How do you refer to this new year? "Two thousand and ten"? "0 ten"? I've heard both of these. I like "twenty ten." In any case, Happy New Year!
I've read all these great blog posts with comprehensive reflections on the past year and decade. I am one to worry so much about what tomorrow brings that I have hardly any mental energy left to look back on yesterday. I've written thousands of pages in my journal this past decade, but I've never gone back to read any entries. I don't know if it's that I have an easy time moving on (clearly, my struggles with anorexia would suggest otherwise); I think it's just that I'm an antsy person and I tend to look ahead rather than back. My mind is often stuck on wondering what's next.
That said, I acknowledge that 2009 was a big one for me. I got married and went on the most amazing trip of my life in Japan. Then I proceeded to freak out and split with my husband for a few months. Neither of us regret one thing about that period of time. We are closer than we ever were. It's just different, all for the better. We got two cat-children that we love so much it's sick. I got laid off, then got a full-time position with Larry's company. Got a new car. Finished writing a new book tentatively called "Cherry Blossoms" (just waiting for my agent to sell the previous one ;)). Saw one of my best friends and my sister get married. Turned 30. Went vegetarian. And a bunch of other random feats, including indoor "rock" climbing, the discovery of DVR (this was a big one for me), psychic readings by my massage therapist, and the cessation of my "exercise routine" (recently).
Phew.
I have to say that 2009 was tumultuous. It was a lot of change and growing pains. I'm looking forward to some peace and quiet in 2010. I told Larry that my one real resolution is to get better at ignoring the "shoulds." He said, "So, you're resolving not to resolve." I guess that's true. I could use a few less goals, a few less have to's in my life. I'd just like to let go a bit more, find out what I enjoy, feel confident in what I want. Easy, right? Not so much, which is why I plan to stick with therapy.
It's about 11 o' clock here on the West coast. Larry and I are on our respective computers, because we're nerdy like that. We just got back from Vegas, which reminds me of another resolution (for 2010 and beyond): Do not go to Las Vegas. We don't drink or gamble, and I feel way too old for the clubs now. We don't like crowds or smoking in indoor spaces (I forget that California is unique in its laws). The Black Eyed Peas concert was GREAT, and we really enjoyed Lion King. I like road trips too, so just driving and talking and listening to talk radio was fun. I had a few of my "moments," but I'm too tired to detail them. One involved me bitching about the price of a cab ride and feeling like my stingy grandmother (I call this "financial anorexia"). Moving on... I was just very happy to come home to my routine. Does anyone else get strangely excited to just be home?
Happy New Year, once again! Here's to good things in twenty ten :)
***
Today's gratitude:
1. Got home safe from Vegas.
2. Got the car washed, went to Target, did the grocery shopping.
3. The kitties were just fine without us. I worried, of course, but the little monsters acted like they didn't even know we were gone.
4. My friend-of-15-years is in town tomorrow so I get to see her.
5. There is still a whole weekend ahead to enjoy before work on Monday!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Recipe of the week: Oatmeal cookies :)
I think it goes without saying that I'm not 100% at peace with cookies. I see Larry pop them into his mouth -- 1, 2, 3 -- without thought, while I break mine into small pieces, taking slow sips of milk in between each bite. I think about the sugar, the fat, how I could have had a Luna bar or something "healthy" instead. But, BUT, I still eat the cookies. This is good.
For Christmas, we went out to visit Larry's mom, step dad, and brother in Palm Desert. We stopped by to visit his grandpa on our way home. My grandpas both died when I was really young so I have no memory of them. That's always made me a little sad, so it's nice to have Larry's grandpa in our lives. Anyway, we headed home after that, having had our fill of family time. The only plan for the rest of the day: Bake cookies, make a lasagna, watch a movie, hang with the kitties. It felt sort of perfect for our first Christmas as married people.
What you need:
Combine flour, oats, baking soda, cinnamon and salt in a bowl.
Beat butter, brown sugar and granulated sugar in a separate, large bowl.
Add flour mixture and mix.
Enjoy :)
I hope everyone had a great Christmas!
For Christmas, we went out to visit Larry's mom, step dad, and brother in Palm Desert. We stopped by to visit his grandpa on our way home. My grandpas both died when I was really young so I have no memory of them. That's always made me a little sad, so it's nice to have Larry's grandpa in our lives. Anyway, we headed home after that, having had our fill of family time. The only plan for the rest of the day: Bake cookies, make a lasagna, watch a movie, hang with the kitties. It felt sort of perfect for our first Christmas as married people.
I made chocolate chip cookies with a somewhat unoriginal, standard recipe. They're delicious (and quickly disappearing), but I'm most proud of the oatmeal cookies. I love, love, love oatmeal cookies. I had a can of pumpkin in the cabinet (purchased during one random shopping trip when I thought, "Bloggers say pumpkin is good...maybe I should try it." Turns out, I think pumpkin is rather bland, but I still kept a can on hand). I thought I'd try to make oatmeal pumpkin cookies...and throw in some raisins and dried cranberries for good measure. They came out so good -- kind of a moist, cake-like.
What you need:
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/3 cups quick oats1 tsp baking soda
1-2 tsp cinnamon (I love cinnamon, so I was sort of liberal with this)1/2 tsp salt
1 cup butter or margarine, softened (I used butter...still not sure what the difference is between butter and margarine... I feel like this makes me a bad anorexic...haha)1 cup packed brown sugar
1 cup granulated sugar1 cup canned pumpkin
1 egg1 tsp vanilla extract
3/4 cup raisins1/2 cup dried cranberries
What you do:
Set the oven for 350.
Beat butter, brown sugar and granulated sugar in a separate, large bowl.
Add pumpkin, egg and vanilla extract; mix everything.
Add flour mixture and mix.
Stir in raisins and cranberries.
Drop by rounded tablespoons onto greased baking sheets. I made 24 cookies. They came out big.
Bake about 15 minutes. Cool on baking sheets for a couple minutes, then move to wire racks.
Enjoy :)
I hope everyone had a great Christmas!
***
Today's gratitude:1. Had a good therapy session today. It's still kind of in that getting-to-know-you phase since he hasn't worked with just me before. I think it's going to be a good fit though.
2. My family is throwing my grandma her 80th birthday party tomorrow. It'll be a good chance to see everyone. I'm told an Elvis impersonator will be showing up.
3. I continue to do a good job at being lazy.
4. We leave for Vegas on Tuesday! We both feel a tiny bit under the weather. I'm hoping it passes.
5. Womanhood. Every 28 days. Like clockwork. It continues to baffle me how forgiving the body is.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
On the eve of Christmas
Confession: I'm a heathen. I wasn't raised with any particular religion. My parents are both very science-minded people who weren't raised with any religion themselves. It's a long line of heathens with us :) My parents took us to Christmas Eve service for a few years, but it seemed like more of an appetizer-activity, the precursor to the Christmas Eve dinner and the traditional opening-of-one-gift-the-night-before-Christmas. We watched "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation" and drank hot chocolate out of snowman mugs too. I remember the singing in Church, how it gave me goosebumps. I remember the "peace be with you; and also with you" exchange, the hugs with strangers, the warmth in the room. I liked it, but I didn't feel any connection to Christianity itself. And apart from Christmas time, I didn't think about going to Church.
That changed a bit when I was diagnosed with anorexia. After I came home from college, I remember how I started to ride my bike to the Church down the street for services. I wanted God to tell me how to be happy and healthy again. What turned me off was one sermon, just one, right before Christmas. This was during a particularly bad California drought and rain was in the forecast. The pastor asked us to pray that it wouldn't rain on the Christmas manger scene they'd set up outside. I never went back to Church after that. I thought the thirsty hillsides were a bit more important than the plastic Bible figures, and that was that.
Still, even though I don't feel connected to the religious meaning of Christmas, it's taken on different meanings for me over the years. As a kid, it was all about the gifts, of course. As an adult, this is far from a priority. I like the reprieve, the rest from work, the chance to visit with family and friends. To me, Christmas is a time for quiet reflection. I still like to bake cookies or watch Christmas movies, but I mostly like the quiet. There is this sense of craziness and urgency leading up to the day. That is obvious if you go anywhere near a Target in the month of December. But, on Christmas Day, everything is quiet. Stores are closed and the world just seems to slow down for a bit. That's what I like about Christmas.
Sadly, for the better (or worse) part of a decade, worrying about food was the central part of the holiday for me. I remember what a production it was for me in the very beginning of my illness. I remember how my parents had to basically hold my hand as we went to my Aunt and Uncle's house, with a cooler containing my "safe food." This seems so weird to me now.
Now, when there's a holiday meal, I think about what food will be served, probably more than a "normal" person would, but I don't really stress out about it as much anymore. I'm able to see it as just one meal and, even if it's not my ideal meal, I try to get through it. Of course, "getting through it" is kind of a shitty end goal, if you ask me. I'd like to enjoy it, at least a little bit. And I admit that I'm still not great at enjoying meals that I didn't make or choose. I can always find something "wrong" or rule-breaking about those meals. Sometimes, it's just a taste issue. I genuinely dislike Thanksgiving food, for example. I've never had any desire to partake in green beans, stuffing, gravy, or cranberry sauce. But, other times, I know it's not just a taste issue.
We're going to Larry's mom's house for a Christmas breakfast. Two of my least favorite food words were mentioned -- casserole and Bisquick. I've never been much of a casserole person. My sister doesn't like food "all mashed together" and I'm a bit this way as well. I also don't like boxed mixes of anything. I realize this is probably some kind of restrictive thing. My eating disorder has definitely evolved over the years. I'm not really sure what it is now. It doesn't feel like anorexia as much as it feels like OCD or orthorexia or something along those lines. Whatever it is, I don't feel like I'm as relaxed about food as I was pre-anorexia. Pre-anorexia, I was picky, but I wasn't uneasy around food. I knew what I liked, ate that, and didn't think much of it. My sister is still this way. She's picky, but she doesn't have it in her head that it's any sort of problem, so there's no mental energy about it. She just throws a couple rolls with butter on her plate and shrugs off her dislike of everything else. Food's been so loaded for me that I've sort of lost track of what's acceptable in terms of having "preferences"; and, more importantly, I've lost track of if they're truly preferences, or part of some rule system in my head. In any case, I don't lose sleep in anticipation of holiday meals anymore. I try to make the best of it (and I'm a big fan of having snacks in my purse).
What foods make you anxious this time of year? What foods do you truly dislike? What foods can you say you really enjoy?
I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, enjoying it in whatever way is meaningful for you.
***
Today's gratitude:
1. Last day of work for the decade!
2. Holiday break: See Larry's family, see my family, celebrate my grandma's 80th birthday, go to therapy, see my friend before she moves to France (!) for a year, Vegas (Black Eyed Peas! Lion King!), catch up with my friend-of-15-years while she's in town, watch movies, sleep, take walks, bake, find a new yoga podcast, write a little if I'm so inclined, read. I can't wait!
3. We've been letting the cats in to sleep with us since one of them has been persistently clawing at the door at ungodly hours. The first night, they tried to sit on our faces and purr, but they've been good the last couple nights. I'm so happy to sleep well!
4. Remember the co-worker's wife I met at the office party? Well, I sent her an email to see if she wanted to get together sometime. She said yes :)
5. I've been really good about giving my body a break lately. It's hard to find any support for NOT exercising in the blogosphere. In fact, I'd say there is this emphasis on overexercising on some of the "health" blogs. I'm getting over my laziness complex though.
That changed a bit when I was diagnosed with anorexia. After I came home from college, I remember how I started to ride my bike to the Church down the street for services. I wanted God to tell me how to be happy and healthy again. What turned me off was one sermon, just one, right before Christmas. This was during a particularly bad California drought and rain was in the forecast. The pastor asked us to pray that it wouldn't rain on the Christmas manger scene they'd set up outside. I never went back to Church after that. I thought the thirsty hillsides were a bit more important than the plastic Bible figures, and that was that.
Still, even though I don't feel connected to the religious meaning of Christmas, it's taken on different meanings for me over the years. As a kid, it was all about the gifts, of course. As an adult, this is far from a priority. I like the reprieve, the rest from work, the chance to visit with family and friends. To me, Christmas is a time for quiet reflection. I still like to bake cookies or watch Christmas movies, but I mostly like the quiet. There is this sense of craziness and urgency leading up to the day. That is obvious if you go anywhere near a Target in the month of December. But, on Christmas Day, everything is quiet. Stores are closed and the world just seems to slow down for a bit. That's what I like about Christmas.
Sadly, for the better (or worse) part of a decade, worrying about food was the central part of the holiday for me. I remember what a production it was for me in the very beginning of my illness. I remember how my parents had to basically hold my hand as we went to my Aunt and Uncle's house, with a cooler containing my "safe food." This seems so weird to me now.
Now, when there's a holiday meal, I think about what food will be served, probably more than a "normal" person would, but I don't really stress out about it as much anymore. I'm able to see it as just one meal and, even if it's not my ideal meal, I try to get through it. Of course, "getting through it" is kind of a shitty end goal, if you ask me. I'd like to enjoy it, at least a little bit. And I admit that I'm still not great at enjoying meals that I didn't make or choose. I can always find something "wrong" or rule-breaking about those meals. Sometimes, it's just a taste issue. I genuinely dislike Thanksgiving food, for example. I've never had any desire to partake in green beans, stuffing, gravy, or cranberry sauce. But, other times, I know it's not just a taste issue.
We're going to Larry's mom's house for a Christmas breakfast. Two of my least favorite food words were mentioned -- casserole and Bisquick. I've never been much of a casserole person. My sister doesn't like food "all mashed together" and I'm a bit this way as well. I also don't like boxed mixes of anything. I realize this is probably some kind of restrictive thing. My eating disorder has definitely evolved over the years. I'm not really sure what it is now. It doesn't feel like anorexia as much as it feels like OCD or orthorexia or something along those lines. Whatever it is, I don't feel like I'm as relaxed about food as I was pre-anorexia. Pre-anorexia, I was picky, but I wasn't uneasy around food. I knew what I liked, ate that, and didn't think much of it. My sister is still this way. She's picky, but she doesn't have it in her head that it's any sort of problem, so there's no mental energy about it. She just throws a couple rolls with butter on her plate and shrugs off her dislike of everything else. Food's been so loaded for me that I've sort of lost track of what's acceptable in terms of having "preferences"; and, more importantly, I've lost track of if they're truly preferences, or part of some rule system in my head. In any case, I don't lose sleep in anticipation of holiday meals anymore. I try to make the best of it (and I'm a big fan of having snacks in my purse).
What foods make you anxious this time of year? What foods do you truly dislike? What foods can you say you really enjoy?
I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, enjoying it in whatever way is meaningful for you.
***
Today's gratitude:
1. Last day of work for the decade!
2. Holiday break: See Larry's family, see my family, celebrate my grandma's 80th birthday, go to therapy, see my friend before she moves to France (!) for a year, Vegas (Black Eyed Peas! Lion King!), catch up with my friend-of-15-years while she's in town, watch movies, sleep, take walks, bake, find a new yoga podcast, write a little if I'm so inclined, read. I can't wait!
3. We've been letting the cats in to sleep with us since one of them has been persistently clawing at the door at ungodly hours. The first night, they tried to sit on our faces and purr, but they've been good the last couple nights. I'm so happy to sleep well!
4. Remember the co-worker's wife I met at the office party? Well, I sent her an email to see if she wanted to get together sometime. She said yes :)
5. I've been really good about giving my body a break lately. It's hard to find any support for NOT exercising in the blogosphere. In fact, I'd say there is this emphasis on overexercising on some of the "health" blogs. I'm getting over my laziness complex though.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Back to good
I admit I have not been in good spirits for a couple weeks, but I seem to have done a 180. I'm back to thinking life ain't so bad, and wondering why/how I was so down. It seems like my down-ness is really related to worrying about what others think of me -- family, friends, co-workers, etc. It's some kind of self-imposed pressure. When I free myself from it, or just see that it's silly, my bad mood seems to disappear as fast as it appeared.
Our company holiday party was on Friday. I wasn't really looking forward to this, as most social events bring stress for me. It was at our boss's house, which was beautiful by HGTV (and my) standards. Within ten minutes, I remembered that, yes, I do know how to do this, "this" being "socialize with human beings." I don't know why I get so hard on myself. I'm actually a good conversationalist (and this is without booze involved). I talked to one of our co-worker's wives for a long time and found myself thinking, "If this chick wanted to do lunch, I'd totally go," which is sort of a big deal for me. When the dinner line started, I wasn't even nervous. I had some salmon (because, for whatever reason, fish does not seem to bother me and I'm fine with being a pescaterian, or whatever), pasta, potatoes and veggies. We sat at the dining table, where there were toasts and gag gifts and regular gifts. We intended to leave early, but we stayed until 9. I wasn't itching to get out of there either. It was -- dare I say? -- fun.
The next day, we went to see the couples therapist. We don't really have many couple issues lately and, since I haven't been able to see my therapist, it was more of a Kim-focused session. This therapist is very different from any I've ever seen. He doesn't specialize in eating disorders, and that doesn't seem to matter to me right now. Whatever remnants of anorexia are left in my life, they seem more a symptom of some other, deeper issues than anything else. These other, deeper issues involve caring what others think, adhering to rules and "shoulds," clinging to this idea of "being normal," seeking approval from every single person I meet, ever. It's an exhausting way to live. It feels like chasing after something ever-elusive, some mysterious reward or recognition. I like this therapist because he talks a lot about my writing career, which is a big part of who I am, but one I tend to avoid discussing because the reality of not having a novel published after this many years of trying is very sad for me. Anyway, I'll be going back for an appointment next weekend. The goal for me in therapy right now seems to be to find some trust and confidence in myself, to enjoy a bit more.
Somewhere along the way, I forgot about the simple concept of enjoyment. I stopped looking inside myself and began looking, frantically, for something outside myself to tell me the "right" way to live. It scares me to think there is no "right" way. We just have a certain number of years, then it's done, and there's no grand purpose. A friend of mine read a smattering of my short stories recently and said, "You know, a lot of your stories, even the funny ones, talk about death." I never realized this before, but I think it's something that does loom in my subconscious quite often. We have such a short time, and the maximizer in me wants to make it "the best." I'm afraid of getting it wrong.
Sorry if that was a bit out there. I'm tired. The cats keep waking us up before dawn.
I'm off to meet a friend for coffee in a few minutes. All that angst I had about getting out in the world seems to have dissipated. We had brunch with my good friend and her husband today. I had zero anxiety about that. Go figure. I know I'm introverted, but I do enjoy people. I have to remember this ;)
I'm even looking forward to Christmas, or at least baking pumpkin oatmeal raisin cookies (a new recipe I'm trying) and chocolate chip cookies, and watching my favorite Christmas movies ("Scrooged," "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation," "Elf," "A Christmas Story," even "Bad Santa").
What are your favorite Christmas cookies and movies?
***
Today's gratitude:
1. Short work week coming up!
2. My appetite is raging ever since the therapy session. Oh, the power of therapy. It'd been kind of blah there for a while.
3. Hair cut! I needed a trim. Lawrence did too, so we had a couples hair cut. I know, you can gag. I almost did. But, it was necessary. He's growing his hair long and it was getting sort of out of control. When I asked my hair dresser if it was hard to cut a guy's hair when it's that long, she said, "No, it's just like cutting a girl's hair at that point." Ha.
4. Clean house, clothes, towels, sheets. Makes me happy.
5. Wearing t-shirts in December. Yes, I like the occasional cold snap, but California weather is just so beautiful.
Our company holiday party was on Friday. I wasn't really looking forward to this, as most social events bring stress for me. It was at our boss's house, which was beautiful by HGTV (and my) standards. Within ten minutes, I remembered that, yes, I do know how to do this, "this" being "socialize with human beings." I don't know why I get so hard on myself. I'm actually a good conversationalist (and this is without booze involved). I talked to one of our co-worker's wives for a long time and found myself thinking, "If this chick wanted to do lunch, I'd totally go," which is sort of a big deal for me. When the dinner line started, I wasn't even nervous. I had some salmon (because, for whatever reason, fish does not seem to bother me and I'm fine with being a pescaterian, or whatever), pasta, potatoes and veggies. We sat at the dining table, where there were toasts and gag gifts and regular gifts. We intended to leave early, but we stayed until 9. I wasn't itching to get out of there either. It was -- dare I say? -- fun.
The next day, we went to see the couples therapist. We don't really have many couple issues lately and, since I haven't been able to see my therapist, it was more of a Kim-focused session. This therapist is very different from any I've ever seen. He doesn't specialize in eating disorders, and that doesn't seem to matter to me right now. Whatever remnants of anorexia are left in my life, they seem more a symptom of some other, deeper issues than anything else. These other, deeper issues involve caring what others think, adhering to rules and "shoulds," clinging to this idea of "being normal," seeking approval from every single person I meet, ever. It's an exhausting way to live. It feels like chasing after something ever-elusive, some mysterious reward or recognition. I like this therapist because he talks a lot about my writing career, which is a big part of who I am, but one I tend to avoid discussing because the reality of not having a novel published after this many years of trying is very sad for me. Anyway, I'll be going back for an appointment next weekend. The goal for me in therapy right now seems to be to find some trust and confidence in myself, to enjoy a bit more.
Somewhere along the way, I forgot about the simple concept of enjoyment. I stopped looking inside myself and began looking, frantically, for something outside myself to tell me the "right" way to live. It scares me to think there is no "right" way. We just have a certain number of years, then it's done, and there's no grand purpose. A friend of mine read a smattering of my short stories recently and said, "You know, a lot of your stories, even the funny ones, talk about death." I never realized this before, but I think it's something that does loom in my subconscious quite often. We have such a short time, and the maximizer in me wants to make it "the best." I'm afraid of getting it wrong.
Sorry if that was a bit out there. I'm tired. The cats keep waking us up before dawn.
I'm off to meet a friend for coffee in a few minutes. All that angst I had about getting out in the world seems to have dissipated. We had brunch with my good friend and her husband today. I had zero anxiety about that. Go figure. I know I'm introverted, but I do enjoy people. I have to remember this ;)
I'm even looking forward to Christmas, or at least baking pumpkin oatmeal raisin cookies (a new recipe I'm trying) and chocolate chip cookies, and watching my favorite Christmas movies ("Scrooged," "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation," "Elf," "A Christmas Story," even "Bad Santa").
What are your favorite Christmas cookies and movies?
***
Today's gratitude:
1. Short work week coming up!
2. My appetite is raging ever since the therapy session. Oh, the power of therapy. It'd been kind of blah there for a while.
3. Hair cut! I needed a trim. Lawrence did too, so we had a couples hair cut. I know, you can gag. I almost did. But, it was necessary. He's growing his hair long and it was getting sort of out of control. When I asked my hair dresser if it was hard to cut a guy's hair when it's that long, she said, "No, it's just like cutting a girl's hair at that point." Ha.
4. Clean house, clothes, towels, sheets. Makes me happy.
5. Wearing t-shirts in December. Yes, I like the occasional cold snap, but California weather is just so beautiful.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Depression Confession
I've mentioned my "crap mood" in the past few posts, usually just in passing, hoping it will go away if I ignore it (because that's always worked in the past -- har har). I've just been depressed. I hate that word, mostly because it's so overused, describing everything from a clinical problem to feelings about a bad hair day. I've found myself stuck in this "what's the point of anything?" line of thinking. I don't think it's related to work. In fact, the moods hit me hardest on the weekends, when I have downtime. It may be related to lack of therapy (due to my work schedule), but, more than anything, I think it's the time of year. It seems like my depression increases exponentially as the holidays get closer.
Around the holidays, I tend to become hyper aware of how "weird" I am. With all the holiday excitement, I just don't feel "normal." I'm not religious, for one. And, I'm an introvert. Let me tell you, the holidays are a hard time for the reclusive. In looking at our schedule for the next couple weeks, I start to get heart palpitations. And, it's not even that busy -- a work party here, friend get-togethers there, a family visit here, a family party there. Probably a total of 4-5 holiday-related social things. I know people who go to 4-5 holiday-related social things in one Saturday. This, however, is my idea of hell.
I've thought a lot about how much my anorexia has influenced my introversion. While I'm sure my rigidity limits my enthusiasm about different events (particularly if there is food involved or my usual routine is interrupted), I'm also comforted to remember that I was introverted as a little kid, long before anorexia entered the picture. I've never liked small talk. I've always felt awkward, uncomfortable in my skin, at gatherings. Maybe, perhaps, that's just who I am. I push myself when I need to (I think), but I also know I have to set boundaries to maintain my sanity. I'm aware that my sanity needs may be much different than another person's sanity needs. It seems that most people this time of year are more than happy to go from one social event to the next, sipping egg nog and Christmas caroling. I've spent many years wishing I was that type of person, while simultaneously feeling like a weirdo for needing so much quiet time. What I keep realizing is that I need to just accept myself.
I've liked to believe that the "bad" parts of myself (introversion being one) are because of anorexia. I've liked to believe that I'll be bubbly and socially energetic if I'm over my issues (Side note: Any time we watch "Project Runway," I stare longingly at the always-smiling and cheery Heidi Klum and tell Larry, wistfully, "I want to be her." It's weird). I have this half-baked theory that a reason I'm reluctant to go from "in recovery" to "recovered" is because I'll have to accept that I'm still just... me. I've always had a bit of a melancholy temperament. I've been an overthinker, an analyzer. I'm very easily moved to tears (hello, do you remember when I cried about Taylor Swift getting upstaged?). And I'm very internal. Much of my adventure in life takes place in my mind, which is probably why I'm a writer.
Still, as much as I think I know who I am, I seem to fall victim to the "shoulds" every holiday season. I've never been particularly good at deflecting shoulds. I've absorbed so many because it's a quick and easy way to feel validated, like I'm living the "right" way. I've heard the "get 30 minutes of exercise a day" commands and I've obliged. I've listened to the various rules about food -- from "don't eat white bread" to "no trans fats" to "load up on antioxidants" -- and I've adjusted my diet accordingly. Why? I think following shoulds is an expression of lack of self; or, if the self is there, it's a lack of confidence in that self. I don't trust what I want, so I look to something outside of me to dictate my behaviors, something validated by society at large as being "good." It's like every time I follow a societal should, I get a little of the pat on the back that I used to get from earning all A's in school.
The problem is that the praise is empty and short-lived (probably because it's coming from an imagined source). And I can't ignore that there is a part of me that's alive and kicking (thank God), that says, "Hey, wait, this isn't what YOU want!" This time of year, I perceive lots of social rules around attendance of gatherings, gift-giving, card-writing, eating, drinking, being "merry." There are a thousand remakes of "A Christmas Carole" that seem to tell me I'm a scrooge because I feel an aversion to these rules. It weighs on me that I'm somehow a bad person -- bad daughter, bad sister, bad wife, bad friend -- and, wham, there's that depression. Recent example: I had to tell my sister that we wouldn't be at her Christmas party and the guilt -- oh, the GUILT -- was horrendous. I hate saying "no," being the disappointer, but I fear this has led me to lose myself on several occasions before. At some point, I'm going to have to own my needs and not stress too much about how it looks to others. We're all different -- though the media, and every remake of "A Christmas Carole," would have us believe otherwise.
***
Today's gratitude:
1. My reading last night went well :)
2. Target trip on lunch break.
3. Mexican casserole tonight?
4. Sunshine.
5. I've finally come to peace with the fact that I hate Whole Foods. I know, it's blasphemous, but I tried to go there this past weekend and I just don't like it. Too many options. Too much health information. I'll stick with Trader Joe's :)
Around the holidays, I tend to become hyper aware of how "weird" I am. With all the holiday excitement, I just don't feel "normal." I'm not religious, for one. And, I'm an introvert. Let me tell you, the holidays are a hard time for the reclusive. In looking at our schedule for the next couple weeks, I start to get heart palpitations. And, it's not even that busy -- a work party here, friend get-togethers there, a family visit here, a family party there. Probably a total of 4-5 holiday-related social things. I know people who go to 4-5 holiday-related social things in one Saturday. This, however, is my idea of hell.
I've thought a lot about how much my anorexia has influenced my introversion. While I'm sure my rigidity limits my enthusiasm about different events (particularly if there is food involved or my usual routine is interrupted), I'm also comforted to remember that I was introverted as a little kid, long before anorexia entered the picture. I've never liked small talk. I've always felt awkward, uncomfortable in my skin, at gatherings. Maybe, perhaps, that's just who I am. I push myself when I need to (I think), but I also know I have to set boundaries to maintain my sanity. I'm aware that my sanity needs may be much different than another person's sanity needs. It seems that most people this time of year are more than happy to go from one social event to the next, sipping egg nog and Christmas caroling. I've spent many years wishing I was that type of person, while simultaneously feeling like a weirdo for needing so much quiet time. What I keep realizing is that I need to just accept myself.
I've liked to believe that the "bad" parts of myself (introversion being one) are because of anorexia. I've liked to believe that I'll be bubbly and socially energetic if I'm over my issues (Side note: Any time we watch "Project Runway," I stare longingly at the always-smiling and cheery Heidi Klum and tell Larry, wistfully, "I want to be her." It's weird). I have this half-baked theory that a reason I'm reluctant to go from "in recovery" to "recovered" is because I'll have to accept that I'm still just... me. I've always had a bit of a melancholy temperament. I've been an overthinker, an analyzer. I'm very easily moved to tears (hello, do you remember when I cried about Taylor Swift getting upstaged?). And I'm very internal. Much of my adventure in life takes place in my mind, which is probably why I'm a writer.
Still, as much as I think I know who I am, I seem to fall victim to the "shoulds" every holiday season. I've never been particularly good at deflecting shoulds. I've absorbed so many because it's a quick and easy way to feel validated, like I'm living the "right" way. I've heard the "get 30 minutes of exercise a day" commands and I've obliged. I've listened to the various rules about food -- from "don't eat white bread" to "no trans fats" to "load up on antioxidants" -- and I've adjusted my diet accordingly. Why? I think following shoulds is an expression of lack of self; or, if the self is there, it's a lack of confidence in that self. I don't trust what I want, so I look to something outside of me to dictate my behaviors, something validated by society at large as being "good." It's like every time I follow a societal should, I get a little of the pat on the back that I used to get from earning all A's in school.
The problem is that the praise is empty and short-lived (probably because it's coming from an imagined source). And I can't ignore that there is a part of me that's alive and kicking (thank God), that says, "Hey, wait, this isn't what YOU want!" This time of year, I perceive lots of social rules around attendance of gatherings, gift-giving, card-writing, eating, drinking, being "merry." There are a thousand remakes of "A Christmas Carole" that seem to tell me I'm a scrooge because I feel an aversion to these rules. It weighs on me that I'm somehow a bad person -- bad daughter, bad sister, bad wife, bad friend -- and, wham, there's that depression. Recent example: I had to tell my sister that we wouldn't be at her Christmas party and the guilt -- oh, the GUILT -- was horrendous. I hate saying "no," being the disappointer, but I fear this has led me to lose myself on several occasions before. At some point, I'm going to have to own my needs and not stress too much about how it looks to others. We're all different -- though the media, and every remake of "A Christmas Carole," would have us believe otherwise.
***
Today's gratitude:
1. My reading last night went well :)
2. Target trip on lunch break.
3. Mexican casserole tonight?
4. Sunshine.
5. I've finally come to peace with the fact that I hate Whole Foods. I know, it's blasphemous, but I tried to go there this past weekend and I just don't like it. Too many options. Too much health information. I'll stick with Trader Joe's :)
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Celebrating
This is a sappy post to wish my husband a very happy birthday. Much to my annoyance, he is still in his twenties.
My day started with making brownies, which had more of a cake consistency, causing me to wonder what the difference is between brownies and chocolate cake anyway. In any case, they tasted good. And I'm happy I skipped my morning routine to bake.
We went out to lunch at The Counter, where I surprised myself with how many sweet potato french fries I consumed with my meal. There are certain occasions in my life during which anorexia is not allowed to intrude. This would be one of them. There didn't used to be any, so I call that progress.
We were also planning to go out to dinner -- at Houston's. I remember several years ago when going out to eat twice in one day would have caused my heart to race in fine panic attack fashion. Today, I could feel my"preference" for "nice, healthy, Kim-made meals," but I was more than happy to shove that preference aside and celebrate. I told myself today is about Larry, not my food anxieties.
And then he went ahead and said he'd rather stay in, watch TV and eat chili. So, that's what we did :)
Larry and I have been through a lot in this past year, and I'm just so grateful that we've come as far as we have. Now, I can't imagine my life without him in it. He allows me to be exactly who I am, without judgment. He loves and supports me and makes enormous efforts, seemingly effortlessly, to get me to smile on a routine basis. He didn't have to make any efforts today though; I was just happy to celebrate with him.
***
Today's gratitude:
1. Friday is just about here.
2. We're headed out to Palm Springs on Saturday for birthday lunch with Larry's family.
3. I'm only mildly concerned with all the eating out (and how the perfectly good food we have in the fridge is going bad. Seriously, this bothers me more than anything these days. Hello, OCD, we've met before, right?)
4. I have a reading this Sunday with DimeStories (http://www.dimestories.org/). I'm trying out an excerpt from my newest novel (well, an abbreviated excerpt, to fit the strict time limit), so we'll see how it goes.
5. More rain in the forecast.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Recipe of the week: Mexican casserole/lasagna thingie
I don't really know what this is. You tell me :)
What you need:
-Corn tortillas (5 of 'em, to be exact)
-1 can refried beans
-1 can black beans
-Red and/or yellow onion
-About 1 cup of frozen corn
-2 TSP cumin
-1 jar of your favorite salsa (the runny kind, not the chunky kind)
-3 clove garlic
-Olive oil
-Tofu (about half a block, patted dry with a paper towel and cut into chunks) and/or chicken (about 1 breast, cut into chunks or strips)
-Shredded cheese (whatever you have -- mozzarella, cheddar, blend -- will probably be good)
-Cilantro and tomato for topping
What you do:
Set the oven to 350.
Warm a little olive oil in a pan (just enough to cover the pan's bottom).
Chop up the onion. I use about 2 cups because I like onion. Chop up the cloves of garlic too. Throw them in a pan together with the olive oil.
Heat up the corn in the microwave, then throw it in with the garlic and onion.
Drain the can of black beans and throw that in there too.
Add the salsa ad cumin.
Mix it all up and let it cook in the pan on medium heat.
Now, since I'm vegetarian, I do tofu for my half and chicken for Larry's half. I cook them up in separate pans, with a little oil, salsa and cumin for flavor.
Grease the bottom of an 8x8 pan.
Take 5 corn tortillas and stack them, then cut them in half. You'll use these halves to layer the bottom of your pan. I do one tortilla half for each side of the pan, then one in the middle, to cover up any holes. You shouldn't see any of the bottom of the pan.
Next, take some of the refried beans and spread it over the corn tortillas, as a sort of base. I just use a few heaping spoonfuls and spread it around, like this:
Now, take half of your black bean mixture in the pan and scoop it on top of the tortillas and refried beans. Then, take half of your tofu/chicken and put it on top. I put tofu on one side for me, and chicken on the other side for Larry.
Look at that steam!
The steam is begging for some cheese to melt so please oblige.
Then, repeat the layering: Corn tortillas, refried beans, the rest of the bean mixture, the rest of the tofu and/or chicken, and cheese.
Cover with foil and stick in the oven for about 15 minutes. I like my cheese to get a little crispy, so sometimes I take off the foil and let it cook a little bit longer.
Cut up some tomato and cilantro and put that on top. The finished piece looks like this:
It's delicious. I always eat my half of the pan :)
***
Today's gratitude:
1. It's Larry's 28th birthday tomorrow! I love celebrating birthdays, so I can't wait!
2. Larry planned a trip for us over Christmas break. We're going to Vegas to see the Black Eyed Peas and Lion King! Once again, I can't wait, and I'm so happy he did this since I've been in such a crap mood lately.
3. Netflix 3-at-a-time plan. I always go back to this.
4. I'm doing really well with my non-exercise non-plan.
5. Christmas cards.
What you need:
-Corn tortillas (5 of 'em, to be exact)
-1 can refried beans
-1 can black beans
-Red and/or yellow onion
-About 1 cup of frozen corn
-2 TSP cumin
-1 jar of your favorite salsa (the runny kind, not the chunky kind)
-3 clove garlic
-Olive oil
-Tofu (about half a block, patted dry with a paper towel and cut into chunks) and/or chicken (about 1 breast, cut into chunks or strips)
-Shredded cheese (whatever you have -- mozzarella, cheddar, blend -- will probably be good)
-Cilantro and tomato for topping
What you do:
Set the oven to 350.
Warm a little olive oil in a pan (just enough to cover the pan's bottom).
Chop up the onion. I use about 2 cups because I like onion. Chop up the cloves of garlic too. Throw them in a pan together with the olive oil.
Heat up the corn in the microwave, then throw it in with the garlic and onion.
Drain the can of black beans and throw that in there too.
Add the salsa ad cumin.
Mix it all up and let it cook in the pan on medium heat.
Now, since I'm vegetarian, I do tofu for my half and chicken for Larry's half. I cook them up in separate pans, with a little oil, salsa and cumin for flavor.
Grease the bottom of an 8x8 pan.
Take 5 corn tortillas and stack them, then cut them in half. You'll use these halves to layer the bottom of your pan. I do one tortilla half for each side of the pan, then one in the middle, to cover up any holes. You shouldn't see any of the bottom of the pan.
Next, take some of the refried beans and spread it over the corn tortillas, as a sort of base. I just use a few heaping spoonfuls and spread it around, like this:
Now, take half of your black bean mixture in the pan and scoop it on top of the tortillas and refried beans. Then, take half of your tofu/chicken and put it on top. I put tofu on one side for me, and chicken on the other side for Larry.
Look at that steam!
The steam is begging for some cheese to melt so please oblige.
Then, repeat the layering: Corn tortillas, refried beans, the rest of the bean mixture, the rest of the tofu and/or chicken, and cheese.
Cover with foil and stick in the oven for about 15 minutes. I like my cheese to get a little crispy, so sometimes I take off the foil and let it cook a little bit longer.
Cut up some tomato and cilantro and put that on top. The finished piece looks like this:
It's delicious. I always eat my half of the pan :)
***
Today's gratitude:
1. It's Larry's 28th birthday tomorrow! I love celebrating birthdays, so I can't wait!
2. Larry planned a trip for us over Christmas break. We're going to Vegas to see the Black Eyed Peas and Lion King! Once again, I can't wait, and I'm so happy he did this since I've been in such a crap mood lately.
3. Netflix 3-at-a-time plan. I always go back to this.
4. I'm doing really well with my non-exercise non-plan.
5. Christmas cards.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Molehills out of mountains
When I first got sick, my mom made a passing comment one day that has stuck with me since. I don't remember what the context was, but I must have been fretting about calories or weight or something numerical and relatively meaningless in the grand scheme of things. She said, "You know, it's like you're making molehills out of mountains." What she meant was that I was too overwhelmed with the "mountain" that is life, so I chipped away a small portion of it (food) and decided to fixate on just that. Somehow, this brought me calm from my anxieties.
What made me remember this was reading The Paradox of Choice by Barry Schwartz. I just finished it this past week and I have to thank those of you who recommended it to me. Many, many light bulbs went off in my head. Of course, I could not help but think of the book in terms of anorexia (and the personality traits that seem to be anorexia's bedfellows).
Maybe my mom was onto something. When I developed anorexia, I was leaving high school, a world that felt safe and predictable to me -- go to school, do homework, get good grades and praise, hang out with friends known for years, depend on mom and dad for pretty much everything. With that simplicity ending, I kind of freaked out (though I was trying so hard to be the overachiever who was super excited and ready for the future that I didn't even realize I was freaking out). There were all these choices -- this school or that one, this state or that one, this major or that one, this dorm or that one. Somehow, around that time, I seemed to channel all this energy into one thing: this food or that one.
Simplifying made me feel better, which is no real shock. At the very beginning of his book, Schwartz says, "A majority of people want more control over the details of their lives, but a majority of people also want to simplify their lives. There you have it -- the paradox of our times." What's "great" about anorexia is that it provides this illusion of control over everything. Manipulating the body (and all the feelings that usually tell the body what to do) is sort of a power play. At the same time, anorexia is very, very simple. Existence is kind of, I don't know, easy with anorexia. Not pleasurable by any means, but easy (and, if you're sick long enough, your understanding of "pleasure" changes anyway; soon, your simple life, with all its rules and restrictions is "pleasurable," or that's what you tell yourself). I was able to recreate that pre-college feeling of everything being safe and predictable. Of course, it only worked for so long, like a band-aid. The band-aid gets tattered and gross over time, or just falls off, revealing the real pain, the anxieties I have about living in the world. After reading this book, I think many of the anxieties I have are choice-related.
Novelist and existentialist philosopher Albert Camus asked, "Should I kill myself, or have a cup of coffee?" What he's saying is that everything in life is a choice. Every second of every day, we are choosing, and there are always alternatives. Our lives are defined by the choices we make (and the alternatives we forgo). If you are someone who overthinks and searches endlessly for "the best," this can be a pretty overwhelming notion.
I've always wanted "the best," and this puts me in the category of a "maximizer." Whereas a "satisficer" can settle for something good enough, the maximizer is constantly looking for the best. This means that maximizers compare more (check), take longer to make decisions (check), experience more regret after making decisions (check), experience anticipatory regret before making decisions (check), and generally feel less positive about their choices (check). As Schwartz says, "If you're a maximizer, every option has the potential to snare you into endless tangles of anxiety, regret, and second-guessing."
I would venture to say that most people with anorexia are maximizers. It's been said that anorexia and perfectionism go hand in hand, but Schwartz makes an important distinction here: perfectionists set high standards that they don't really expect to meet; maximizers set high standards that they DO expect to meet. This would be me.
I would also venture to say that the anorexic mentality is a way to both satisfy and quell maximizing tendencies. It's satisfied by "accomplishments" like losing a certain amount of weight, eating a certain number of calories, doing better than everyone else in this diet-obsessed culture, etc. It's quelled because anorexia makes life very small. Schwartz says, "Even with relatively unimportant decisions, mistakes can take a toll. When you put a lot of time and effort into choosing a restaurant or a place to go on vacation or a new item of clothing, you want that effort to be rewarded with a satisfying result. As options increase, the effort involved in making decisions increases, so mistakes hurt even more." Anorexia is a nice, tidy way to make the hurt less. The rules around food (which, I think, extend to things like money and other aspects of life) mean that 95% of options are pretty much eliminated. Go to the party? No, there will be food there. Go on a trip? No, too expensive. Buy some new clothes? No, can't look at body, and too expensive. What to eat? Duh, whatever fits The Plan. Even Schwartz concedes that "following rules eliminates troublesome choices in your daily life." Anorexia provided a structure for me, where I didn't have to bog myself down with all these options and alternatives and trade-offs; the disease pretty much made decisions for me.
This was great for about a year. And when I decided it wasn't so great, that I was being held hostage, that I wanted to WANT again, I was stuck in patterns that I'm still trying to leave behind. I want the freedom to choose now, for myself. Where I'm at is learning how to manage that freedom without freaking out. I still hate making decisions, about anything. Yesterday, I was completely flustered trying to decide on somewhere to eat for lunch. By the time we chose Pei Wei, I was so annoyed with the decision process that I barely noticed my food. Another example: I didn't want to do the day trip over Thanksgiving weekend because I thought, "What if we get lost? What if it's stupid and it's my fault since I suggested it? What if I regret wasting the gas? What if the lunch is bad?" I'm still so concerned with making the best choices, with maximizing, that it's very hard for me to enjoy things. Schwartz makes a few important points here:
When people have asked, "What's your biggest fear?" I've always said "regret." I never realized how much this says about me as a person. Fearing regret is basically fearing living. Not every decision or choice can be perfect. The truth is there is no objective "best." There is no best vacation or job or weekend activity. Ultimately, what matters is my subjective experience of my choices. If I'm constantly thinking I could have done something better, I'm going to be disappointed and unethusiastic quite often. What's interesting is that the director at the treatment center I went to in 2001 said that my biggest issue was disappointment (this is right after she met me). I never really connected this to anorexia before, but I think anorexia is a way to make life small, so decisions can be avoided, for fear that the "wrong" one will be made. Like my mom said, it comes down to making molehills out of mountains.
If I'm going to tackle the mountain, the key seems to be to learn how to be more of a satisficer, to learn to settle for "good enough." I'm getting a little better at this every day, but it's not easy.
***
Today's gratitude:
1. Larry. He's been very loving and supportive though my mood's been funky this past week.
2. I have a massage today.
3. Cold weather. Yes, it's actually cold in Southern California (or, in the fifties and sixties, which is cold for us).
4. Soup in my future.
5. Kitties.
What made me remember this was reading The Paradox of Choice by Barry Schwartz. I just finished it this past week and I have to thank those of you who recommended it to me. Many, many light bulbs went off in my head. Of course, I could not help but think of the book in terms of anorexia (and the personality traits that seem to be anorexia's bedfellows).
Maybe my mom was onto something. When I developed anorexia, I was leaving high school, a world that felt safe and predictable to me -- go to school, do homework, get good grades and praise, hang out with friends known for years, depend on mom and dad for pretty much everything. With that simplicity ending, I kind of freaked out (though I was trying so hard to be the overachiever who was super excited and ready for the future that I didn't even realize I was freaking out). There were all these choices -- this school or that one, this state or that one, this major or that one, this dorm or that one. Somehow, around that time, I seemed to channel all this energy into one thing: this food or that one.
Simplifying made me feel better, which is no real shock. At the very beginning of his book, Schwartz says, "A majority of people want more control over the details of their lives, but a majority of people also want to simplify their lives. There you have it -- the paradox of our times." What's "great" about anorexia is that it provides this illusion of control over everything. Manipulating the body (and all the feelings that usually tell the body what to do) is sort of a power play. At the same time, anorexia is very, very simple. Existence is kind of, I don't know, easy with anorexia. Not pleasurable by any means, but easy (and, if you're sick long enough, your understanding of "pleasure" changes anyway; soon, your simple life, with all its rules and restrictions is "pleasurable," or that's what you tell yourself). I was able to recreate that pre-college feeling of everything being safe and predictable. Of course, it only worked for so long, like a band-aid. The band-aid gets tattered and gross over time, or just falls off, revealing the real pain, the anxieties I have about living in the world. After reading this book, I think many of the anxieties I have are choice-related.
Novelist and existentialist philosopher Albert Camus asked, "Should I kill myself, or have a cup of coffee?" What he's saying is that everything in life is a choice. Every second of every day, we are choosing, and there are always alternatives. Our lives are defined by the choices we make (and the alternatives we forgo). If you are someone who overthinks and searches endlessly for "the best," this can be a pretty overwhelming notion.
I've always wanted "the best," and this puts me in the category of a "maximizer." Whereas a "satisficer" can settle for something good enough, the maximizer is constantly looking for the best. This means that maximizers compare more (check), take longer to make decisions (check), experience more regret after making decisions (check), experience anticipatory regret before making decisions (check), and generally feel less positive about their choices (check). As Schwartz says, "If you're a maximizer, every option has the potential to snare you into endless tangles of anxiety, regret, and second-guessing."
I would venture to say that most people with anorexia are maximizers. It's been said that anorexia and perfectionism go hand in hand, but Schwartz makes an important distinction here: perfectionists set high standards that they don't really expect to meet; maximizers set high standards that they DO expect to meet. This would be me.
I would also venture to say that the anorexic mentality is a way to both satisfy and quell maximizing tendencies. It's satisfied by "accomplishments" like losing a certain amount of weight, eating a certain number of calories, doing better than everyone else in this diet-obsessed culture, etc. It's quelled because anorexia makes life very small. Schwartz says, "Even with relatively unimportant decisions, mistakes can take a toll. When you put a lot of time and effort into choosing a restaurant or a place to go on vacation or a new item of clothing, you want that effort to be rewarded with a satisfying result. As options increase, the effort involved in making decisions increases, so mistakes hurt even more." Anorexia is a nice, tidy way to make the hurt less. The rules around food (which, I think, extend to things like money and other aspects of life) mean that 95% of options are pretty much eliminated. Go to the party? No, there will be food there. Go on a trip? No, too expensive. Buy some new clothes? No, can't look at body, and too expensive. What to eat? Duh, whatever fits The Plan. Even Schwartz concedes that "following rules eliminates troublesome choices in your daily life." Anorexia provided a structure for me, where I didn't have to bog myself down with all these options and alternatives and trade-offs; the disease pretty much made decisions for me.
This was great for about a year. And when I decided it wasn't so great, that I was being held hostage, that I wanted to WANT again, I was stuck in patterns that I'm still trying to leave behind. I want the freedom to choose now, for myself. Where I'm at is learning how to manage that freedom without freaking out. I still hate making decisions, about anything. Yesterday, I was completely flustered trying to decide on somewhere to eat for lunch. By the time we chose Pei Wei, I was so annoyed with the decision process that I barely noticed my food. Another example: I didn't want to do the day trip over Thanksgiving weekend because I thought, "What if we get lost? What if it's stupid and it's my fault since I suggested it? What if I regret wasting the gas? What if the lunch is bad?" I'm still so concerned with making the best choices, with maximizing, that it's very hard for me to enjoy things. Schwartz makes a few important points here:
- The more we consider "opportunity costs" (like getting lost, wasting gas, etc), the less satisfied we'll be with our eventual decision, even if it's a "good" one.
- What happens when you have too many options is that you think you are responsible for what happens to you, which leads to a lot of self-pressure and self-criticism.
- Anticipated regret makes it very hard to choose anything at all; and postdecision regret makes it very hard to enjoy what you do choose.
When people have asked, "What's your biggest fear?" I've always said "regret." I never realized how much this says about me as a person. Fearing regret is basically fearing living. Not every decision or choice can be perfect. The truth is there is no objective "best." There is no best vacation or job or weekend activity. Ultimately, what matters is my subjective experience of my choices. If I'm constantly thinking I could have done something better, I'm going to be disappointed and unethusiastic quite often. What's interesting is that the director at the treatment center I went to in 2001 said that my biggest issue was disappointment (this is right after she met me). I never really connected this to anorexia before, but I think anorexia is a way to make life small, so decisions can be avoided, for fear that the "wrong" one will be made. Like my mom said, it comes down to making molehills out of mountains.
If I'm going to tackle the mountain, the key seems to be to learn how to be more of a satisficer, to learn to settle for "good enough." I'm getting a little better at this every day, but it's not easy.
***
Today's gratitude:
1. Larry. He's been very loving and supportive though my mood's been funky this past week.
2. I have a massage today.
3. Cold weather. Yes, it's actually cold in Southern California (or, in the fifties and sixties, which is cold for us).
4. Soup in my future.
5. Kitties.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
An exercise in letting go
Is anybody a fan of The Onion? Is it inappropriate that I found this funny? Well, I did. So there. Even though it's tongue-in-cheek, this idea of the "morbidly fit" isn't too far off in our culture (which is, I guess, why it works as satire).
Anyway, if you read this post, you know I've been thinking a bit about exercise. I take so well to societal "shoulds" and follow rules so well that, after my thirty-minute walk and my same-thing-every-day yoga session, I wonder, "Do I even enjoy this, or am I doing it because I think I have to?" I think I was leaning more to the "have to," to the morbidly fit, which concerned me. I'm prone to rituals. I get in ruts very easily. And I can turn something pleasureable into an obsessive obligation like nobody's business. I decided to try something revolutionary (well, for me): Taking a break.
What I'd been doing was this: Get up early, go for a fast-paced walk, stretch and do sit-ups and other yoga stuff, get ready for the day. While this isn't what I would call a "hard workout," it still felt like I wasn't really listening to my body; I was just going through motions. When I decided to take a break, I had a ton of anxiety about breaking the routine. What if I became a lazy blob? What if I lost all motivation and "let myself go"? Well, quite simply, all it took for me was to just break the routine to realize that "letting go" and "letting myself go" are not the same thing. I was being kind of silly. The world did not end. I did not even get upset. In fact, I felt a rush of happiness that I was able to do what I wanted to do, not what I thought I should do. Baby steps, right?
Like I said, I like rules. As Barry Schwartz says in The Paradox of Choice, rules help us navigate a world with a ton of choices (the chatter in my head goes like this: "Well, I could sleep in, or I could get up early and write, or I could go for a walk, or do yoga, or both, or just make a gourmet breakfast, or..."). I would love to say that I could be all willy-nilly about my eating and exercise, but I can't really. Not yet, anyway. So, I told myself this: Make every day a little different than the day before. This means, if I walk one day, I don't walk the next. If I do yoga one day, I don't do yoga the next. If I have oatmeal for breakfast one day, I go for eggs the next. For me, this works (so far). It keeps my mind a bit more active, as I'm focused more on changing things up than keeping them the same (which had been the previous goal). And, in the process of changing things up, I seem to become much more aware of what I feel like doing (which, lately, is not much, and I'm strangely ok with that).
The change for me has felt huge, though it probably appears subtle. Life feels too short to be Hitler with myself. I remember in treatment, there was a staff member who made a point to avoid exercise completely. She would take escalators instead of stairs. She would park as close to stores as possible. I always thought it was funny, but weird. Now, I get it. Maybe she had the same exercise issues in her past. Maybe she got a rush out of rebelling against the "shoulds" and the cult of the morbidly fit on a daily basis. Yes, moving my body feels good, so I don't plan on banning exercise completely, but I don't think I have to do it. And, now that I see that nothing happens if I skip days here and there, I'm not going to have a panic attack if a busy day means I can't get any physical activity (or if it's a non-busy day, but I really just want to watch TV). I have to believe it balances out.
***
Today's gratitude:
1. I'm throwing around screenplay ideas with my old writing friend. So fun!
2. I'm talking with another writer friend about a possibly exciting project.
3. In short, I have lots of writing ideas.
4. NBC TV starts shortly!
5. The weekend is almost here.
Anyway, if you read this post, you know I've been thinking a bit about exercise. I take so well to societal "shoulds" and follow rules so well that, after my thirty-minute walk and my same-thing-every-day yoga session, I wonder, "Do I even enjoy this, or am I doing it because I think I have to?" I think I was leaning more to the "have to," to the morbidly fit, which concerned me. I'm prone to rituals. I get in ruts very easily. And I can turn something pleasureable into an obsessive obligation like nobody's business. I decided to try something revolutionary (well, for me): Taking a break.
What I'd been doing was this: Get up early, go for a fast-paced walk, stretch and do sit-ups and other yoga stuff, get ready for the day. While this isn't what I would call a "hard workout," it still felt like I wasn't really listening to my body; I was just going through motions. When I decided to take a break, I had a ton of anxiety about breaking the routine. What if I became a lazy blob? What if I lost all motivation and "let myself go"? Well, quite simply, all it took for me was to just break the routine to realize that "letting go" and "letting myself go" are not the same thing. I was being kind of silly. The world did not end. I did not even get upset. In fact, I felt a rush of happiness that I was able to do what I wanted to do, not what I thought I should do. Baby steps, right?
Like I said, I like rules. As Barry Schwartz says in The Paradox of Choice, rules help us navigate a world with a ton of choices (the chatter in my head goes like this: "Well, I could sleep in, or I could get up early and write, or I could go for a walk, or do yoga, or both, or just make a gourmet breakfast, or..."). I would love to say that I could be all willy-nilly about my eating and exercise, but I can't really. Not yet, anyway. So, I told myself this: Make every day a little different than the day before. This means, if I walk one day, I don't walk the next. If I do yoga one day, I don't do yoga the next. If I have oatmeal for breakfast one day, I go for eggs the next. For me, this works (so far). It keeps my mind a bit more active, as I'm focused more on changing things up than keeping them the same (which had been the previous goal). And, in the process of changing things up, I seem to become much more aware of what I feel like doing (which, lately, is not much, and I'm strangely ok with that).
The change for me has felt huge, though it probably appears subtle. Life feels too short to be Hitler with myself. I remember in treatment, there was a staff member who made a point to avoid exercise completely. She would take escalators instead of stairs. She would park as close to stores as possible. I always thought it was funny, but weird. Now, I get it. Maybe she had the same exercise issues in her past. Maybe she got a rush out of rebelling against the "shoulds" and the cult of the morbidly fit on a daily basis. Yes, moving my body feels good, so I don't plan on banning exercise completely, but I don't think I have to do it. And, now that I see that nothing happens if I skip days here and there, I'm not going to have a panic attack if a busy day means I can't get any physical activity (or if it's a non-busy day, but I really just want to watch TV). I have to believe it balances out.
***
Today's gratitude:
1. I'm throwing around screenplay ideas with my old writing friend. So fun!
2. I'm talking with another writer friend about a possibly exciting project.
3. In short, I have lots of writing ideas.
4. NBC TV starts shortly!
5. The weekend is almost here.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Recipe of the week: Calzones!
Ok, let's be realistic. This may be a recipe of the month, or a recipe of the year. I cook all the time, but I'm not sure what's blog-worthy. And I feel very odd taking pictures of food. In any case, I've had a number of people ask about the calzones (probably because I mention them in my "today's gratitude" at least twice a week). So, here you go :)
What you need:
Please ignore those chocolate almonds in the background. They do not go in the calzone.
The list is:
-Pizza dough (I get the whole wheat refrigerated dough from Trader Joe's)
-Pizza sauce, or any marinara sauce
-Ricotta cheese
-Mozzarella
-Olive oil
-Various vegetables to saute. I like spinach, mushrooms, onion (red or yellow, or both if you're trying to get rid of leftovers), tomato, and garlic.
-Tapatio if you're weird like my husband.
Here's what you do:
Set the oven to 425. Then, make a vegetable mess in a big pan.
I don't measure when I cook, but I guess I use around a 1/2 cup of chopped onion and 1/4 cup chopped tomato. I slice up a couple cloves of garlic. Then I throw in about a cup of spinach and a 1/2 cup of mushrooms. I don't think you can cook up too many vegetables. Throw all the vegetables in a pan, with a tablespoon or two of olive oil and some of the pizza sauce, for flavor.
When you cook it up, it looks like this:
That's your main filling, if you're vegetarian. I saute some chicken in pizza sauce and olive oil for Larry.
Next, take your dough and press it out into a circle. The trick with the Trader Joe's dough is to leave it at room temperature for 10-20 minutes or so (I just stick it on the counter while I'm heating up the oven). Cut the bag in two. If you're cooking for one, you can save the other half for another time (it freezes well). Put each half on an oiled baking sheet and press it into the circle.
Put some of the pizza sauce on half of the circle.
Follow that with some ricotta (probably about 1/4 cup). Then, pile on your vegetables and top with mozzarella.
Stick it in the oven for 10-15 minutes, depending on your oven.
Take it out and poke it so the heat escapes. If you use Tapatio, be prepared for your eyeballs to burn.
EAT!
We always clean our plates. It's a lot of food, but I really don't know the calories, and I can't say I care. It's delicious!
***
Today's gratitude:
1. I got through a hard day after a very sleepless night. No reason for the insomnia; just one of those nights.
2. I'm still doing really well with my "exercise break." It's actually been extremely liberating. I'll post about it when I understand why, exactly, I didn't do this sooner.
3. Kitty paws. I love them.
4. New season of "Intervention" (though I thought the first episode was really odd).
5. Hump day is almost here!
What you need:
Please ignore those chocolate almonds in the background. They do not go in the calzone.
The list is:
-Pizza dough (I get the whole wheat refrigerated dough from Trader Joe's)
-Pizza sauce, or any marinara sauce
-Ricotta cheese
-Mozzarella
-Olive oil
-Various vegetables to saute. I like spinach, mushrooms, onion (red or yellow, or both if you're trying to get rid of leftovers), tomato, and garlic.
-Tapatio if you're weird like my husband.
Here's what you do:
Set the oven to 425. Then, make a vegetable mess in a big pan.
I don't measure when I cook, but I guess I use around a 1/2 cup of chopped onion and 1/4 cup chopped tomato. I slice up a couple cloves of garlic. Then I throw in about a cup of spinach and a 1/2 cup of mushrooms. I don't think you can cook up too many vegetables. Throw all the vegetables in a pan, with a tablespoon or two of olive oil and some of the pizza sauce, for flavor.
When you cook it up, it looks like this:
That's your main filling, if you're vegetarian. I saute some chicken in pizza sauce and olive oil for Larry.
Next, take your dough and press it out into a circle. The trick with the Trader Joe's dough is to leave it at room temperature for 10-20 minutes or so (I just stick it on the counter while I'm heating up the oven). Cut the bag in two. If you're cooking for one, you can save the other half for another time (it freezes well). Put each half on an oiled baking sheet and press it into the circle.
Put some of the pizza sauce on half of the circle.
Follow that with some ricotta (probably about 1/4 cup). Then, pile on your vegetables and top with mozzarella.
If you are like Larry, this is when you sprinkle on some Tapatio. He's crazy.
Fold the top half over the bottom and press edges with a fork.
Stick it in the oven for 10-15 minutes, depending on your oven.
Take it out and poke it so the heat escapes. If you use Tapatio, be prepared for your eyeballs to burn.
EAT!
We always clean our plates. It's a lot of food, but I really don't know the calories, and I can't say I care. It's delicious!
***
Today's gratitude:
1. I got through a hard day after a very sleepless night. No reason for the insomnia; just one of those nights.
2. I'm still doing really well with my "exercise break." It's actually been extremely liberating. I'll post about it when I understand why, exactly, I didn't do this sooner.
3. Kitty paws. I love them.
4. New season of "Intervention" (though I thought the first episode was really odd).
5. Hump day is almost here!
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