Love and marriage

...go together like a horse and carriage. This is the second post in a row that has begun with song lyrics. I must be thinking musically.

Anyway, I wanted to thank everyone who has been so supportive of Larry and me. I hate the "messiness" of our relationship over the past few months, but I guess life is messy. I'm accepting that more and more.

I've put my wedding ring back on my finger. It's something I've been contemplating for a while now, and going to my sister's wedding yesterday affirmed some things for me. The ceremony was beautiful, with a few words of wisdom from the groom's dad (who officiated the ceremony) and my own dad (who gave a reading about the "rules of marriage"). The groom's dad said something that stuck with me: The marriage, as a whole, is better than its parts. I never "got" this idea before. I was always so stubbornly independent and attached to controlling my own existence. I forgot that when you marry someone, you create this thing with them -- a marriage -- and what's paramount is knowing at all times that no problem is bigger than that marriage. Yes, it's a huge commitment. It just is. The alternative is to live alone, managing my own world, keeping it as small as possible. That sounds tempting sometimes (seriously), but I know it's a lonely, unfulfilling existence for me.

(Instead of table numbers, my sister had quotes at each table. This was ours.)

I'm still a bit tired from the festivities, so bullet points and a few pictures will have to suffice for my recap:

• Friday, Larry and me went up to Pasadena and had lunch at this cafe I used to love when I lived there. I think it took me 20 minutes to pick something from the menu, but I settled on the Chinese chicken salad, which was delicious.


• The rehearsal was Friday night, at the Villa.


• Yes, the Villa. They got married at this huge, airy mansion built by a guy for his wife back in the 1920s. It looked to be plucked right from Italy. However, do not mistake "airy" for cool, as it was 100+ degrees and in true 1920s fashion, there was no air conditioning.


• The rehearsal dinner was at PF Chang's. I don't like family- style eating (after all, how the hell does one know what a "normal" amount is when there are 18 plates full of food from which to choose?). But, I did well: Lettuce wraps, chicken fried rice, a variety of other chicken dishes that were mysteries to me, and a fortune cookie :)


• There was a bag of almond M&Ms consumed on Friday night.


• The big day was relaxing -- hanging out with my cousins and the other bridesmaids, getting my hair and make-up done (always a luxury), eating pizza while trying not to smudge my lipstick.


• Getting ready with other women made me self-conscious. I'm way too thin.


• I read my passage in the ceremony, remembered to fluff my sister's train (I'm so not a girl so this stuff is weird for me), kept the wedding rings safe, and did not trip.


• My toast went very well, too. My sister seemed genuinely touched.
• I scarfed Casear salad, chicken, vegetables (of the buttery variety) and a huge mound of garlic mashed potatoes, without much thought or worry.


• We escaped before the drunk people got really scary.


• There was another bag of almond M&Ms consumed.

(Larry and me)

(Toast time)

(The Villa)

Overall, it was fun. It was a little awkward for Larry and me to be there, considering my immediate family knows about what we've been through the past few months. I don't really know what they think of him, or of me, and I've settled on just not worrying so much. I figure if they see us happy, they'll settle into that new happiness.

I got really emotional seeing my dad give his toast, and do the first dance with my sister. Larry and I did not do a big wedding. We had a family luncheon, but my dad didn't speak there. We didn't do traditional dances and other wedding rituals at our party. I don't regret that at all, but I do wish I could hear from my dad how much he loves me. I know he does, but it makes me sad that he doesn't express it much, unless there's a specific occasion that demands it.

Family events always seem to come with emotion, often unexpected and intense. It always takes me a few days to process things. Does anyone else feel that way?

***
Today's gratitude:

1. It's good to be HOME!

2. The wedding is over! I felt guilty feeling such relief until my sister told me she couldn't wait for it to be over too ;)

3. Grocery shopping soon. Ok, I'm not really grateful for this as I don't feel like taking my tired body to the store, but I'm grateful to get it over with today as opposed to this week because...

4. ...I'll be really busy this week. I got a side job that will keep my brain from turning to mush.

5. Calzone night!

If you like pina coladas...

When Larry and I split up a few months ago, I put our relationship in a nice, neat package with a pretty bow and placed it on the conveyor belt to the Land of Failed Love. The tag on the box said, "This relationship was anorexic. I'm hungry for more."

I was hungry for someone who would get excited about life with me -- everything from trying a new restaurant to watching a just-released DVD to going on a trip somewhere. I was hungry for someone who would want to know me fully, anorexia and all. I was hungry for someone who cared about my writing, my thoughts, my dreams. I was hungry for affection, for feeling loved and wanted. I was hungry for someone who was also hungry, for someone with whom I could share an appetite for life.

Turns out, I was hungry for the guy I married. Doh. I was hungry for the guy I'd started to call my almost-ex-husband. I was hungry for him to just be himself.

This is where I bust out into song: "If you like pina coladas, and getting caught in the rain..." I always thought that song was so weird -- a man, disenchanted with his current relationship, reads the personals and spots an ad that catches his attention: the ad of a woman who is seeking a man who, among other things, must like pina coladas. Intrigued, he writes back and arranges to meet with the woman, only to find upon meeting that his new lover is his current lover. Moral of the story: The two lovers realize they have more in common than they suspected, and that they do not have to look any further than each other for what they seek in a relationship.

When Larry and I first started talking again, after he was set up in his own apartment and I was sprawling out in my bed alone at night, I thought we were just being mature friends. Yes, friends. Obviously, I still cared for him. He'd been a part of my life for a long time, so it didn't feel unnatural to be in touch. But, I was determined to be decisive and practical and "strong." I was not going back, damn it. I was in control! Until I wasn't, and I realized that was okay.

It started with him inviting me over for dinner. He would cook. He never cooked before! I never minded cooking for the two of us, but I would have appreciated him doing it every now and then, especially when I was starting to get resentful about the imbalance we were having -- I felt like I was giving too much, and taking very little in return. Of course, I never asked him to make dinner. I have this tendency to expect people in my life to be mindreaders. Unrealistic? Maybe ;) Anyway, he started suggesting outings for us -- SeaWorld, movies, football games, hanging out with friends. This was also revolutionary. Before, we were the bubble couple. We're both rut-prone introverts. We get complacent very easily. While he is the happy kind of complacent (he really does like to be at home, with the computers and TV), I can become the resentful kind of complacent. This means I start to think, "Why don't we ever DO anything? I'm bored, I'm unhappy," though in true anorexic fashion, I don't actually say these things out loud. After all, I have two things working against me: 1) I hate sounding demanding, and 2) I hate being rejected.

We've talked about the past. We've talked about the present. We've talked about the future. We know we may have some of the same issues rear their ugly heads again. I think we'll be able to spot them sooner and talk about them sooner though. I know that one lingering issue for me is this fear of the unknown, of life throwing a curveball (lost job/income, depression, whatever) that will make me want to forfeit, give up, give in. I know marriage is a partnership -- "for better or worse" and all that. My sister asked me to read this passage at her wedding on Saturday:

Marriage is a commitment to life,

the best that two people can find and bring out in each other.

It offers opportunities for sharing and growth

that no other relationship can equal.

It is a physical and an emotional joining that is promised for a lifetime.

Within the circle of its love, marriage encompasses all of life's more important relationships.

A wife and husband are each other's best friend, confidant, lover, teacher, listener, and critic.

And there may come times when one partner is heartbroken or ailing,

and the love of the other may resemble the tender caing of a parent or child.

Marriage deepens and enriches every facet of life.

Happiness is fuller, memories are fresher,

commitment is stronger, even anger is felt more strongly, and passes away more quickly.

Marriage understands and forgives the mistakes life is unable to avoid.

It encourages and nurtures new life, new experiences, new ways of expressing a love that is deeper than life.

When two people pledge their love and care for each other in marriage,

they create a spirit unique unto themselves, which binds them closer

than any spoken or written words.

Marriage is a promise, a potential made in the hearts of two people who love each other,

and takes a lifetime to fulfill.

I admit I feel a little fraudulent reading it. Everything it says about marriage is exactly true, and when I got married, I lacked something that underlies this passage, and marriage -- faith. Anorexia is in direct opposition to faith. Anorexia is all about control, planning, predicting. Merging with a human is none of those things. And, yet, it's something I want. I want to let go. I don't pretend it's easy for me. It's certainly not. But, it's something I want.

***

Today's gratitude:

1. My sister's wedding festivities start tomorrow! We're off to Pasadena (my old stomping grounds) in the morning! I have my packing list prepared :)

2. My brute :) I love this online game. Create a character and fight my brute, Hoopdiggity: http://hoopdiggity.mybrute.com/

3. Self-manicure and pedicure after I post this.

4. Gearing up for an Amazon.com splurge. Thank you all for recommending that Barry Schwartz book, "The Paradox of Choice." I can't wait to read it.

5. Last day of work for the week!

Mixed signals

I'm sitting here reading the new issue of Psychology Today, which has a great article called "Mixed Signals," about the discrepancies between the way we see ourselves and the way others see us. It caught my attention because Larry and I have talked quite a bit recently about how restrained I can be with my emotions. When something really pisses me off, it comes across to him (and most humans, probably) as very mild irritation. I have this calm face, while inside I'm thinking, "I'M SO UPSET, WHY CAN'T YOU SEE IT? F&$%#@!"

Obviously, there is a disconnect between the way I feel/think and the way I'm perceived by the outside world. This disconnect is facilitated (for lack of a better word) by anorexia. Anorexia is a shield. It hardens my exterior, when really I am very soft. It makes me seem controlled, when really I am not.

The article describes four categories:

• Bright spots: Things known by both you and others, like the fact that you're talkative or extroverted
• Dark spots: Things known by neither you or others, like deep unconcious motives that drive your behaviors
• Personal spots: Things known only by you, like your tendency to get anxious in crowds or your contempt for co-workers
• Blind spots: Things known only by others, which can include such factors as your level of hostility and defensiveness, your attractiveness and your intelligence

I hadn't really thought about myself in these categories before. The most interesting, to me, are the last two because that's where the discrepancies lie. For me, my bright spots are somewhat obvious. I think most people would say I'm reserved, and they're not wrong there. I am reserved. I'm not likely to go crazy doing tequila shots at a party. Most people would say that I'm responsible, which is also true. I don't flake on jobs or projects. I'm a good worker. I'm pretty smart. These are the non-disputable traits.

But, what about personal spots or blind spots? With personal spots, I have quite a few discrepancies that I can think of just off the top of my head. Most people see me as calm, cool and collected. I see myself as easily-unnerved and moody, yet collected. I've had people tell me I seem carefree, which is hilarious to me, as I could not be free of care unless I was in a coma. I have too many cares, so it's a little strange to me that people don't realize this. Do I hide my anxiety that well? It gives me a chill to think I do. I think I come across as rational, logical and practical -- a realist. In actuality, I'd say I'm very, very sensitive and much more emotional -- an idealist. Though I'm reserved, I am not conservative, nor conventional. I'm definitely on the progressive/liberal side of the spectrum, and though I'd like to go with convention, my instincts often stray from that. I used to accept the general assumption that I'm quiet and shy, but I'm really not. I'm friendly, just selectively. And I have a hell of a lot to say if I like you.

As for blind spots, I don't really know what others know about me that I don't know about myself. The article suggests asking friends, family and co-workers directly, but this seems like a bad idea for a Facebook application, doesn't it?

What are your spots? How do you think your eating disorder inhibits you from being who you really are?

***
Today's gratitude:
1. I love Psychology Today.
2. I also love the show "Intervention." It makes me cry almost every time. I'm sure some "dark spot" could explain that.
3. Japanese class tonight!
4. I have a side job coming my way, which should keep me nice and busy :)
5. I don't want to crawl out of my skin today, which is what I've wanted to do the past few days. Eating so much has not felt good, but I expected as much.

Decisions, decisions

I've been struggling lately with making decisions. Granted, I've done quite a bit of self-discovery and come to the conclusion that I'm afraid of commitment, so it makes sense that I'd struggle with decisions. Making a decision usually means making a commitment (even if it's a decision as small as what to eat for breakfast). Also, I said recently that my biggest fear is regret, and this also seems very much linked to my fear of decision-making and commitment.

Here's the crux of the problem: For me, choosing something means mourning the loss of the billions (yes, billions) of other things I didn't choose. I realize that this sets me up to be forever-unhappy. After all, there are so many possibilities, especially in our society the way it is now. We go to the grocery store and we have eight different brands of spaghetti sauce to choose (or maybe more). We are told, as children, that we can be anything we want to be -- an astronaut, an olympian, President of the USA, anything. ANYTHING. While the idea of endless opportunities may excite many people, energizing them with enthusiasm, it puts me in a state of panic and seemingly-endless anxiety. I mean, there are so many options. There are so many potential choices. There are so many pros and cons. And, here's the kicker -- there are no guarantees.

Let's say I want to go on a trip. I have to decide where to go. I research online. There are so many cities in the U.S. I want to go to -- Chicago, Boston, Seattle, Washington DC. I could go to National Parks. I could do a road trip. Or maybe I should go abroad? How expensive are plane flights? What about hotels? Will I have to rent a car? By the time I assess all these details, I may begin to wonder if I should even go on a trip. Wouldn't it be better to save up my time off? Trips are expensive. I'd have to board the poor cats. I'd get behind at work. What if there was a trip mishap (missed flight, food poisoning, natural disaster, Apocalypse, etc)? At this point, my head is completely mixed up and I don't know what the hell I want anymore. I'm overwhelmed by the number of paths. If there was just a regular fork in the road, I could handle that, but most of the forks I encounter have about 300 tines.

I've often thought about "the old days" and how people were born with the last name Blacksmith and that meant they became blacksmiths. How wonderful, I thought! There is no torturous pondering of, "What do I want?" There is no existential crisis. You just DO. To me, this seems like a happier existence. I am made unhappy by the search for the "right" thing. Sometimes, for me, just choosing something, anything, gives me more peace, even if it's not the "ideal" (whatever that means). Perhaps this means my brain is Socialist? Communist? Anyway, it's definitely not capitalist. Capitalizing tires me. I don't want to capitalize anymore; I just want to make my choices, own them, and move on, with relief instead of "but..." or "maybe..." Sure, I could have been happier with another choice -- who knows? But, what I do know is that I'll be unhappy if I dwell on that other choice.

My good friend sent me a transcript from NPR, featuring the author of Stumbling on Happiness, Daniel Gilbert. Here is what he says:

...At least twice a week, someone asks me for the secret of happiness, which they evidently think I know but have been keeping to myself. They're surprised when I tell them that the secret of happiness is fresh tortillas and raw jalapenos for breakfast every Sunday. I moved to Massachusetts from Texas about a decade ago and the New Englanders who asked me this question are surprised to learn that anyone actually eats raw jalapenos and much less for breakfast. But, what surprises them isn't what I eat but that I eat the same thing every Sunday. Jalapenos may be the spice of Texas, but don't I know that variety is the spice of life? Of course I do. But I also know that variety has costs.

...Variety requires choice and choice requires time... I eat the same breakfast every Sunday for the same reason that I own 15 pairs of cargo pants in just two colors. We should only want variety among things that we enjoy thinking about and I just don't get much pleasure out of thinking about my breakfast or my trousers.

I can relate to this. I'm actually a much happier person when I don't spend hours deciding what to eat for a meal. I like having a few things to choose from, but not 25. My problems with my eating usually have to do with having too many ideas about what would be good to eat. Maybe this is abnormal with people who have anorexia, I don't know. All I know is that I can deliberate over what to have for dinner (or what DVD to watch with dinner) for an agonizingly long time.

My biggest decisions as of late relate to Larry. We have been so happy together the past couple months. We have learned so much, and spent hours talking about those lessons. So, what now? Do we stay married? Do we live together again? These are big decisions and I recognize the peace that could come from just making them, knowing that all I have is the present information and some faith. That's all any of us has. There are always a multitude of choices, but, as my therapist says, there is no "right" or "wrong." There are no guarantees and, as much as that pisses me off, it's something I have to accept if I'm going to be happy. And I'd like to be happy.

How do you do with choices? How do you think this is related to anorexia? I can see that anorexia (restricting thoughts and food) is a way to keep the world smaller, so that's why I pose the question.


***
Today's gratitude:
1. My wonderful writing friend (and writer of this blog) turned me on to this hilarious blog: http://www.unnecessaryquotes.com/
2. Larry and I went to dinner last night with his boss and his boss' wife. I really enjoyed myself, which is always a triumph when a menu (with lots of choices) is involved.
3. We saw "Inglourious Basterds," the new Quentin Tarantino movie. I loved it! Great dialogue.
4. Looking at homes this weekend made me happier with my current condo. Yes, the market is great right now, but doesn't really offer what I'd truly want for what I can afford. This is another example of my trouble with choice. There are all kinds of places to live, but I feel some relief in deciding to stay where I'm at for now.
5. Laziness on a Sunday.

A husband's perspective

While I don't talk about it too much here, Larry and I have been spending more and more time together, putting pieces of our relationship back together. One major piece has been collaborating to understand more about my anorexia and my recovery. I asked him to answer a few questions, as a guest Q&A, and he was more than happy to participate. If you guys have any more questions for a dude who went and fell in love with an anorexic chick, I'll pass them on :) Or, you can ask him yourself. Check out his blog. Yes, he started a blog!

What was your understanding of eating disorders before you met Kim?
I never really thought about it that much. I was a naturally skinny guy for most of my life, so when people told me they were just skinny and had a high metabolism, I never assumed that they might have an ED. Obviously, without any experience, I was very ignorant about eating disorders. I just thought people with EDs were really self-absorbed and obsessed with how they look.

What is your understanding of eating disorders now?
I still feel like I have a lot to learn, and I doubt I will ever fully understand what it's like for a person with an ED, but the most important thing I've learned is that anorexia affects more than just eating. It's almost like a lifestyle. It's not like you just eat a certain way, you think a certain way. There's a lot of trying to control things and plan things and restrict things. Kim makes a lot of lists, which I think is an attempt to add structure to her life in an "anorexic" way. How I've come to understand anorexia is completely different than I would have ever imagined before meeting Kim. I don't think it has to do with vanity at all; I see it as a disease. I think there's always a combination of nature vs. nurture. I can see Kim's anxiety as something biological. But, I also think that things in her life contributed to her developing this particular disorder.

How did you find out Kim had struggled/was struggling with anorexia?
When I first met Kim, I thought she was thin. She was dating someone else at the time and I remember asking him, in a half-joking way, if she disappeared to the bathroom after she ate. He said "no" and that she ate a lot. When we started dating, I saw that she did eat a lot, so I didn't think of anorexia. I had the idea that anorexia meant not eating at all. Kim filled her plate in a normal way. It's only over time that I realized the strategy behind her eating. She would fill her plate, but I realized that some of the foods were lower-calorie than I knew. What I did notice was that she was particular about what she ate, but there are lots of picky eaters, so I still didn't know it was a "problem." It was only when she told me about her past with anorexia that I started thinking about it more. I assumed it was in the past, and it's only in the last year or so that I've begun to understand how complex the disease is and how it still is a part of her life.

What is your perception of Kim's attitudes toward food?
I have a lot of mixed feelings on this subject. I think the one thing I know for sure is that Kim is a very picky eater. She talks about wanting to gain weight and, in my mind, it'd be easy with some cheeseburgers, but she fights me on that. She argues that peanut butter is high calorie, but I have a hard time believing that, though I have no idea really. I realize I'm completely uneducated about food and nutrition. But I still think if she truly had no disorder, she would drink milkshakes every day. But, she does have a disorder, and I don't judge her for that. I know it's not really about food, so I don't make a big deal about it. I know she can gain weight, with little victories. She does eat a lot, but she eats very "healthy," in my opinion. I'd love to see her push herself more.

How has anorexia affected the relationship?
I have a hard time recognizing how it's affected the relationship in that I'm not sure I think of her and her anorexia as two different things. I was diagnosed with bipolar II years ago, but I don't often categorize my behaviors as either "me" or "bipolar." To me, bipolar disorder is part of who I am, and I think anorexia is part of who Kim is. It's not that I think she is her disease, but just that her actions and thoughts are her own, and even in recovery she is probably influenced by her past experiences, including ones that directly involved anorexia.

What would you tell other people in a relationship with someone who has anorexia?
Well, I imagine that everyone is different, but I think these are the things I've learned:

• Don't assume it's not a serious problem, even if she tells you it's in the past, or it's not that big of a deal. I would recommend talking to a therapist separately to get a professional opinion on how you can be supportive.
• Don't try to give advice about food. She probably knows way more than you.
• Be realistic about what you see versus what you hear. I'm not suggesting you try to monitor her or make weird assumptions about what she's eating or not eating when you're not around, but I think it's important to follow your gut and pay attention to what you see. If it looks like she's not eating enough, then she's probably not eating enough when you're not looking, too.
• If you think she's not eating enough, I don't think you should confront her head-on at first. I think it's important to try to make adjustments in how and what you guys eat together and see if there is any change. I think it's important to ask questions if you are concerned, but make sure you are doing it in a place and way that she feels comfortable. In my experience, a recovering anorexic will eventually spill the beans if something is not right. It may come out in an odd way, like an unexpected resolution to commit to a new food plan, but this is usually a sign that something isn't quite right. I take comfort in these moments because it means she knows what's up and she's involving me by sharing.
• Anorexia is not something you can fix. There is no explanation or logic that you can show her that will change her. I think it's important to accept her and not try to fix her. I think it's important to be prepared for continued support and for there to be recurring issues that may never entirely "go away."
• Be loving, supportive and, most of all, patient.

Again, these are only based on my experience with one anorexic woman. I would imagine that it could be a completely different story for another person or gender.


THANKS, Larry :)

***
Today's gratitude:
1. I have my massage tonight!
2. I'm doing well with eating more (which, for me, means not slacking off on snacks, mostly... Oop, it's time for a snack now, actually).
3. "Family Guy: Season 7": Watched some episodes last night. I love Stewie!
4. I finished the toast for my sister's wedding (which is August 29th -- wow!). I hope she likes it!
5. Home-browsing this weekend. The market is so temptingly good right now (is "temptingly" a word?). It's always fun to look...

Truth be told

Katie from Under the Stars was nice enough to pass this award on to me. Thanks, Katie! She has a great blog about recovery -- triumphs, frustrations, everything. And she's doing very well, which is a big inspiration.

Here's the description: This award is bestowed on a fellow blogger whose blog content or design is, in the giver's opinion, brilliant. This award is about bloggers who post from their heart, who often put their heart on display as they write. There are three rules that need to be followed on accepting this award:

1. Brag about it. 2. Select seven blogs you find brilliant and link to them. 3. List 10 honest things about yourself.

Hm, bragging is not my strong suit. But, I will say that I try to be very honest with my blog (and I'm getting better at transferring that honesty and vulnerability to life). The truths of one day may contradict the truths of the next day, but I try to be honest each time I sit down to write. I write from my heart, accepting that my heart is an ever-changing thing. Life and emotions are not always so linear and orderly. Just re-reading some of my older posts tells me that.

Here are seven bloggers I think deserve this award: Tiptoe at Between Living and Existing, Cammy at Building Beauty Beyond Body, Lola at Marine Snow, Just Eat It, Sarah at Bearing Eating Being, E at Wrapped Up in Life, and I Hate to Weight.

Now, 10 honest things about myself. Here I go:

1. If I had to grab 5 things in a fire, I'd take my photo albums, my laptop, my journals, my cats and my retainers (not in any particular order).

2. Whenever I pull out a strand of loose hair and let it fall to the ground, I think about how I'm leaving my DNA in a random location.

3. I keep a list of all the books I've read and movies I've seen...with star ratings.

4. I can't whistle or snap.

5. I'm deeply saddened when people don't use apostrophes correctly.

6. I can jump into large bodies of water from very high heights without my head going under.

7. My biggest fear is regret.

8. I doubt I could be happy if I had children. I don't know for sure (how could I?), but I doubt it. I do know for sure that I could be happy without children.

9. I like writing in pencil because I can always erase.

AND... #10. I don't want to say it because I feel like I thought I was doing so well. But here it is:

10. I don't weigh enough.

Last month, I got my period. I was overjoyed. My period has not come this month, and I don't think it will. I was on the pill for years and I think the leftover hormones were still in my system last month. This month, I feel the change. They're not here.

I'm forced to consider that I've been at a too-low weight for too long. Larry sees me more than anyoe. He recognizes that I've gotten too comfortable with this plateau. He can see that I'm not actively restricting, but I'm not actively gaining either. Conveniently, I need a lot of food to gain. So, when I eat what seems to be a good amount of food, it looks promising to an outsider, but I know I'll just stay the same weight-wise. When I ate 3,000 calories for 30 days, I gained some weight. That was serious effort! I didn't weigh myself for a while after that and when I did again, I'd lost some of it. I wasn't trying to. I just slacked off with keeping up that amount. When I filed for divorce, despite going out to eat every freaking day, I lost the rest of it (and a little more). What the hell? Stress? I've been weighing myself once a week and I've been going up slowly, but essentially, I'm back where I was (and where I had been since, oh, 2003). And that is obviously not enough.

I whine about how old I am, how I've been doing this for too long. Larry reminds me that he tried to quit smoking 50 times before he actually quit. There's no use harping on the past and wallowing in regret. There are always chances to make progress, start anew. I'm tired of the story of my recovery life. It's like the Paula Abdul song: "Two steps forward, two steps back..." (See how old I am? I just referenced Paula Abdul).

I find it so strange how we get used to our bodies being a certain size. I've gotten...complacent. I'm not complacent about anything else in my life. I'm always trying harder, looking for improvements to be made. If anything, I'm usually on the discontent side of things. But, with my weight, I've been way too content. I've just given it a casual shrug: Yes, I'm too thin, but it's not THAT bad, right? RIGHT?

But, it IS that bad. If you're not getting your period and you're 29 years old, it IS that bad.

When researching amenorrhea, I came across reminders of the long-term effects of anorexia:

• Recovery rates vary between 23-50%.
• Up to 30% of patients do not recover (Yikes. I do NOT want to be in this statistic).
• Even after treatment and weight gain, many patients continue to display characteristics of the disorder, including perfectionism, which could keep them at risk for recurrence (I see myself in this statement).
• Some research suggests that anorexia has the highest death rate of any psychiatric disorder.
• One of the most serious side effects of anorexia is hormonal changes. Reproductive hormones are lower. Estrogen, which is important for healthy hearts and bones, is lower. Thyroid hormones are lower and stress hormones are higher (probably doesn't help with anxiety).
• In 25% of patients, normal menstruation never returns.
• Women with anorexia are more likely to have problems with fertility.
• About 90% of people with anorexia have osteopenia (me included), and 40% have osteoporosis (can't bring myself to get a bone scan for this).
• Brain scans indicate that parts of the brain undergo structural changes and abnormal activity during anorexic states. Some of these changes return to normal after weight gain, but there is evidence that some damage may be permanent.

Sobering stuff.

So, now what? Hi-ho, hi-ho, it's back to the meal plan I go. It's all that's really worked for me. I really, really do need to gain 10-15 pounds from where I am right NOW to be healthy. I have a very loose meal plan currently, but I need something stricter. And I need to be accountable about it. Larry is a big support, so that's good.

I know you all have lots of thoughts about this and personal experience. What's worked for you?

One last question: Is this the longest post ever? I think so.

***

Today's gratitude:

1. I Hate to Weight... asked me my favorite nonfiction books, which means I get to make a list: The Art of Happiness (Dalai Lama), Blink (Malcolm Gladwell), Decoding Love (Andrew Trees), Devil in the Details (Jennifer Traig), Eat Pray Love (Elisabeth Gilbert), The Glass Castle (Jeannette Walls), Going Hungry (Kate Taylor), I Was Told There'd Be Cake (Sloane Crosley), any David Sedaris, Mind Wide Open (Steven Johnson), Revolution from Within (Gloria Steinem), Running with Scissors and Dry (Augusten Burroughs), Stiff (Mary Roach), Toxic Success (Paul Pearsall).

2. I get to make a meal plan today. I say "get to" in an attempt to be excited :)

3. Sunshine and napping cats.

4. Larry's guest Q&A: to be posted sometime this week!

5. "Julie and Julia" waiting on my nightstand (still reading "The Hour I First Believed").

Q&A: Fun stuff

This will be the last of the Q&A posts, unless you guys have any more questions :)


From Kristina at Borderland Diaries:

"What are some of your favorite books? And why?"

Conveniently, I just listed my 15 favorite books in one of those pesky Facebook notes:
1. Catch 22 by Joseph Heller
2. Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger
3. The Great Gatsy by F Scott Fitzgerald
4. Choke by Chuck Palahniuk
5. Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs
6. Portnoy's Complaint by Philip Roth
7. Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri
8. Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
9. Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris
10. Slaughterhouse 5 by Kurt Vonnegut
11. Veronika Decides to Die by Paulo Coehlo
12. What is the What by Dave Eggers
13. White Tiger by Aravind Adiga
14. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon
15. The World According to Garp by John Irving


These books are all very different, but what they have in common is that they have a really strong narrating voice. I love a narrator with attitude. Catcher in the Rye was my favorite book as a teenager because it made me stop and say, "Whoa, people write like that?" It opened up my own writing. I also love quirky stories. I can't get into genre books -- romance, fantasy, etc. I just can't. No, I have not read a single Harry Potter book. Sorry ;)


"Do you think life imitates art, or does art imitate life?"
I think art imitates life. I think art is an exaggerated expression of life. My writing, even my fiction writing, is very reflective of extreme emotions that exist in my head. I play out emotions through characters and storylines.


“Do you think you have your ‘own’ style? If so, what is it/how is it?”
Is "I heart cardigans" a style? If so, that is my style. I love cardigans -- different colors, different patterns. I like to keep things simple, in general. I have like 3 pairs of jeans that I wear, and a variety of tank tops and solid-color shirts. If I could afford it, I'd shop at Anthropologie all the time. But, I find it odd to pay so much to look like I don't pay a lot. I see pictures in magazines and wish I was more daring with style, but my patent leather red shoes are as daring as I get.

From Sophia at Burp and Slurp:
“What did you benefit most from this blog?”
This blog introduced me to a community that I did not know existed. It makes my life much fuller to communicate with people on a daily basis. And, this blog helps me stay aware of my thoughts and feelings. I have a personal journal, but writing a public blog makes me much more accountable. I have to face things more head-on because of this blog, and I'm constantly encouraged in my recovery.

“Why are you so freaking wonderful?”
LOL. I'm not a big fan of "LOL"-ing, but that deserved it. Thanks, Sophia :-)



***
Today's gratitude:

1. Great time at the Chargers game yesterday. It was just a pre-season game, but it was super crowded (and, the drunk people behind us swear that it took 3 hours to get into the stadium. I think it was only 20 minutes, but whatever). They lost (the Chargers, not the drunk people).


This is Larry and me tailgating (his brother, his brother's wife, and their son were there too). I should have gotten a picture in the stadium, from the seats, with the game in the background...but no.



2. Relaxing today. Indoor "rock" climbing was on the agenda, tentatively, but I'm feeling lazy. I like having "tentative" plans. I get so fixed about everything usually. The "True Blood" par-tay is tonight. Love that show.


3. Calzone night tonight!


4. The funeral service for the little girl who died was yesterday. I'm told it was really beautiful and uplifting, which is the most you can hope for from a funeral, I think.


5. I feel good about the week ahead.

Q&A: Adventures!

First of all, sorry to those who realized I took my blog down briefly. I got a few e-mails saying, "WTF?" (in nice ways). What happened was this: My husband found my blog. This was rather embarrassing and unnerving for me (and for him too, at first). I wasn't sure what to do, so I took it down. But, I thought about it, slept on it (well, not really -- more like I "tossed and turned" about it) and we talked about it, and he's fully supportive of everything I write -- good, bad, ugly. I'm grateful for that. I've always assumed that if someone knows what I *really* think and feel, I'll be shunned. But, that's not the case. He said he's actually amazed at my writing, and he wants to keep reading. He may even do a guest post. Do it, Larry! That's his name, by the way. I have full permission to use it so I don't have to stumble over initials and titles. When I think about it, I'm glad he found it. I'd be ok with most people I know finding it. I'm not ashamed about my truths, even if they change sometimes, and even if they're not always pretty. I'm working on censoring less and less, so hold on to your hats and glasses (does anyone else LOVE "Thunder Mountain" at Disneyland?).

Anyway... back to the Q&A...

In my last session, my therapist asked me what some of my dreams are. In my recently-realized commitment-phobic state, I have a hard time seeing the future for myself sometimes. It really is way easier to take it one day at a time, without too many grand plans. At least, that’s how it is for me, for now. But, sometimes, I feel excitement bubble up inside me about certain things, and a couple questions inspired me to take note of those certain things.

From Kristina at Borderland Diaries:
“I’ve always loved the title of your blog, ‘Adventures in wanting.’ Obviously, you can’t really predict what your next adventure will be, but what are some adventures that you’d like to experience?”

This is similar to Sarah’s question of “What are some of your dreams for the future?”

This question demands a list o' WANTING, and we all know how much I love lists! Here we go:

I want to visit as many baseball stadiums as I can. I’ve been to quite a few already, but there are lots on my list.
I want to visit Chicago.
I want to visit Seattle (and eat pizza at Delancey, the restaurant just opened by the husband of one of my favorite food bloggers).
I want to drive to the Grand Canyon.
I want to visit all the National Parks.
I want to climb Half Dome in Yosemite.
I want to buy one of those “Hiking Trails Near You” guides and actually use it.
I want a bike.
On that note, I want a home with a place to keep a bike.
I want a 2-car garage!
I want to go river-rafting.
I want to ride rollercoasters at as many amusement parks as humanly possible.
I want to spend the holidays somewhere with snow.
I want to travel to all sorts of places in Europe: Amsterdam, Greece, Prague, Italy, Croatia, Turkey, Belgium, Brussels.
I want to get better at Japanese, and go to Okinawa (we didn’t make it all the way there last time).
I want to go to Canada in summer again (I went once when I was a kid).
I want to go to Australia and New Zealand.
I want to publish a book!
I want to publish more than one book!
I want to go on a book tour and read in front of people.
I want to try new restaurants.
I want to go to the grocery store and buy a bunch of stuff I wouldn't normally buy, just to change it up.
I want to try recipes and get more confident with my cooking.
I want to visit my friends who have moved, for various reasons, to various places: Denver, Boston, Albany.
I want to get massages at least once a month for ETERNITY.
I want to cut my hair short sometime.
I want to spend a thousand bucks on new clothes when I gain 15 pounds.
I want to try an indoor “rock” climbing membership.
I want to go back to yoga classes, see what it’s like to stick with it for a year.
I want granite countertops and stainless steel appliances in my kitchen.
I want to “go crazy” and buy every book in my Amazon cart.
I want to cry in therapy more.
I want to pick a class at random and take it.
I want to go to an Olympics (summer, please).
I want to see what it’s like to go without a to-do list for a month (yes, a whole month!).
I want to add to my DVD collection.
I want to spend many hours in movie theaters.
I want to try dancing.
I want to go to a few more concerts -- how did I miss No Doubt coming back?
I want to love fully and completely, which means letting go and having faith
I want to laugh so hard I pee (Is that weird?)

That's what comes to mind at the moment :) Have a great weekend!

***
Today’s gratitude:
1. I had dinner with my sister-in-law last night at California Pizza Kitchen (enjoyed 2/3 of a pizza, thankyouverymuch). It was great to talk with her.
2. It's Friday!
3. My backyard trees shall be trimmed in the next hour. I swear. I'm going to get up after this post and go to work. Maybe.
4. I'm going to Trader Joe's today -- maybe I'll try out a few new things.
5. Chargers pre-season game tomorrow! I don't love football, but I love sporting event crowds, except when they're drunk.

Intermission

I intended to do another Q&A post today, but life has gone and interferred (like it does).

Yesterday, I got some heartbreaking news. A former co-worker's three-year-old daughter passed away. She was born with some medical complications, but she has been healthy and normal for the last few years. For a reason yet unknown, she did not wake up from her nap yesterday. Just like that. She just didn't wake up. I cannot even imagine her parents' pain. They are the sweetest, most positive, good-natured parents. I can't stop thinking about them. I think of their thoughts as she napped: "She's sleeping longer than normal. Must be tired." I think of them trying to wake her. It's awful. It doesn't make any sense. It just doesn't. Please keep them in your hearts and thoughts, even though you don't know them.

I don't do well with death. Nobody does, I suppose. The idea of life vanishing in an instant is just so crazy to me. I spend so much time trying to prepare and plan and control things, so when something like this happens suddnely, I'm confused and unnerved. I am forced to realize that my "system" just doesn't work. Life is messy. Bad stuff happens. My worrying is an attempt to prevent bad stuff from happening, but worrying is futile. It doesn't accomplish anything. I have moments of understanding this, embracing it even. It's liberating in a way. All we can really do is make the most of TODAY. That's it.

Today, my therapist read me a children's story called "Wemberly Worries." We both agree it should be called "Kimberly Worries." It's about a little girl who worries about EVERYTHING. She worries about nobody showing up to her party; then, when a crowd comes, she worries there won't be enough cake. See, that's the thing with worry -- it doesn't end. In the story, the little girl calms herself by rubbing the ears on her stuffed rabbit. My therapist and I agree that my "stuffed rabbit" is anorexia. It's distraction, and distraction is comforting. Behind the rituals and routines is fear -- of life and all its uncertainties. Strip away the rituals and routines and I have to confront that fear and the messiness of life.

I've only come to realize just how afraid I am (and how anorexia quells my fears) in the last couple months. It's related to splitting up with my husband. Here I was, signing on for a LIFETIME with someone. Immediately after we got married, we had problems. And I freaked out. I'm not saying that the problems weren't real; they were. But, I'm only now realizing how completely shaken I am when things don't go according to "plan." I'm only now realizing how fast I run away when I'm scared. I'm only now realizing that I'm a commitment phobe because commitment means embracing the unknown. Tying myself to something (or someone) means my world is no longer so small and manageble. It is populated, suddenly, by another human. And, if you ask me, humans are terrifying. They are not predictable at all (hello, I am evidence of this).

So, I come back to what my therapist says: Life is messy. It's a giant mess. I can either deny this and spend my life taking inventory of my fridge, or I can accept it and live with the knowledge that, yes, ANYTHING can happen, and that's okay. We survive. I'm making the choice (on a daily basis) to accept it.

***
Today's gratitude:
1. LIFE.
2. I'm looking forward to catching up with a friend tonight -- just some chatting at my place, maybe an episode or two of "Entourage" on DVR.
3. I've officially transitioned to real mayo. I threw out the light stuff a long time ago, and I've had the jar of full-fat stuff in my fridge, sitting there, waiting to be used. Today, I decided to stop denying that I don't "feel" like a tuna sandwich. I do! I was just afraid of the mayo. No more.
4. My weight is up 3 pounds since the last time I weighed (a couple weeks ago, I think).
5. A nice weekend is taking shape -- pre-season Chargers game in San Diego? "True Blood" viewing party night?

Q&A: Career

I read somewhere that in the United States, the first question people ask each other upon meeting is, "So, what do you do?" Other places in the world, this question would be confusing. People don't know what it means. What do I do? I eat, I sleep, I go for walks, I read, I watch movies, I pet my cats. But, here, in our society, the question means, "How do you make money?" We're rather obsessed with it, in my opinion. Granted, money is nice. But, I don't want my job to define who I am. I want it to give me health benefits (since I'm uninsurable), and I want it to give me a paycheck, preferably bi-weekly, that will cover my basic expenses. I have to remind myself every now and then that life is too short to be unhappy, so if I find myself in a job I hate, I can find something else. There are all sorts of paths to take. I want to be fulfilled. A big part of my recovery is dependent on being engaged in life and finding satisfaction in life. Put simply, starving seems a hell of a lot less appealing if I'm doing something I enjoy. This brings me to two questions I received:

From Sam:
"What's your dream job?"

For all practical purposes, I would say I have my dream job right now. I work for an advertising agency whose main client is a huge health insurance company (which shall remain nameless because I'd like to keep my job). It's not that the work is that amazing, though it excites the organizer in me -- I write presentations and brochures and Web copy; but, my lifestyle with this job is perfect for my personality. Back in early February, they laid off everyone in the office except for me and a few others who work in different departments. This meant that I took on the writing responsibilities of 5 people, which is fine by me since I like to be busy and I was bored out of my skull before. Also, it meant that I get to work from home. I LOVE this situation. I wear pajamas all day sometimes. If my inbox is empty, I can run errands in the middle of the day. I can clean or do laundry, catch up on shows on my DVR, play with my cats. I have conference calls sometimes, but I don't have meetings. I don't have to wear nice business clothes or chit-chat with people I don't like. I know, I know, you hate me. I hate me, too.

The biggest benefit, which I don't always take advantage of, is that I can use downtime to work on my fiction writing, which is what I really, truly love. That, for me, is the fulfilling part of my "work" life. If we're talking about "dream jobs," my absolute ideal would be to have a literary career. I have an agent and one of my books is out in New York with publishers right now. It would be a dream to be published. I've written a number of books, but this is the first one with real potential, I think. If I was able to establish myself as a writer, I would hope to make a modest living from writing fiction. However, I love structure, so I'd want to work at a low-stress job to supplement my income (and get health benefits). Honestly, as silly as it sounds, the most fulfilling job I've had in my life (and I've had several) was working at an independent movie theater. I would not feel like a "loser" doing that again. Yes, Corporate America pays more, but Corporate America can also damage the soul.

The only hesitation I have about saying that writing books would be my dream job is that I think attaching income to my writing would taint it for me. I've always written "for fun." When I got my first agent several years ago, something shifted for me. I felt pressure. Since then, it's been a struggle to get back to writing for fun (which is why I say I don't always use my downtime to write). I imagine there is a bit of a burden that comes along with writing fiction for money. That's why I say that, for all practical purposes, my dream job is the one I have right now. I write about things like health savings accounts to earn income. And that's fine with me.

From Just Eat It:
"What is your inspiration for your writings (you've said things about the Japan novel and other short stories)?"

This is a hard question for me to answer. I hadn't really thought much about the methods of my madness until recently, when I was interviewed here by "The Writer's [Inner] Journey." When I was little, I just assumed everyone liked to fill notebooks with stories in their spare time. I was obsessed with creating characters. I drew pictures of the houses my characters lived in. I thought about the clothes they wore, the way they smiled, their hopes and dreams. It was, and still is, a world of fantasy for me, where anything is possible.

That said, I am usually inspired by storylines that are nothing like my life, but that remind me of myself in some way. The book that is out with publishers now is told from the perspective of a middle-aged man in a coma. Obviously nothing like me. Sometimes, I'm inspired by a weird news story. Sometimes, it's just a small detail I see in life. Like, at my last job, my boss was this intriguing guy who never seemed to have a relationship. One day, he came in with the size sticker still on his shirt and I almost cried because I realized he doesn't have anyone in his life to tell him he has a sticker on his shirt. I wrote a whole story about it. Every time though, it starts with one line I get in my head. The Japan book started with a line that came to me on a walk: "I have $26,782.33 to my name, according to Citibank records. When that is gone, I intend to die by way of laundy detergent." It's from a man's perspective again (I think someone needs to psychoanalyze this trend for me). At the time, I was starting Japanese classes because I was bored with freelancing and needed a class to give me structure. Somehow, the classes worked their way into the character's story and, before I knew it, it made sense for him to go to Japan. So, then I went to Japan.

What's weird about my writing is that it is nothing like the way I live my life. Many writers talk about discipline and having a schedule, but I believe in writing when a story demands to be written. I don’t know how to explain when this happens, but it does. I can go for months (even years) without putting much thought into writing something substantial, then I will work furiously for a short period of time. That’s just how I do it. I don’t use outlines very often. I usually start with one line – the opening line – and go from there. If I get stuck, I stop writing. The resolution usually comes to me in the shower, or in the middle of the night. I tell my therapist that I wish I could live my life the way I write -- don't force anything, let it take shape, trust that the answers will come. It's an interesting paradox for me.

My favorite writing quote, from Charles Baxter's Letters to A Fiction Writer:

"The young fiction writer -- you -- carries a burden of sorts. You are lugging something around that seems to be part of your being, or, as we would say now, is 'hard wired' into you, so much so that you have become its container, but the only way to express it -- almost literally, to bring it out -- is to write it. What 'it' is, in this case, is a piling-up of selves, of beings, and of stories that are experienced from the inside. What is it like to be you, to be me? You can't answer that question by answering it discursively. You can only answer it by telling a story. That's not therapy. You're not sick. Your'e just a certain kind of human being. It's exactly like the necessity a musician has in humming a tune or playing a piano, or the necessity an artist has in doodling and sketching and drawing and painting. It's almost involuntary. Something needs to get out: Not expressed, but extruded. As the composer Camille Saint-Saens remarked, 'I write music the way an apple tree produces apples.'"

If...or when...I get published, you guys will be among the first to know :)

***
Today's gratitude:
1. I had one of those fantastic nights of sleep last night.
2. I have gymnastics competitions on my DVR (and the national championships are this week)! My sister went very far in gymnastics. I stopped when I got too tall and too scared to do the hard stuff. I love to watch it though.
3. Did anyone see "True Blood" on Sunday? I watched it last night. Love it.
4. We're having great weather -- very mild for summer.
5. I flushed my Klonopin down the toilet (is that how one disposes of pills?). I haven't taken it in a long, long time and I keep hearing horror stories about it. I believe meds are good in certain situations, but I'm med-free now and I feel better than ever.

Q&A: Friends

Happy Monday :) Yes, I actually put "happy" and "Monday" together. I'm back to Q&A-ing. I got a couple questions about friendships that I wanted to answer.

From Sophia at BurpandSlurp:

"How did your friends treat you when you were in recovery/found out about your ED? How is your social life now?"

Good question! My eating disorder has definitely had a profound effect on my social life. When I was deep in it, I just didn't care about what my friends cared about -- parties, boys, FUN. I was in my own hell, obsessed with something that was completely perplexing to them. I developed my eating disorder when I was at the tail-end of high school, right before I went to college at the University of Notre Dame. In high school, I had a very tight group of friends. We spent hours on the phone every night, we had sleepovers, we shared everything. One of those friends put her hands around my thigh one day, somewhat innocently, and said, "You're so thin! Lucky!" I was totally healthy at that point, but something clicked in my head. I became obsessed with my thighs (then every other part of my body). I started counting calories, weighing -- you know the drill. When I went to college, I was restricting heavily. I kept in touch with my friends back home, but it was through email and letters. We were emotionally distant. When I had to drop out of Notre Dame, I came home. I told my group of friends the truth about what was going on and the response was mixed. One friend treated me like I was batshit crazy. Another friend cried and said she didn't understand how this could happen to someone like me. Several friends distanced themselves (which, to be honest, was perfectly fine with me at the time). Over the years, I've reconciled with some of those old friends, but lost touch with others. I've made new friends in college, grad school, at jobs. When I've been "in" my eating disorder though, I'm not a great friend. I keep people at arm's length (and I have oddly long arms, let me tell you). I've skipped out on parties, declined invitations, told white lies, made excuses -- usually because food was involved. It's pretty impossible to have real intimacy like this.

Now... I feel like my friendships are richer than ever. Mostly, I've matured. I realize who I want in my life and who is healthy for me. I'm happy having a few really close friends, who love me and support me, and who I love and support unconditionally. I don't need 20 people surrounding me at all times. I'm an introvert. I like my personal time and space. But, I truly value the few people I have in my life who I consider good friends. One lives in Denver now, but we're in touch pretty frequently (she is great with epic emails) and we meet up when she's in town (and I went out there late last year). I met an unexpectedly wonderful friend through this blog. She lives right up the street from me, strangely enough. One of the friends from the high school crowd is still one of my closest friends. She still lives where I grew up and we have dinner or a "sleepover" about once a month or so. I have brunch and movie dates with a friend I've known since sixth grade. I'm quite close to another elementary school friend, though we keep it to email since she now lives in Albany, NY. I reunited with an old friend recently and we've been getting back into our old groove of sarcastic banter. She moves all over the place, as an engineer for FEMA. I have a close friend who I met in treatment back in 2001. And, as weird as it sounds, my estranged husband (I'm still trying out terms for him, poor guy) is my very best friend. In short, I'm lucky. I rarely feel alone in the world. But, I used to. I've had to open myself up quite a bit, be vulnerable, risk people thinking I'm a weirdo. Turns out they don't think I'm a weirdo, or they say they don't. I'm fine with them lying to my face in this instance ;)

What's strange about my social life is that I don't have a core group of friends. I always fantasized about this, a la "Sex in the City." My friends come from all different phases of my life. They live in different places. They don't know each other. But, they all offer something unique and special to me. They all know about my eating disorder and there is no judgment of it. They accept and love me. They know me well enough to see that it's not some silly vanity issue. I mean, I'm neurotic. It's obvious. Trust me.

From Ruth Rogers:

"My friend has an ed and has been in and out of treatment. What is the best way that I can help as a friend?"

This is a really tough question. I have to say that it's very hard to be a friend with someone who is deeply, deeply entrenched in an eating disorder. I was a selfish bitch during the worst of my illness. I didn't care at all about my friends. All I cared about was my food. If your friend is at this stage of her illness, all you can really do is tell her you love her and you want her to be healthy and happy. Tell her that you think she deserves a full and wonderful life. You can mention blogs or inspirational books that you come across (but, I would recommend not getting too emotionally attached to the idea of her taking you up on your offers). You can't make her better. All you can do is remind her of why it's worth it to be better. If she's at the stage of wanting this out of her life, but having difficulty, it's much easier to be supportive. Once I was ready to get help, I was open to advice and suggestions. I read every book written about anorexia. If your friend is willing, you can ask her how she feels about sharing a meal with you once a week. Make it clear that you don't judge her. Let her know she's safe with you (i.e. you're not going to shove Ding-Dongs down her throat...seriously, we fear things like this). Aside from that, I would say that being a good example is inspiring. I was always so relieved to be around friends who ate healthfully. It showed me that it was possible. Nothing made my anorexia demon more annoyed than seeing someone enjoy french fries. It was like that person was saying, "See? It's not the end of the universe to eat fried food." Granted, just because you eat well doesn't mean your friend will. But, it's still encouraging. As a friend, I think you're already doing the most you can do, by asking questions and finding out more about eating disorders. That's more than most people do. There are so many misconceptions about eating disorders and the majority of people just assume those are reality and shake their heads in disbelief at their trying-to-be-thin loved one. You are educating yourself and that's really great. Your friend is lucky to have you.

I'll have another post in the Q&A series soon :)

***

Today's gratitude:

1. I went indoor "rock" climbing yesterday! It was so much fun. I was called a "spider monkey" and I think this is a compliment.

2. I spent time with these guys:

3. My laptop is not dead...yet. I had a moment of absolute terror on Saturday when my laptop did not turn on. But, you should be proud -- my first thoughts were of the optimistic, "how-can-I-resolve-this?" variety, instead of the "I'm-going-to-shoot-myself" variety. After all, I JUST backed up my important files last week. What timing! Anyway, it's working...for now.

4. I have shows waiting for me on DVR tonight. I don't want to love television, but I really do.

5. I'm starting to review my Japanese. Class starts August 25th. Yikes. I'm rusty.

Q&A: Family

I got a couple questions about family and I figured the topic deserved a post all by itself. My mom is cringing right now. Hi, Mom! Yes, she reads my blog. Maybe she’ll want to do a guest post on this topic. Hint, hint.

From Amy's email:
“In the nature vs. nurture debate, how do you think your ‘nurture’ played a part in your ED? How was your family growing up?”

I’ll start by saying that I see much of my eating disorder as “nature.” I think I was born a bit of an anxious person (or maybe more than “a bit”). That, to me, is a huge predisposition for an eating disorder. Where the “nurture” comes in is that I don’t think I learned how to properly contain my anxiety. In my family, I feel like I was a little bit of the “weird one.” My dad often said I was “too sensitive” (and I still don’t know what that means). My parents are both physical therapists. They’re pretty practical. I never heard them raise their voices to each other. I never saw them cry uncontrollably. When I got emotional, my assumption was that I was supposed to appear in control. They never seemed that rattled by anything, so I emulated that (or tried to). From our families, I think we come to an understanding of what’s normal, what emotions are “appropriate,” how to respond to life events. If I freaked out about something, the response was usually, “Kim, don’t worry about that.” But, I already WAS worrying about it. So, then I felt stupid about worrying about it and decided to try to contain my worry and anxiety myself. Bad move. I kept so much inside, got so “full,” that I started eating less. I’m almost 30 years old and I feel like I’m just now learning to contain my anxiety in a healthy way. I’m learning to just feel what I feel and not try to deny it. I am who I am. I feel some shame that I’m so emotional. I still feel like it’s “better” to be less emotional. But, I’m accepting myself, mostly. Eventually, I hope I learn to love the fact that I’m emotional. I scream, I shout, I cry, I feel things very deeply. It's what makes me a good writer. My mood is not always the same from one day to the next, but when I stop fighting the swings, the swings seem to get less drastic.

From Sarah at Bearing, Eating, Being:
“What is your family’s reaction to, well, everything? ED, your initial decision to marry, and divorce? What does your sister think?”

I really do think my mom should do a guest post. MOM!?

Here’s how I imagine the progression of parental thoughts with my ED:

The beginning (age 18-ish):
-I wonder why Kim is losing so much weight at Notre Dame.
-Oh shit, Kim passed out at Notre Dame.
-I think something must be wrong with Kim.
-Kim seems to have all the symptoms of anorexia.
-Oh shit, Kim seems to have all the symptoms of anorexia.
-Kim has to come home.
-She’s home. She's not eating. Now what?

The hell (age 19-21):
-Ok, this therapy thing isn’t doing much.
-Ok, these meds aren’t doing much.
-Why the hell won’t she eat? Did we do something wrong?
-Is she going to die?

Post-treatment (age 21-23):
-Phew.
-Is she better?
-Will she stay better?
-She seems happy and normal.
-Phew.

Reality (age 24-27):
-Ok, when life is stressful, she seems to lose a little weight.
-She’s stable, though.
-Maybe this is something she’ll always deal with, on some level.
-Is she healthy enough?

Now (age 29):
-We love her as she is, and that’s all we can do.

I have seen my parents go through so many emotions with my anorexia: Confusion, sadness, anger, frustration, to name a few. I think they still worry. I think they tried for a long time to "get" it and we decided sometime in the last few years that there's nothing to really "get." We’ve talked about the reasons and motivations for my illness, to find some secret answer. The real answer was to stop searching for some secret answer. I've come to the conclusion that this is a biological illness, so making “sense” of it is not possible. My Dad really likes “sense” though. He could talk for hours about the “whys” of my anorexia, bless his heart.

I wonder if it’s hard for my parents to fully trust me to make healthy decisions – when it comes to food, and other things. MOM?! She never comments. Ha. Anyway, with my marriage and divorce, for example, I think they worry. I think they worried when I said I was getting married. I think they worried when I said I was getting divorced. They are aware that there is a “healthy” Kim and an “anorexic” Kim and, often, they probably wonder which Kim is prominent. I wonder that too, to be honest. I’ve always said that anorexia is not just about food. It affects my entire life. It affects how I live, how I love. I spent so long denying a basic instinct (hunger). Now, I don’t deny it, but I still overthink it and analyze it. I envy those people who just FEEL it. I could say that about many decisions. It’s not just the question, “What do I eat?” that I tease apart. It’s, “What do I wear?” “Who do I love?” “How much do I spend?” It’s everything. And my parents know that, I think. But, I feel like they’ve let go a lot. They’ve said, “It’s your life,” for better or worse. They support me, always, and I’m so grateful for that. Even though I don’t think my choices always make “sense” to them, I think we’re both okay with that at this point.

As for my sister, that’s another can of worms. I’ve opened it here before. I love my sister, deeply. I think sister relationships are inevitably complex. Growing up, I was the “good” kid. I got straight A’s. I was quiet and compliant. My sister was loud and obnoxious. It seems like she was always on "time-out" at home. She got in trouble in 4th grade for using a curse word referencing her teacher. She pulled down my pants in the middle of a department store. We did not get along. I think my eating disorder was a bit of a relief to her. It was me “messing up.” I don’t know if she’d ever say that; it’s just something I sense. That initial relief passed though. She hated my eating disorder. It annoyed her to no end. She still has no patience for it. And, I’ve had it in my head that she has no patience for me, in general. When I decided to get married, I thought she criticized the way I did it. When I decided to get divorced, I imagined her rolling her eyes at me. But, then, she came down to visit me and support me, and she left post-its all over my condo saying things like, “Sisters are foreva” and “Hang in there” (I saved them). That’s my sister for you. We love each other like no two people can love each other. There has been some rivalry along the way, but it’s all part of a big, complicated love.

Thanks, again, for all the questions! I'm having so much fun with them :)

***

Today's gratitude:

1. I'm going to see the "Julie & Julia" movie tonight!

2. I'm enrolling in Japanese class today.

3. I think I'm going indoor rock climbing on Sunday for my almost-ex-sister-in-law's birthday. Don't try to understand. Ha.

4. It's payday!

5. My cat is being so adorable right now.

Q&A: Recovery

I've received some great questions from all of you about everything from my clothing style to my experience in treatment to my writing. Thank you, thank you! I'll be answering them over the next several days. I wanted to start with the recovery-related questions.

From Just Eat It!:
"You mentioned that you had been in treatment before. What was your experience with that like? Did you find it helpful?"
I was in treatment at Monte Nido in 2001. Literally, the day after I graduated from college at UC San Diego (that's where I did my undergrad), I packed up and went to treatment, leaving my poor parents to deal with all my loose ends in San Diego. I was really sick of my eating disorder and didn't feel capable of recovery in an outpatient setting. I'd been in therapy for a few years at that point, with no real, sustained progress.

For me, treatment was good in the short-term. I had a healthy, encouraging atmosphere. Meals were planned, known. I picked my breakfasts and snacks the night before I had them. There was therapy all day (groups, one-on-one, etc). The nutritionist was great. I was more than willing so I wasn't hiding food in napkins or trying to come up with ways to trick the staff. Some of the women were like that. Of course, given the environment, I gained weight. With the weight gain, I got my period back. My anxiety decreased significantly. I felt less intensity around food. I went to the step-down facility, where I was pretty much free to come and go as I pleased, though there was still some structure. Then, after a few months, I was back home and started grad school at USC. I kept up with outpatient therapy. Things went really well for the first year, I'd say. I met a guy. I felt "normal." When I broke up with him, I slipped a bit. Over the next few years, I lost about 15 of the 30 pounds I'd gained. It was very, very gradual. I never went back to the all-out starving I did before treatment, so that's good. But, I've struggled to feed myself what I need on a consistent basis. I still have about 10 pounds to gain back (though I wouldn't be opposed to gaining 20!).

So, in sum, I would say that treatment was helpful in that it showed me what's possible. I gained, I felt good about food. I remember eating M&Ms and thinking, "Wow, this is not a big deal at all." But, treatment is a very unique atmosphere and I don't think it's possible to fully recreate it in the "real world." I've had to learn that on my own. I'm not surrounded by supportive therapists all the time. I don't have someone watching what I eat. It's more up to me now.

From BurpandSlurp:
"Do you still have some fear foods?"
I don't think I have fear foods anymore, but I do fear the unknown, in general. For example, if know there will be cake at an event, I'll be a little nervous about it, but I'll prepare for it mentally and I'll eat it. I'll feel okay about it. However, if I go to someone's house and a spontaneous piece of cake is offered to me, I freak out (inside, of course. I have this annoying ability to look perfectly calm on the outside). I'm working on being more "in the moment" with food so that it doesn't have to be so predictable and planned. That's most of my "work" right now. I pretty much eat all full-fat foods at this point -- no diet or light. I would say that I'm also working on letting go of this "healthy" mandate for what I eat. I've gotten a bit caught up in the current craze surrounding "all natural" foods. I'd rather eat Breyer's ice cream than frozen yogurt with all the chemicals, for example. That's good in a way, but I'm trying to see food as just food. I don't have to eat "perfectly." The chemicals or preservatives or whatever won't kill me. For me, any restrictions on food, even in the name of "health" are not good. I'm too obsessive.

From Lola Snow:
"Have you had any defining recovery moments?" (Sophia also asked a similar question: "Do you recall a single moment when you realized you wanted recovery from anorexia?")
Hm, this is a tough question. I feel like I've had about a billion moments when I realize I want recovery from anorexia, but no single one of them has made me choose recovery. I guess I feel like recovery has been so gradual for me. I have good days and bad days. I have moments of wanting the disorder, and moments when I want complete freedom. Sometimes, it's something simple, like an article about osteoporosis, that encourages me. Sometimes, it's vanity, like wanting to fill out my jeans and have a booty. I do remember this one moment that stands out to me. It was several years ago. I was in this phase of eating this burrito from Whole Foods for dinner. Like I said, I'm obsessive. I had it in my lap as I was driving home. It fell. In my efforts to "rescue" my sacred dinner, I almost crashed into another car. I remember thinking, "Kim, this eating thing is dominating your entire life." So, that's a moment. I've also had moments when in relationships. I realize that I can't really be with someone if I'm in my eating disorder. My anorexia makes me restrictive in so many ways. I force my relationships to be controlled just like I force my food. I want to love and be loved, fully, and anorexia does not allow for that. There are moments when I've said "no" to social invitations because of food and those have made me sad enough to want to get out of this.

From Sarah at My Fairytale:
"What keeps you going in the really tough moments? What is it that gives you hope?"
Honestly, the only thing that keeps me going in the really tough moments is what past experience has told me: it will get better. I've noticed over the years that my hard times have gone from being months long to weeks long to days long. If I have a bad day now, it's usually just that day. I usually feel better by the next morning. I know I am very sensitive and I overthink myself into unhappiness sometimes. What gives me hope is knowing that it's just life, and it doesn't have to be taken that seriously. Sometimes, just thinking about a movie I want to see, or a book I want to read gives me hope for the future. I try to latch onto the small things because, for me, the big stuff can be too overwhelming.

"How long have you been in recovery?"
I'm still not sure what "in recovery" means. I guess it means not actively engaging in destructive behaviors. I would say I've been in recovery since I left treatment in 2001. Treatment was when I decided, "Ok, this is a problem. I need to work on this." I've been working on it since. My eating has gotten freer gradually. I can go out to eat now, without problem. I need a ton of calories still, and I don't know if that will ever change. It's hard for me to put on weight. I know I still need to gain. My attitude is much better though. My life is more open. At my treatment center, the director strongly believed in reaching a point of saying, "I'm recovered." I don't know if I'll ever say that. Maybe I just haven't gotten there yet. I feel very humble to anorexia. It's a bitch.

"Do you ever get serious anxiety when it comes to eating? How do you work through that?"
Yes, I do get serious anxiety, usually in food situations that don't go according to what I had in my mind (i.e. the chicken is fried and not baked). I try to think of the show "Obsessed" on A&E. If you haven't seen it, I strongly recommend it. They work with people who have OCD, helping them face their anxiety by exposing them to what they fear most. When I have a difficult eating situation, I think of it as an exposure. What I've realized is that I'm a lot like the people with OCD on the show. Leading up to the "exposure" (i.e. when the fried chicken is given to me), I have a ton of anxiety. A TON! I make myself do it and, slowly, the anxiety comes down. By the time it's over (meaning the fried chicken is in my belly), I realize that the sky has not fallen. I actually gain some confidence and feel empowered. I remember this happening when I first tried pizza after abstaining for years. It was in treatment, while on a dinner outing. I had SO MUCH anxiety about it. But, I did it. Now, I can honestly say that pizza is one of my favorite foods. I feel almost no anxiety about it.


Thanks, again, guys! Keep the questions coming. I have some great upcoming answers about family, friends, adventures (!), and much more :) Stay tuned!

***
Today's gratitude:

1. Yesterday is over. Yesterday was not a good day. First, I did not feel well. Sore throat, exhaustion, etc. Then my work computer decided to not function. I was back and forth to the office to resolve the issue 3 times. I had to cancel therapy. I wasted 4 hours of work time trying to fix the computer. Once it was fixed, I had 3 emergency assignments in my inbox. I was up late, working. I had to cancel plans with my friend. It was not a good day. But, it's over. I feel much better today.

2. The air conditioner. I'm very cheap (although now I like to say I'm just "living green"), so I don't like to use the AC. But, seriously, it's hot. And I like to be comfortable.

3. "The Hour I First Believed" by Wally Lamb. This has been my bedtime companion as of late. It starts off slow, but it's so touching and powerful.

4. A recruiter called me today about a job opportunity. I'm pretty happy (aka spoiled) with my working-from-home gig right now, but it's nice to know there are things out there.

5. I think I'm going to take Japanese classes again. My registration time is tomorrow. I have no practical reason for this, but I love learning languages.

Ask away!

I'm copying Sarah at Bearing, Eating, Being (one of my favorites!) and doing a Q&A. I can't really think of a question I would not answer (aside from stalker-ish inquiries like, "What's your street address and what time are you usually wearing pajamas?"). So, if you have any questions about eating disorder stuff, or just regular life stuff, send 'em my way. You can post a comment here, or send me an email (it's on my profile page).

***
Today's gratitude:
1. I'm feeling a bit under the weather. I realize this isn't something most people are grateful for, but I try to look at it as an opportunity to take it easy, give my body some extra love. And I'm always so happy when I feel better!
2. Frosty, Heidi and Frank (my favorite radio show ever -- they got canceled several months ago) announced that they'll be doing daily podcasts!
3. I just backed up all the files on my laptop. You have no idea what peace of mind this gives me. Or, maybe you do :)
4. I have therapy today! I feel very blah due to my under-the-weather-ness, but sometimes that's good when I talk to her. Without my frenzied therapy agenda, we usually do more real "work."
5. I think I'm getting together with a friend tonight, provided I don't end up on the couch in a Nyquil coma. I haven't seen her in a while so there is much catching up to do (and "Entourage" on DVR to watch).

If I had a daughter with anorexia...

Someone asked me the other day what I would do if I had a daughter with anorexia. The question was prefaced with, "Because you know so much about treatment and recovery..." Do I? Honestly, I think the most I know about treatment and recovery is that it's pretty essential to eat and it's pretty essential to stay humble to the disease. That's about it.

So, what would I do if my daugher had anorexia? Well, on a sidenote, I'm not sure I'll ever have a daugther (or a son, for that matter). As I said in my last post, I've been thinking more than ever about having a family, but I mean that in a soul-searching sort of way. When I really think about it, I don't envision motherhood for myself. Stumbling upon this article may have reinforced some things. Anyway, if I did have a daughter who developed an eating disorder, I don't think my history would give me any comfort. In fact, my history would probably scare the shit out of me. Yes, I know a lot about eating disorders, but I also know that I was a runaway train for a while, intent on wrecking. There wasn't anything a therapist or nutritionist or friend or family member or omnipotent being could say to me to get me to "snap out of it." It's been more than a decade since I was diagnosed with anorexia, and when I look back, I realize how much I kind of had to figure out for myself. That said, I've also read quite a bit about the Maudsley method and I think it's pretty promising. By the time I developed anorexia, I was in college and there was this tension about how much my family was "supposed" to be involved with my eating. I don't remember one therapist mentioning the Maudsley method. The general consensus was that I needed to feel in control and they should let me buy fat free Eggo waffles and whatever else I would agree to eat. Probably a bad idea. I really did best, eating-wise, in treatment. It was a family atmosphere and I was basically told what to eat. Of course, learning to feed myself on my own in the real world was...interesting. I'm still learning.

All that said, if I had a daughter, I think the main thing would be to tell her I love her, exactly as she is. Maybe that sounds weird. Most parents probably feel like there should be a "but" in there, i.e. "I love you so much, but you need to gain weight." For me, personally, what's helped the most is to have people say they love me exactly as I am. That has actually freed me up to gain weight. When I feel this pressure on it, when I feel like it's a condition of love, I won't do it (or not for any length of time). During the worst of my anorexia, I did not really want to exist. The world seemed completely terrifying to me. Food was therapeutic, yes, but so was hearing, "I love you" and "Things will be ok."

***
Today's gratitude:

1. I'm going to a restaurant I've been wanting to try and to see "(500) Days of Summer" (it was sold out last weekend) with a girlfriend tonight :)

2. I had an excellent weekend. There was a hike/glorified walk involved, a visit to the Panini Cafe (another place I'd been wanting to try for a while), and the "True Blood" viewing party. And that was just yesterday.

3. I have all sorts of writing ideas. I want to get back to working on my novel about Japan (I was inspired by re-watching "Lost in Translation"). And I have an idea for a TV spec script.

4. "Flight of the Conchords" (Season 2) comes out tomorrow. Yay.

5. I'm still not feeling much anxiety about anything :)