It's 12:15 am. The boy is at a friend's playing beer pong and I am so happy he is playing with his friends from work. I went home because I was feeling hung over all day and it was super cold out. So I am finally now starting to get sleepy and ready to pass out soon.
A pretty good day. It was great weather and I got to spend a lot of time outside. I applied a lot of places too. I feel okay.
I am so lucky to have so much support. I have the most wonderful boyfriend in the world. And he's fucking gorgeous. Takes my breath away still. Gah. Okay, time for bed.
Until post 3.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Post 1
It's 9:45 on a Sunday morning. I couldn't go back to sleep so I figured I would make this blog and run with it. A place where I can begin to track my progress for real. As hard and painful as it is going to be. This is a safe place I can write it all down and just get it out.
May 5th is when I went in to see my doctor again and face the music again of, yes this has happened again, and yes I see it and will deal with it. Even though so much of me then and still now is screaming not to. I was 78 pounds that day. Such a huge part of me was so proud to. Following that, a part was disgusted in myself for that. There's the problem. The wrong part was winning. The wrong voice was louder. The wrong voice still is louder but I think it's getting smaller?
So here are these people, who look at me like I am on my death bed. I don't feel it. I feel fine, physically, sort of? I don't feel weak, I don't feel my heart race, I don't feel dizzy. I feel like I function. But I know realistically my body isn't functioning to it's full capacity. I know which systems have slowed and stopped and I can feel that. I know it's not normal when I can feel my intestines and see them through my lower stomach. I see my body but I don't actually see it.
The rational thinking part of me thinks my eating disorder is very interesting and it amazes me what my mind can accomplish. My mind accomplished losing 13 pounds from January til May. I simply said "I can get there again, let's try it." And fuck, I am really good at that. I can change my body quickly and efficiently. It's terrifying.
But the most interesting part of this whole thing to me is, what I look at. What is my judge of where I am. Apparently, my lady tells me it is the most common place anorexic women look at and focus on. My lower stomach, I suppose the area below my hip bones. I see my hip bones and it comforts me more than I can even explain. I am oblivious of how much I touch them throughout the day too. I am always checking, checking to see if they are still there, if it feels like I am 'fatter' throughout the day. I can't just stop. I can't just not do that. It's so weird. Why is it that area? I see nothing else too on me. I don't see my arms or legs or shoulders. Even though, in pictures those are the scariest parts of me. They are so skinny, but every picture I see I immediately look down to that area. I feel that area. I feel it all the time like a time bomb waiting to explode and spin me into this wave of panic/anxiety.
At the same time, the rational part of me says wake up! What the hell are you talking about?? Look at you, you are under 80 pounds and 23 years old! Your arms are the size of wrists, your legs are tiny, you are tiny. You are not fat. Then in response, the irrational part of me says, but I can feel this part in my lower stomach that feels like a beach ball, I feel this imaginary bloating and this huge ....thing that is going to just get bigger. It's a fucking sci-fi movie for christ's sake.
Sometimes I can convince myself how ridiculous it all is, laugh it off, and feel like I can just stop and be normal. Honestly. I could. I really think I could. That's how I made it through last time. Or did I really make it through since I just relapsed? Did I relapse because I was bored? Was I just seeing if I could get my body to do that again? Or were there real stresses and anxiety that led me to fall back into bad habits? I think it's a combination of all of it.
The hardest part after eating for me is realizing and understanding I look the same. Nothing has changed. I ate a meal and I am still the person I was before the meal. I am not fatter. I am not a lesser of a person because I let myself eat. A lot of it is praise for the will power not to eat. Which is awful and pathetic and has nothing to do with anything positive. Part of me is so proud of myself when others eat and I don't. I feel superior. I feel better, more in control. Saying, "I don't need that food, I can keep going without it, but you need it." What the fuck is that? Seriously? Then a part of me is also saying " I admire you more than you know for being a woman and eating, eating because you want to, because you are hungry, because you love yourself and understand your body needs food to survive and become more beautiful. And more importantly, I admire that you don't loathe yourself after you eat."
I like the second voice better :)
But honestly, what truly does help me the most is seeing women eat. Women in all sorts of environments, I love watching them walk down the street holding a wrap or a sandwich or any food and chatting. At a restaurant for lunch. I haven't gone out for lunch in months. The spontaneous acts that women can participate in involving food blows my mind and I want that.
I don't want food to be the center of my life. I won't let it get any worse than it already has at least.
There are too many things I want to do right now than this. Soon I will start packing to move into a house with my boyfriend. Which terrifies and excites me all in one, which I think is good. I am scared because I will be in a house where I will not be in full control of the food. I am excited to be in a house that has a kitchen full of normal food :) .
I am looking for a second job as well. And I am so scared when it comes to starting a new job. I finally returned the call of a woman who owns Dream Dinners and told her I would love to work there if she had any openings or needed any help. This scares me. I hope her answer is yes because I am in too much of a comfort zone that is not moving. More hours at Paper Dreams will be wonderful and I am looking forward to that, but another job is a must and soon. I feel like an asshole for going to this interview today with no intention of taking the job, but for me, right now, in the state I'm in, I don't think it's the right match. But I will still interview and be honest up front, saying I am looking for a job in the evening, and if in the future they have any available, I hope they keep me in mind. But I cannot for the life of me wake up at 5:30 Tues, Weds, Thurs, Fri, and Sat to work min. wage for 4 hours. That means making a point of going to bed by at least 10 every single night, which means not seeing my boyfriend, who gets off work no earlier than 11 usually, and thus further isolating myself. I did that before. I know where it puts me. I won't do it.
It's only 10:15. Ugh.
May 5th is when I went in to see my doctor again and face the music again of, yes this has happened again, and yes I see it and will deal with it. Even though so much of me then and still now is screaming not to. I was 78 pounds that day. Such a huge part of me was so proud to. Following that, a part was disgusted in myself for that. There's the problem. The wrong part was winning. The wrong voice was louder. The wrong voice still is louder but I think it's getting smaller?
So here are these people, who look at me like I am on my death bed. I don't feel it. I feel fine, physically, sort of? I don't feel weak, I don't feel my heart race, I don't feel dizzy. I feel like I function. But I know realistically my body isn't functioning to it's full capacity. I know which systems have slowed and stopped and I can feel that. I know it's not normal when I can feel my intestines and see them through my lower stomach. I see my body but I don't actually see it.
The rational thinking part of me thinks my eating disorder is very interesting and it amazes me what my mind can accomplish. My mind accomplished losing 13 pounds from January til May. I simply said "I can get there again, let's try it." And fuck, I am really good at that. I can change my body quickly and efficiently. It's terrifying.
But the most interesting part of this whole thing to me is, what I look at. What is my judge of where I am. Apparently, my lady tells me it is the most common place anorexic women look at and focus on. My lower stomach, I suppose the area below my hip bones. I see my hip bones and it comforts me more than I can even explain. I am oblivious of how much I touch them throughout the day too. I am always checking, checking to see if they are still there, if it feels like I am 'fatter' throughout the day. I can't just stop. I can't just not do that. It's so weird. Why is it that area? I see nothing else too on me. I don't see my arms or legs or shoulders. Even though, in pictures those are the scariest parts of me. They are so skinny, but every picture I see I immediately look down to that area. I feel that area. I feel it all the time like a time bomb waiting to explode and spin me into this wave of panic/anxiety.
At the same time, the rational part of me says wake up! What the hell are you talking about?? Look at you, you are under 80 pounds and 23 years old! Your arms are the size of wrists, your legs are tiny, you are tiny. You are not fat. Then in response, the irrational part of me says, but I can feel this part in my lower stomach that feels like a beach ball, I feel this imaginary bloating and this huge ....thing that is going to just get bigger. It's a fucking sci-fi movie for christ's sake.
Sometimes I can convince myself how ridiculous it all is, laugh it off, and feel like I can just stop and be normal. Honestly. I could. I really think I could. That's how I made it through last time. Or did I really make it through since I just relapsed? Did I relapse because I was bored? Was I just seeing if I could get my body to do that again? Or were there real stresses and anxiety that led me to fall back into bad habits? I think it's a combination of all of it.
The hardest part after eating for me is realizing and understanding I look the same. Nothing has changed. I ate a meal and I am still the person I was before the meal. I am not fatter. I am not a lesser of a person because I let myself eat. A lot of it is praise for the will power not to eat. Which is awful and pathetic and has nothing to do with anything positive. Part of me is so proud of myself when others eat and I don't. I feel superior. I feel better, more in control. Saying, "I don't need that food, I can keep going without it, but you need it." What the fuck is that? Seriously? Then a part of me is also saying " I admire you more than you know for being a woman and eating, eating because you want to, because you are hungry, because you love yourself and understand your body needs food to survive and become more beautiful. And more importantly, I admire that you don't loathe yourself after you eat."
I like the second voice better :)
But honestly, what truly does help me the most is seeing women eat. Women in all sorts of environments, I love watching them walk down the street holding a wrap or a sandwich or any food and chatting. At a restaurant for lunch. I haven't gone out for lunch in months. The spontaneous acts that women can participate in involving food blows my mind and I want that.
I don't want food to be the center of my life. I won't let it get any worse than it already has at least.
There are too many things I want to do right now than this. Soon I will start packing to move into a house with my boyfriend. Which terrifies and excites me all in one, which I think is good. I am scared because I will be in a house where I will not be in full control of the food. I am excited to be in a house that has a kitchen full of normal food :) .
I am looking for a second job as well. And I am so scared when it comes to starting a new job. I finally returned the call of a woman who owns Dream Dinners and told her I would love to work there if she had any openings or needed any help. This scares me. I hope her answer is yes because I am in too much of a comfort zone that is not moving. More hours at Paper Dreams will be wonderful and I am looking forward to that, but another job is a must and soon. I feel like an asshole for going to this interview today with no intention of taking the job, but for me, right now, in the state I'm in, I don't think it's the right match. But I will still interview and be honest up front, saying I am looking for a job in the evening, and if in the future they have any available, I hope they keep me in mind. But I cannot for the life of me wake up at 5:30 Tues, Weds, Thurs, Fri, and Sat to work min. wage for 4 hours. That means making a point of going to bed by at least 10 every single night, which means not seeing my boyfriend, who gets off work no earlier than 11 usually, and thus further isolating myself. I did that before. I know where it puts me. I won't do it.
It's only 10:15. Ugh.
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