctors. I don't trust them, mostly because of my experiences while in the depths of my eating disorder, hearing things like, "Well, I can still squeeze some fat on your tummy, so you're okay." I went to the appointment today thinking this guy would have nothing constructive to say, no help to offer me.
I was wrong.
He was great! I am so relieved. He said he suspects I have celiac disease. Um, wow. First of all, this would be very ironic because one of my current freelance projects is for a celiac disease diagnostic kit. Weird. Second of all, if I do have it, this would explain a lot of my discomfort. When he went through the symptoms -- everything from extreme fatigue to nausea to difficulty sleeping -- I found myself thinking, "Check, check, and check." Celiac disease can occur at any time. Almost 1 in 100 people have it, but only 3% or so are actually diagnosed. It could have been latent for years. Hell, could it be related to my anorexia? I don't know. I don't even know if I have it yet. I would be sad if I did because I love bread, but I would be relieved to know what the hell is going on with me. They took several vials of blood (fun!). They're testing for other things too. I'm just glad I went. On my way out, as if he was reading my mind, he said, "We'll figure it out. It's not in your head."
Phew.
***
Today's gratitude:
1. Taking care of myself.
2. No anxiety. For the first time in a long time, I am not stressed about anything. I think I'm too exhausted to be stressed.
3. Trader Joe's gift card in the mail as a late wedding gift. Woo!
4. New "Frosty, Heidi, and Frank" podcast to upload.
5. Air conditioning.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Sibling rivalry
Let me introduce you to my sister. That's her on the left, beaming at her graduation from nursing school yesterday. That's me on the right. I'm smiling, but I'm not really happy. Am I faking it well? Anyway, I'll get back to that...
My sister is a little less than two years younger than me. When we were kids, we had a typical sibling rivalry. I was the teacher's pet, a bookworm/nerd whose straight A's pressured her with an unasked-for-legacy (i.e., teachers saying, "Oh, you're Kim's sister?!). My sister didn't do great in school. But, she was the popular one. She was the top of the pyramid in cheerleading. She kissed a boy long before me. She went to raves. She taught me how to shave my legs. When I developed anorexia, I think it relieved her in a weird way, though she may never say that. Anorexia was a big enough "fuck up" to change our dynamic, to negate the rivalry.
But, yesterday, I felt a new sibling rivalry, but it's one-sided; it's just me. I'm jealous that she seems to have achieved what seems so unobtainable to me: genuine happiness. My sister knows herself. She loves herself. She has dreams and aspirations. She's traveled the world, from Egypt to Nicaragua. She's an amazing photographer. She just bought a house with her fiance, a guy who is absolutely perfect for her. She already has a nursing job offer. She definitely wants kids. She has a plan. She can't wait. I don't often say, "I can't wait" about anything. It's not that I want her life: I want her self-assuredness, her excitement.
My sister is one of those people who always seems to wake up on the right side of the bed. Life doesn't worry her. I've rarely seen her stress out about anything. The concept of anxiety is totally foreign to her. She finds it baffling that I struggle with insomnia. This girl listens to her body. She can sleep anywhere if she's tired. Anorexia baffles her more. She has zero issues with food. I've seen her crack open a can of Coke (regular, not diet, ever), drink three-quarters of it, then throw away the rest because she's not thirsty for it anymore. The day after my reception, she ate my wedding cake for breakfast. She is the most intuitive eater I've ever seen. She has odd preferences, but they're just preferences. For example, she likes to use about half a tub of cream cheese on a single bagel.
My sister is full of energy. Things thrill her. Just playing with our parents' dog thrills her. A Dodger game on TV thrills her. She laughs ridiculously easily. In fact, her joke award from her nursing peers was, "Most likely to need intubation from laughing so hard" (or something like that).
It's sad for me to be around her. The contrast between us is so obvious. She makes it entirely impossible for me to ignore or deny my own discontent. Around her, I'm all too aware of how lost I feel sometimes. I love her, dearly, but I feel that childish tantrum coming on, the one that goes, "Why can't I have ____? She gets it!" Except, in adult life, the blank isn't a toy or a game; it's inner peace.
I've been thinking so much (too much?) about where I stand lately. I'm sad. I see how I've functioned like this. I see how years pass functioning like this. I feel lonely when I realize the disparity between how "together" I seem versus how I feel inside. What trips me up about recovery is that it is AND isn't about the food. I find myself thinking, "What's the point of eating 3,000 calories per day if I have all this sadness?" I haven't met my challenge goal the last two days. My stomach has been really bothering me, yes, but the stomach issues of a recovering anorexic woman are "just in her head," an excuse, not to be taken seriously -- or that's the impression I get. I feel like a failure. But, mostly, I just feel sad.
Sorry for the Debbie Downer post. Just one of those days.
***
Today's gratitude:
Today's gratitude:
1. Cloudy morning. Seems appropriate.
2. Hot bowl of oatmeal in front of me.
3. I slept really well last night. Go figure!
4. "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" is on my coffee table. I'm looking forward to seeing how they made the short story a movie.
5. Errands (aka accomplishments) to enjoy this weekend: groceries, bank, etc.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Flying under the radar
I just read an entry on Tiptoe's blog about a NY Times article called "High-functioning, but still alcoholics." Tiptoe makes the very astute connection between high-functioning alcoholics and high-functioning eating disordered persons. I relate to this on many levels. My husband was a very high-functioning alcoholic: made good money, worked hard. It was so hard for me to recognize that he had a problem because he was never violent or sloppy. He didn't slur or spend any time with his head over the toilet. He didn't call in sick to work. He was never hungover. He didn't let his responsibilities fall by the wayside. I just didn't see it. Thankfully, we started to realize there was a problem. He's been completely sober for a good while now.
It's rather ironic that we haven't really realized that I have a problem though. I mean, yes, I know I'm anorexic. He knows too (though I think he considers it a rather mild problem. One time, when we didn't have health insurance, I heard him on the phone with an insurance agent, talking about preexisting conditions, and he said, "Well, she did have an eating disorder. But it's just an eating disorder." JUST?). I know I'm not at my ideal body weight. But, man, it's so easy to rationalize that things are "fine." I hate that word -- fine. I eat an amount of food that is greater than my husband's (and most people around me, to be honest). Yes, I have weird quirks and I'm picky about when/where/what I eat...but I eat. I don't fit the stereotype of subsisting off of carrots and lettuce. In fact, I despise vegetables. In college, the very worst of my eating disorder years, I got straight A's. I graduated at the top of my class. I also worked. I didn't miss a day. In the working world, I've held great jobs. I've impressed my bosses. I've maintained commitments, even when I was so sick that I got dizzy when I stood up. Even when I entered a treatment center in 2001, it was the summer after I graduated college, after I had already secured late entry to the grad school I was attending.
This is what scares me. I can live like this. I've integrated eating disordered behaviors and thoughts into a relatively "normal" existence. The treatment center I attended considers me a success story. This makes me shudder. I know, deep down, that the way I live is not "recovered." I know I could be healthier, physically and mentally. But, only I seem to know this. I think my family knows this, but they have kind of accepted that they can't do anything besides love me as I am. My husband knows I have "issues," but I don't think he realizes how much they consume me at times. He just thinks I eat "too healthy." He thinks I should eat more cheeseburgers.
I've told myself for years that I'm okay. I'm not one step away from a feeding tube. I'm fine. FINE. But, I know that's a lie. I know I'm just flying under the radar. I've told certain friends about my eating disorder, but they kind of forget about it. Other people have no clue. They see me eat, so they think, "Wow, she's just naturally thin. How lucky!" Part of the problem is the assumption that people with anorexia don't eat. We do. We just do it very cautiously. We calculate. We obsess.
Anyway, the bigger issue is that I have to be able to break through this illusion. I can't think about how I appear to the outside world -- successful, competent, "together." That's not the point. The point is that I know I have things to work on, and improvements to make. Still, it's awfully easy to forget that. It's awfully easy to put off improvements because nothing in my life seems to be falling apart. It's awfully easy to make excuses. And years pass. I'll be 30 this year. Sometimes I can't BELIEVE how much time I've dedicated to this eating disorder -- the intensity of the dedication has waxed and waned, but it's still there...
On a sidenote: The nausea and stomach problems I had last week keeps coming back, in random waves. I finally made an appointment with a gastroenterologist. The soonest they can see me is next week. I know something is wrong. My husband, being the paranoid hypochondriac that he can sometimes be, has suggested everything from a tapeworm to stomach cancer. I find the tapeworm thing especially amusing. He said, "Well, maybe that's why you eat as much as you do and don't gain weight." Riiight.
***
Today's gratitude:
1. Just had a company meeting and I guess they're profiting and doing well. I live in fear because of this economic downturn, but I guess my job is stable for now.
2. I got a new catalog from the city, with some activities and classes. I didn't sign up for anything yet, but I earmarked pages. That's a step, right?
3. Painted nails -- fingers and toes :)
4. The third book in the "Twilight" series. I know, I know... I'm not proud of myself.
5. Grocery coupons in the mail. I get more excited than most grandmothers about grocery coupons. It's silly.
It's rather ironic that we haven't really realized that I have a problem though. I mean, yes, I know I'm anorexic. He knows too (though I think he considers it a rather mild problem. One time, when we didn't have health insurance, I heard him on the phone with an insurance agent, talking about preexisting conditions, and he said, "Well, she did have an eating disorder. But it's just an eating disorder." JUST?). I know I'm not at my ideal body weight. But, man, it's so easy to rationalize that things are "fine." I hate that word -- fine. I eat an amount of food that is greater than my husband's (and most people around me, to be honest). Yes, I have weird quirks and I'm picky about when/where/what I eat...but I eat. I don't fit the stereotype of subsisting off of carrots and lettuce. In fact, I despise vegetables. In college, the very worst of my eating disorder years, I got straight A's. I graduated at the top of my class. I also worked. I didn't miss a day. In the working world, I've held great jobs. I've impressed my bosses. I've maintained commitments, even when I was so sick that I got dizzy when I stood up. Even when I entered a treatment center in 2001, it was the summer after I graduated college, after I had already secured late entry to the grad school I was attending.
This is what scares me. I can live like this. I've integrated eating disordered behaviors and thoughts into a relatively "normal" existence. The treatment center I attended considers me a success story. This makes me shudder. I know, deep down, that the way I live is not "recovered." I know I could be healthier, physically and mentally. But, only I seem to know this. I think my family knows this, but they have kind of accepted that they can't do anything besides love me as I am. My husband knows I have "issues," but I don't think he realizes how much they consume me at times. He just thinks I eat "too healthy." He thinks I should eat more cheeseburgers.
I've told myself for years that I'm okay. I'm not one step away from a feeding tube. I'm fine. FINE. But, I know that's a lie. I know I'm just flying under the radar. I've told certain friends about my eating disorder, but they kind of forget about it. Other people have no clue. They see me eat, so they think, "Wow, she's just naturally thin. How lucky!" Part of the problem is the assumption that people with anorexia don't eat. We do. We just do it very cautiously. We calculate. We obsess.
Anyway, the bigger issue is that I have to be able to break through this illusion. I can't think about how I appear to the outside world -- successful, competent, "together." That's not the point. The point is that I know I have things to work on, and improvements to make. Still, it's awfully easy to forget that. It's awfully easy to put off improvements because nothing in my life seems to be falling apart. It's awfully easy to make excuses. And years pass. I'll be 30 this year. Sometimes I can't BELIEVE how much time I've dedicated to this eating disorder -- the intensity of the dedication has waxed and waned, but it's still there...
On a sidenote: The nausea and stomach problems I had last week keeps coming back, in random waves. I finally made an appointment with a gastroenterologist. The soonest they can see me is next week. I know something is wrong. My husband, being the paranoid hypochondriac that he can sometimes be, has suggested everything from a tapeworm to stomach cancer. I find the tapeworm thing especially amusing. He said, "Well, maybe that's why you eat as much as you do and don't gain weight." Riiight.
***
Today's gratitude:
1. Just had a company meeting and I guess they're profiting and doing well. I live in fear because of this economic downturn, but I guess my job is stable for now.
2. I got a new catalog from the city, with some activities and classes. I didn't sign up for anything yet, but I earmarked pages. That's a step, right?
3. Painted nails -- fingers and toes :)
4. The third book in the "Twilight" series. I know, I know... I'm not proud of myself.
5. Grocery coupons in the mail. I get more excited than most grandmothers about grocery coupons. It's silly.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Values
I got this idea from Katie's wonderful blog. She did this exercise on values in group therapy a while back, and I thought it was especially relevant, considering all the thinking I've been doing about who I am outside of my eating disorder. What matters to me? What commitments do I want to make? Those are important questions that often stump me.
The exercise Katie did involved writing down what sort of person you would like to be in different areas of your life.
Here are my answers:
Marriage/couple: Loyal, honest, dependable, stable, respectful, adventurous, patient, supportive, loving, curious, easily humored, open, relaxed, excitable/excited. In one phrase: Supporting each other through everything, helping each other's dreams come true.
Parenting: Unconditionally loving and affectionate, encouraging, motivating, supportive, positive, energetic. In one phrase: Giving my best self and, in return, being able to rediscover the world through a child's eyes.
Other family relations (daughter, sister, cousin etc): Supportive, consistent, open, respectful. In one phrase: Being there (mentally and physically) for important events, bonding over the past, and staying connected in the present.
Friendship/social relations: Fun, giving, generous, loving, consistent. In one phrase: Finding connection in mindful sharing, or mindless fun :)
Career/employment: Dependable, stable, reliable, high-achieving, organized, conscientious, respectful. In one phrase: Being self-directed, goal-oriented, and confident in the work I do.
Education and personal growth: Curious, thinking-outside-the-box, intellectually indulgent, excited. In one phrase: Feeling excited about the world, and all the possibilites to expand my mind.
Recreation/leisure: Creative, adventurous, interesting. In one phrase: Going in search of excitement and new interests.
Spirituality: Inquisitive, questioning, open-minded. In one phrase: Opening up to something bigger than myself.
Health/physical wellbeing: Energetic, strong, healthy. In one phrase: Empowered.
The last and most important part of this exercise was to rate each area in two ways: how important it is in your life and how well you are living this value at the moment. Of course, it's obvious to me that I have a lot of work to do when it comes to fully living these values. There are certain thought patterns that are still ingrained. I still give a lot of attention to anorexia, even while in recovery. But, it's clear to me that what I truly value does not align with anorexia at all.
For me, this is how anorexia affects my values:
Marriage/couple: Well, I know one of my husband's dreams is for me to be healthy and happy...and anorexia is in direct opposition to that. Anorexia is very all-consuming. It makes me quick to anger. I'm not always as patient with him as I want to be. Sometimes, I'm so fixated on my own stuff that I can't see how it hurts us. It could be something as simple as bypassing an opportunity to go out to eat because I'm having a "bad day."
Parenting: I can't even conceive of conceiving right now. I don't even know if I'd be able to, physically (and that saddens me). I don't know what damage I've done, and how reversible it is. And, if I could get pregnant, what kind of parent would I be? I feel far too self-absorbed right now.
Other family relations: I'm just not as consistent as I'd like to be. I'm moody and mercurial. One day, I'm the loving daughter/sister, totally present and there. Other days, I'm in fetal position, in my own little hole.
Friendship/social relations: Again, I'm not as consistent as I'd like to be. I get so caught up in my anxiety sometimes that I have trouble having fun with other people, or even putting myself out there for the possibility of having fun.
Career/employment: I'm not that confident. I feel like I'm always about to get fired. And I exhaust myself with my perfectionism. I'm constantly trying to read minds and find out if people think I'm doing a good job. I guess I'm very insecure.
Education and personal growth: I've let myself get bored. Maybe it's an energy thing, but I just don't pursue the world like I used to. I live RIGHT NEXT to a community college. The old me would be taking classes.
Recreation/leisure: I let my anxiety get the best of me with this one too. And, well, food is often involved with recreation/leisure, so I limit myself by having food fears. Sometimes, I daydream about fun things I'd like to do, but I talk myself out of them and stay home. Again, maybe it's an energy thing.
Spirituality: Anorexia does not want me to see something bigger than myself. If I saw that, if I had some faith, I would be even more equipped to recover.
Health/physical wellbeing: Let's see...where to start? My bones are probably far more brittle than I want to know. I get weird pains in my feet and back, pains that I think should be reserved for 90-year-olds. I'm not that energetic. I swear my anxiety is linked to keeping my body at a weight it doesn't really want to be. I don't sleep well. Who knows what's up with my hormones?
All of that doesn't seem to match what I wrote above about how I want to be. So, yeah, there's a reason to recover! How nice to be reminded of that!
By the way, Katie is also doing a jewelry giveaway! All you have to do is leave a comment on her blog with your two favorite colors and what motivates you in recovery :) Just had to publicize that!
***
Today's gratitude:
1. My sister graduates from nursing school on Friday, and I edited her last paper for her yesterday. Oh, the relief!
2. I wrote a funny story about my former boss yesterday. I don't know where the idea come from. I love those moments. They bring me back to why I like to write.
3. I didn't start crying when my mailbox key broke. I don't like disruptions to my day. A little thing like a broken mailbox key can feel like utter chaos to me. But, I made the trip to the post office and took care of it. I'll get a new lock and key today. Done.
4. I finally got around to updating all my accounts, with my husband and I on them together. That feels like a very big step for me.
5. The Challenge continues... It's going well, but I feel like I may need the support of a nutritionist again. I feel kind of lost without any monitoring. Have I even gained any weight? I really don't know. Do I need to eat more? I haven't seen my therapist in a while either... Maybe I should re-start that, although I always feel like I go in circles and don't "accomplish" anything. Thoughts?
The exercise Katie did involved writing down what sort of person you would like to be in different areas of your life.
Here are my answers:
Marriage/couple: Loyal, honest, dependable, stable, respectful, adventurous, patient, supportive, loving, curious, easily humored, open, relaxed, excitable/excited. In one phrase: Supporting each other through everything, helping each other's dreams come true.
Parenting: Unconditionally loving and affectionate, encouraging, motivating, supportive, positive, energetic. In one phrase: Giving my best self and, in return, being able to rediscover the world through a child's eyes.
Other family relations (daughter, sister, cousin etc): Supportive, consistent, open, respectful. In one phrase: Being there (mentally and physically) for important events, bonding over the past, and staying connected in the present.
Friendship/social relations: Fun, giving, generous, loving, consistent. In one phrase: Finding connection in mindful sharing, or mindless fun :)
Career/employment: Dependable, stable, reliable, high-achieving, organized, conscientious, respectful. In one phrase: Being self-directed, goal-oriented, and confident in the work I do.
Education and personal growth: Curious, thinking-outside-the-box, intellectually indulgent, excited. In one phrase: Feeling excited about the world, and all the possibilites to expand my mind.
Recreation/leisure: Creative, adventurous, interesting. In one phrase: Going in search of excitement and new interests.
Spirituality: Inquisitive, questioning, open-minded. In one phrase: Opening up to something bigger than myself.
Health/physical wellbeing: Energetic, strong, healthy. In one phrase: Empowered.
The last and most important part of this exercise was to rate each area in two ways: how important it is in your life and how well you are living this value at the moment. Of course, it's obvious to me that I have a lot of work to do when it comes to fully living these values. There are certain thought patterns that are still ingrained. I still give a lot of attention to anorexia, even while in recovery. But, it's clear to me that what I truly value does not align with anorexia at all.
For me, this is how anorexia affects my values:
Marriage/couple: Well, I know one of my husband's dreams is for me to be healthy and happy...and anorexia is in direct opposition to that. Anorexia is very all-consuming. It makes me quick to anger. I'm not always as patient with him as I want to be. Sometimes, I'm so fixated on my own stuff that I can't see how it hurts us. It could be something as simple as bypassing an opportunity to go out to eat because I'm having a "bad day."
Parenting: I can't even conceive of conceiving right now. I don't even know if I'd be able to, physically (and that saddens me). I don't know what damage I've done, and how reversible it is. And, if I could get pregnant, what kind of parent would I be? I feel far too self-absorbed right now.
Other family relations: I'm just not as consistent as I'd like to be. I'm moody and mercurial. One day, I'm the loving daughter/sister, totally present and there. Other days, I'm in fetal position, in my own little hole.
Friendship/social relations: Again, I'm not as consistent as I'd like to be. I get so caught up in my anxiety sometimes that I have trouble having fun with other people, or even putting myself out there for the possibility of having fun.
Career/employment: I'm not that confident. I feel like I'm always about to get fired. And I exhaust myself with my perfectionism. I'm constantly trying to read minds and find out if people think I'm doing a good job. I guess I'm very insecure.
Education and personal growth: I've let myself get bored. Maybe it's an energy thing, but I just don't pursue the world like I used to. I live RIGHT NEXT to a community college. The old me would be taking classes.
Recreation/leisure: I let my anxiety get the best of me with this one too. And, well, food is often involved with recreation/leisure, so I limit myself by having food fears. Sometimes, I daydream about fun things I'd like to do, but I talk myself out of them and stay home. Again, maybe it's an energy thing.
Spirituality: Anorexia does not want me to see something bigger than myself. If I saw that, if I had some faith, I would be even more equipped to recover.
Health/physical wellbeing: Let's see...where to start? My bones are probably far more brittle than I want to know. I get weird pains in my feet and back, pains that I think should be reserved for 90-year-olds. I'm not that energetic. I swear my anxiety is linked to keeping my body at a weight it doesn't really want to be. I don't sleep well. Who knows what's up with my hormones?
All of that doesn't seem to match what I wrote above about how I want to be. So, yeah, there's a reason to recover! How nice to be reminded of that!
By the way, Katie is also doing a jewelry giveaway! All you have to do is leave a comment on her blog with your two favorite colors and what motivates you in recovery :) Just had to publicize that!
***
Today's gratitude:
1. My sister graduates from nursing school on Friday, and I edited her last paper for her yesterday. Oh, the relief!
2. I wrote a funny story about my former boss yesterday. I don't know where the idea come from. I love those moments. They bring me back to why I like to write.
3. I didn't start crying when my mailbox key broke. I don't like disruptions to my day. A little thing like a broken mailbox key can feel like utter chaos to me. But, I made the trip to the post office and took care of it. I'll get a new lock and key today. Done.
4. I finally got around to updating all my accounts, with my husband and I on them together. That feels like a very big step for me.
5. The Challenge continues... It's going well, but I feel like I may need the support of a nutritionist again. I feel kind of lost without any monitoring. Have I even gained any weight? I really don't know. Do I need to eat more? I haven't seen my therapist in a while either... Maybe I should re-start that, although I always feel like I go in circles and don't "accomplish" anything. Thoughts?
Monday, May 4, 2009
"Stop before you list."
I have a problem with lists. They start out innocently enough. I write down some things to do, things I don't want to forget. But, then my compulsivity gets the best of me and I'm putting things like "take a shower" on the list. As if I'm going to forget.
Many things in my life start out innocently and take a turn for the not-so-innocent. List-making, exercise, dieting. Give me an activity and I will turn it into an intense obligation within 2 weeks. If you don't believe me, take a look at last week's lists, in which I instruct myself to finish this book I'm reading. "Read a book" is on my to-do list? This is horrific. I mean, reading is one of my pleasures untainted and uninfluenced by my anorexia mentality (or so I thought); by making it a "to-do," I've lost the joy.
I'm very task-minded. I guess this isn't a totally bad thing, but it does get in the way of enjoyment. If I live according to a list, no wonder I have a hard time with spontaneity. Hell, my 3,000 calorie plan is according to a list (in a Word document entitled "Food Stuff"). It's like I don't trust myself to do anything with my heart; I'm convinced my head always has to be invovled. There is always something to calculate, plan, organize. I know I don't want to be this way in life, which is why this little mantra popped into my head: "Stop before you list." Reading a book does not need to go on a list. Going for a walk does not need to go on a list. Yoga does not need to go on a list. Watching a netflix movie does not need to go on a list. I can trust myself to do these things according to how I feel.
But, I wonder about recovery. I'm still confused about how to tackle this, particularly with my eating. I feel like I need structure, but I also don't think it's good to look at recovery as this "task." It doesn't really feel fulfilling to cross off snacks on a "to eat" list. But, I don't know how else to keep myself on track. Again, maybe this comes back to a lack of self-trust. My therapist is big on "letting go" and not looking at food as a burdensome obligation, part of this Recovery Master Plan. I'm with her on this, but any time I've "relaxed," not written down what I eat, not worried so much about counting, I don't gain weight. I stay exactly where I am. So...what am I supposed to do? How much structure is necessary with recovery?
***
Today's gratitude:
1. The reading at Laguna Beach Books went well! I was announced as the first reader, which was a bit of a shock to me. I thought I was fourth or fifth. My voice was a little shaky, but I calmed down halfway through. My husband was proud of me. He gave me a big kiss on the cheek (and he's very opposed to public displays of affection).
2. The Challenge continues. I'm 1/3 of the way to my 30-day goal. Like I said in the post, I'm feeling a bit unfufilled. It's just so task-y. And, to be honest, I don't really notice any changes in my body, or my mind. I know it's only been 10 days, so I'm trying to stay positive. I wonder if I need to eat even more... I wonder if I should be getting weighed...
3. Stuffed bell peppers! My husband and I agree that the stuffed peppers I made last night were the best yet. I don't know what the secret was. I tried a new kind of risotto in the stuffing, and put more cheese on top. You can never go wrong with more cheese.
4. Being happy where I am. I have a tendency to always want something to be different -- my job, my hair, my home. My husband and I were thinking about looking for a new place, but we kind of decided that we're happy as we are. We're just suckers for the quintessential American Dream. We went to look at two townhomes yesterday, and they just weren't that great (and were very expensive). I love my little side yard at our condo now. There's no need to move. We would only need to move if we wanted to have a family...and that's another can of worms.
5. Four-day work week! I'm taking Friday off for my sister's graduation from nursing school. I don't really like disruptions in routine, even if they're "fun" disruptions; but I'm genuinely looking forward to seeing her graduate and BBQ-ing after :)
Many things in my life start out innocently and take a turn for the not-so-innocent. List-making, exercise, dieting. Give me an activity and I will turn it into an intense obligation within 2 weeks. If you don't believe me, take a look at last week's lists, in which I instruct myself to finish this book I'm reading. "Read a book" is on my to-do list? This is horrific. I mean, reading is one of my pleasures untainted and uninfluenced by my anorexia mentality (or so I thought); by making it a "to-do," I've lost the joy.
I'm very task-minded. I guess this isn't a totally bad thing, but it does get in the way of enjoyment. If I live according to a list, no wonder I have a hard time with spontaneity. Hell, my 3,000 calorie plan is according to a list (in a Word document entitled "Food Stuff"). It's like I don't trust myself to do anything with my heart; I'm convinced my head always has to be invovled. There is always something to calculate, plan, organize. I know I don't want to be this way in life, which is why this little mantra popped into my head: "Stop before you list." Reading a book does not need to go on a list. Going for a walk does not need to go on a list. Yoga does not need to go on a list. Watching a netflix movie does not need to go on a list. I can trust myself to do these things according to how I feel.
But, I wonder about recovery. I'm still confused about how to tackle this, particularly with my eating. I feel like I need structure, but I also don't think it's good to look at recovery as this "task." It doesn't really feel fulfilling to cross off snacks on a "to eat" list. But, I don't know how else to keep myself on track. Again, maybe this comes back to a lack of self-trust. My therapist is big on "letting go" and not looking at food as a burdensome obligation, part of this Recovery Master Plan. I'm with her on this, but any time I've "relaxed," not written down what I eat, not worried so much about counting, I don't gain weight. I stay exactly where I am. So...what am I supposed to do? How much structure is necessary with recovery?
***
Today's gratitude:
1. The reading at Laguna Beach Books went well! I was announced as the first reader, which was a bit of a shock to me. I thought I was fourth or fifth. My voice was a little shaky, but I calmed down halfway through. My husband was proud of me. He gave me a big kiss on the cheek (and he's very opposed to public displays of affection).
2. The Challenge continues. I'm 1/3 of the way to my 30-day goal. Like I said in the post, I'm feeling a bit unfufilled. It's just so task-y. And, to be honest, I don't really notice any changes in my body, or my mind. I know it's only been 10 days, so I'm trying to stay positive. I wonder if I need to eat even more... I wonder if I should be getting weighed...
3. Stuffed bell peppers! My husband and I agree that the stuffed peppers I made last night were the best yet. I don't know what the secret was. I tried a new kind of risotto in the stuffing, and put more cheese on top. You can never go wrong with more cheese.
4. Being happy where I am. I have a tendency to always want something to be different -- my job, my hair, my home. My husband and I were thinking about looking for a new place, but we kind of decided that we're happy as we are. We're just suckers for the quintessential American Dream. We went to look at two townhomes yesterday, and they just weren't that great (and were very expensive). I love my little side yard at our condo now. There's no need to move. We would only need to move if we wanted to have a family...and that's another can of worms.
5. Four-day work week! I'm taking Friday off for my sister's graduation from nursing school. I don't really like disruptions in routine, even if they're "fun" disruptions; but I'm genuinely looking forward to seeing her graduate and BBQ-ing after :)
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Hitting the skids
I have to say that I woke up this morning feeling rather blah. I'm not enjoying this eating more thing. Not at all. I'm pretty sure I'm officially lactose intolerant. I knew I couldn't drink milk without a rebellion occurring in my stomach, but it appears that my body is none-too-pleased with copious amounts of ice cream. Somehow, cheese and yogurt seem fine. What the hell? Anyway, I've had a bit of loss of motivation. I'm still eating according to my calorie plan, but I'm not liking it. I wonder what "the point" is because I certaintly don't feel good. And, I guess that's the kicker -- with eating disorders, recovery doesn't feel good. Most diseases aren't that way.
Anyway, I tend to like to feed negativity, like it's that plant in Little Shop of Horrors ("Feed me, Seymour!") so I found myself getting down about the fact that my husband doesn't want a dog, that we don't do anything fun, that I can't latch onto what I really want and have some peace and quiet in my brain. Then, my husband woke up and the day changed, just like that.
He came shopping with me and helped me pick out a dress for my friend's wedding (yes, I found one!). We went to look at some townhomes, just for fun (and to prepare a part of our brains to save for a new home). He said he was starving (he woke up late and hadn't eaten anything) and wanted to get lunch. I said I wasn't that hungry (since I'd just had my morning snack). Then I stopped myself and said, "But I'll eat with you." I told him I was having a hard day, but that sometimes I need to be pushed. He laughed and said him pushing me to go out to eat is like pushing down a brick wall with a toothpick. In other words, I'm close to impossible when it comes to being spontaneous about food. I kind of teared up a bit, not because I was mad or hurt, but because he's right. He says it's no big deal to him. He's accepted that I'm rather controlling about what and when I eat. I said, "But it's a big deal to me. I don't want to be that way." He said he loves me as I am, and thinks it's all about chipping away, slowly but surely. I think he gets it more than I credit him for getting it.
So, we went to The Counter, our favorite burger place. Normally, I only go there if I have like 24 hours to prepare mentally. But, I ate my custom-built burger, and my sweet potato fries. The world didn't end. However, I did have to put up with the lady at the table next to us asking the waiter for the lowest fat cheese. Then, when we got up to leave, she looked me up and down and said to her date, "See how nice and thin she is." Eyeroll. Anyway, when we got home, my husband gave me a hug. I said, "Did I do good?" and he said, "Superman does good, baby. You did well." I love this dude.
***
Today's gratitude:
1. See above.
2. Discovering that my husband likes to secretly drink my chocolate soy milk. This amuses me to no end. He used to scoff at soy milk.
3. Talking to my sister this morning. I don't know how she does it, but her light and cheery voice is like a strong arm, reaching down to lift me out from beneath my cloud deck to see the sun.
4. I'm in the newspaper :) The text-only article is online: http://headlines.ocregister.com/news/resnick-24822-beach-laguna.html
I read tomorrow. Eek!
5. My friend, J, was in a really bad car accident, but she is perfectly fine, by some kind of miracle. She sent me an email all about it today and it brought tears to my eyes. I don't know how she survived, but she did. Life is so short...
Anyway, I tend to like to feed negativity, like it's that plant in Little Shop of Horrors ("Feed me, Seymour!") so I found myself getting down about the fact that my husband doesn't want a dog, that we don't do anything fun, that I can't latch onto what I really want and have some peace and quiet in my brain. Then, my husband woke up and the day changed, just like that.
He came shopping with me and helped me pick out a dress for my friend's wedding (yes, I found one!). We went to look at some townhomes, just for fun (and to prepare a part of our brains to save for a new home). He said he was starving (he woke up late and hadn't eaten anything) and wanted to get lunch. I said I wasn't that hungry (since I'd just had my morning snack). Then I stopped myself and said, "But I'll eat with you." I told him I was having a hard day, but that sometimes I need to be pushed. He laughed and said him pushing me to go out to eat is like pushing down a brick wall with a toothpick. In other words, I'm close to impossible when it comes to being spontaneous about food. I kind of teared up a bit, not because I was mad or hurt, but because he's right. He says it's no big deal to him. He's accepted that I'm rather controlling about what and when I eat. I said, "But it's a big deal to me. I don't want to be that way." He said he loves me as I am, and thinks it's all about chipping away, slowly but surely. I think he gets it more than I credit him for getting it.
So, we went to The Counter, our favorite burger place. Normally, I only go there if I have like 24 hours to prepare mentally. But, I ate my custom-built burger, and my sweet potato fries. The world didn't end. However, I did have to put up with the lady at the table next to us asking the waiter for the lowest fat cheese. Then, when we got up to leave, she looked me up and down and said to her date, "See how nice and thin she is." Eyeroll. Anyway, when we got home, my husband gave me a hug. I said, "Did I do good?" and he said, "Superman does good, baby. You did well." I love this dude.
***
Today's gratitude:
1. See above.
2. Discovering that my husband likes to secretly drink my chocolate soy milk. This amuses me to no end. He used to scoff at soy milk.
3. Talking to my sister this morning. I don't know how she does it, but her light and cheery voice is like a strong arm, reaching down to lift me out from beneath my cloud deck to see the sun.
4. I'm in the newspaper :) The text-only article is online: http://headlines.ocregister.com/news/resnick-24822-beach-laguna.html
I read tomorrow. Eek!
5. My friend, J, was in a really bad car accident, but she is perfectly fine, by some kind of miracle. She sent me an email all about it today and it brought tears to my eyes. I don't know how she survived, but she did. Life is so short...
Friday, May 1, 2009
What are your commitments?
I read a great article in Yoga Journal yesterday about commitments. The author states:
“Commitment has two distinct sides. On the upside, our commitments are a prerequisite for depth…You can’t write a novel, establish a business, raise a child, or learn a language without wholehearted commitment – a kind of for-better-or-worse agreement with yourself that you’re going to show up for this person, or this project, even if it’s not going well, even if you’re not in the mood. Our capacity for keeping our commitments makes progress possible. But we can’t talk about commitment without acknowledging its undeniable shadow side: how a commitment can keep you stuck, can become a safety zone that prevents you from making needed changes – how it can turn into an excuse for not doing the work of inner growth.”
This, of course, got me thinking about my eating disorder and recovery. Let’s face it – I’ve made a pretty solid commitment to anorexia since the late nineties. That commitment has given me a sense of structure. It’s been a cause to which I’ve been very dedicated. I have notebooks full of food logs to prove it. But, as the author states, commitment has a shadow side. Those of us with eating disorders are all too aware of this.
The article goes on to discuss the need to identify our real “metacommitments,” described in hippie yoga terms as, “a vow you make with your own soul, with that part of your being that underlies your personality, the part of you that connects to the eternal.” HUH? Thankfully, she provided examples:
-To be of service.
-To make community.
-To be compassionate.
-To help make the world better.
She says that our metacommitments define us and, “When you know your metacommitments, you have criteria for evaluating major and minor life decisions.”
What are your metacommitments? What are mine?
I’ve lost so much because of my eating disorder. I’ve lost friendships. I’ve lost a sense of fun. I’ve lost bone mass. I’ve lost a healthy relationship with food. But, in my mind, the biggest tragedy is the loss of my sense of self. What matters to me now? What am I committed to? I don’t think I know. I mean, my life has been all about maintaining this odd sense of order for so long. I have been committed to counting calories, to planning meals, to keeping everything in check. That has taken priority over everything else. I’m ashamed to admit that, but it’s true.
The author of the article suggests ways to “discover your own metacommitments.” She says to set aside some of your assumptions about yourself and your life. First of all, what are my assumptions? Well, I assume that there is no good to making a mistake. I assume that I have to be responsible, and responsible means I have to save (or hoard) money, I have to stay at a job even if it’s meaningless, I can’t go back to school on a whim. I assume I need to watch what I eat or I’m going to lose my grip on everything. Seriously, these are assumptions I have.
Now, she says to look at some of the commitments I’ve made in my life: How many have been full-hearted? How many have NOT been driven by the values of culture, or by those unexamined beliefs about how I’m supposed to live? Ummm… I have to say that I do most things half-hearted, and the half of my heart that’s involved is almost 100% driven by a “should.” How sad is that? Have I killed my “authentic self”?
On to the questions she poses:
-What do I tend to be doing at the times when I feel happiest?
-Which of my gifts mean the most to me? Which feel most like “me”?
-What do I love about myself?
-What do others love about me?What am I good at?
-What really matters to me enough that I’m willing sacrifice for it?
-What threads of metacommitment can I see running through my life? How have they served me?
Really, the only one I can answer is the last one. I seem to have a metacommitment to “shoulds.” Yep. How sad is that? It has served me in that I can maintain this illusion of “purpose," but I’m not really happy. I’m always anxious, never still. I’m always chasing a dragon called Perfection. As a child, this meant straight A’s in school, never going to detention, getting praise from teachers. As an adult, it’s meant being the model employee, never forgetting an important date or appointment, crossing off everything on my to-do list. Anorexia is just an expression of all this. With this way of life, there is never satisfaction. I am always bracing for something unpredictable. I am always trying to prevent failure (note: I'm not always trying to succeed; just prevent failure).
The author says to come up with three metacommitments that I can make right now. These are commitments that I can keep regardless of where I am or who I’m with. Again, I’m stumped. I want to end my commitment with anorexia. I know that. But, what then? For the last 15 years, I’d say, I’ve felt completely detached from what I truly want. That’s why I’m so fickle. I feel too light, like a tissue blowing in hurricane-force winds. I’m not anchored to anything. How I feel, what I desire, changes like the weather. Why? Because much of who I am is based on concepts and ideas that are outside of myself. I worry what others think. I try to do the “right” thing. It’s all this focus on the external. What about me? Ok, so if I don’t know what I am committed to, maybe I can say what I want to be committed to…
-To live in honor of my body, caring for it and nurturing it.
-To express myself in writing, whether that’s a blog or a novel, focusing only on my creative pleasure and not on the opinions of a reader or publisher.
-To care about the planet, live as simply as I can, and educate myself about social and environment issues.
-To love my family.
-To show compassion and patience with others.
-To forgive.
That's what I can think of right now. What are your metacommitments?
***
Today's gratitude:
1. No Doubt on The Today Show this morning. One of my best memories from college is going to see No Doubt. It was a tiny venue. I was about 10 feet from the stage. It was amazing. I was thinking about going to see them on tour this summer, but I'm not sure a big venue could compare to my memory.
2. "Babel." Great movie. Not sure why it took me so long to watch it.
3. Grocery store trip today. I really do get pleasure from this.
4. The Challenge went well yesterday. I finished off a bunch of leftovers in the fridge (can I make a metacommitment to eating leftovers?).
5. Claritin. I have terrible allergies. I've accepted this. I'm relatively headache-free this morning, and I think Claritin is the reason.
“Commitment has two distinct sides. On the upside, our commitments are a prerequisite for depth…You can’t write a novel, establish a business, raise a child, or learn a language without wholehearted commitment – a kind of for-better-or-worse agreement with yourself that you’re going to show up for this person, or this project, even if it’s not going well, even if you’re not in the mood. Our capacity for keeping our commitments makes progress possible. But we can’t talk about commitment without acknowledging its undeniable shadow side: how a commitment can keep you stuck, can become a safety zone that prevents you from making needed changes – how it can turn into an excuse for not doing the work of inner growth.”
This, of course, got me thinking about my eating disorder and recovery. Let’s face it – I’ve made a pretty solid commitment to anorexia since the late nineties. That commitment has given me a sense of structure. It’s been a cause to which I’ve been very dedicated. I have notebooks full of food logs to prove it. But, as the author states, commitment has a shadow side. Those of us with eating disorders are all too aware of this.
The article goes on to discuss the need to identify our real “metacommitments,” described in hippie yoga terms as, “a vow you make with your own soul, with that part of your being that underlies your personality, the part of you that connects to the eternal.” HUH? Thankfully, she provided examples:
-To be of service.
-To make community.
-To be compassionate.
-To help make the world better.
She says that our metacommitments define us and, “When you know your metacommitments, you have criteria for evaluating major and minor life decisions.”
What are your metacommitments? What are mine?
I’ve lost so much because of my eating disorder. I’ve lost friendships. I’ve lost a sense of fun. I’ve lost bone mass. I’ve lost a healthy relationship with food. But, in my mind, the biggest tragedy is the loss of my sense of self. What matters to me now? What am I committed to? I don’t think I know. I mean, my life has been all about maintaining this odd sense of order for so long. I have been committed to counting calories, to planning meals, to keeping everything in check. That has taken priority over everything else. I’m ashamed to admit that, but it’s true.
The author of the article suggests ways to “discover your own metacommitments.” She says to set aside some of your assumptions about yourself and your life. First of all, what are my assumptions? Well, I assume that there is no good to making a mistake. I assume that I have to be responsible, and responsible means I have to save (or hoard) money, I have to stay at a job even if it’s meaningless, I can’t go back to school on a whim. I assume I need to watch what I eat or I’m going to lose my grip on everything. Seriously, these are assumptions I have.
Now, she says to look at some of the commitments I’ve made in my life: How many have been full-hearted? How many have NOT been driven by the values of culture, or by those unexamined beliefs about how I’m supposed to live? Ummm… I have to say that I do most things half-hearted, and the half of my heart that’s involved is almost 100% driven by a “should.” How sad is that? Have I killed my “authentic self”?
On to the questions she poses:
-What do I tend to be doing at the times when I feel happiest?
-Which of my gifts mean the most to me? Which feel most like “me”?
-What do I love about myself?
-What do others love about me?What am I good at?
-What really matters to me enough that I’m willing sacrifice for it?
-What threads of metacommitment can I see running through my life? How have they served me?
Really, the only one I can answer is the last one. I seem to have a metacommitment to “shoulds.” Yep. How sad is that? It has served me in that I can maintain this illusion of “purpose," but I’m not really happy. I’m always anxious, never still. I’m always chasing a dragon called Perfection. As a child, this meant straight A’s in school, never going to detention, getting praise from teachers. As an adult, it’s meant being the model employee, never forgetting an important date or appointment, crossing off everything on my to-do list. Anorexia is just an expression of all this. With this way of life, there is never satisfaction. I am always bracing for something unpredictable. I am always trying to prevent failure (note: I'm not always trying to succeed; just prevent failure).
The author says to come up with three metacommitments that I can make right now. These are commitments that I can keep regardless of where I am or who I’m with. Again, I’m stumped. I want to end my commitment with anorexia. I know that. But, what then? For the last 15 years, I’d say, I’ve felt completely detached from what I truly want. That’s why I’m so fickle. I feel too light, like a tissue blowing in hurricane-force winds. I’m not anchored to anything. How I feel, what I desire, changes like the weather. Why? Because much of who I am is based on concepts and ideas that are outside of myself. I worry what others think. I try to do the “right” thing. It’s all this focus on the external. What about me? Ok, so if I don’t know what I am committed to, maybe I can say what I want to be committed to…
-To live in honor of my body, caring for it and nurturing it.
-To express myself in writing, whether that’s a blog or a novel, focusing only on my creative pleasure and not on the opinions of a reader or publisher.
-To care about the planet, live as simply as I can, and educate myself about social and environment issues.
-To love my family.
-To show compassion and patience with others.
-To forgive.
That's what I can think of right now. What are your metacommitments?
***
Today's gratitude:
1. No Doubt on The Today Show this morning. One of my best memories from college is going to see No Doubt. It was a tiny venue. I was about 10 feet from the stage. It was amazing. I was thinking about going to see them on tour this summer, but I'm not sure a big venue could compare to my memory.
2. "Babel." Great movie. Not sure why it took me so long to watch it.
3. Grocery store trip today. I really do get pleasure from this.
4. The Challenge went well yesterday. I finished off a bunch of leftovers in the fridge (can I make a metacommitment to eating leftovers?).
5. Claritin. I have terrible allergies. I've accepted this. I'm relatively headache-free this morning, and I think Claritin is the reason.
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