Tag: eating disorder recovery

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I’m right there.

tec

I’m not really sure what’s up with me today.

It was a good day by all accounts. And yet, tonight I found myself eating. Hell, this afternoon I found myself eating. I checked in with myself. Nothing really felt off. But here I was, eating.

I snacked when I don’t normally snack. I ate more, even if not a lot, after I snacked. I noticed I was doing it and was, like, curiously detached?

I checked in with myself even!

And still, I don’t know what it was about.

If I’m being honest here, I want to say that I didn’t check in fully. But I checked in. It’s a start–in this strange land of practice.

It really wasn’t about quantity today. It was this odd, nuanced quality. I don’t know what the thing was that triggered the response, but today I just…I wanted to give in a little bit.

I wanted the comfort of the familiar.

Unfortunately, it’s a short-lived comfort and what little it worked a month ago, it works even less now.

I ate some after 7. I ate some after 8 even. I could have eaten all night. It would never have provided anything.

In hindsight that is sad, but at the time, the “sadness” or “mourning” of that loss were not feelings that registered for me. What I thought about was “what feelings triggered this?” I didn’t come up with anything. But I asked the question. Which means I’m learning. And eventually, even without an answer, I stepped away and went for a walk instead.

Then tonight I was going to go to sleep. And then I decided to pick up the kitchen a bit. And I committed to writing this post, but then I found myself getting ready to wash the dishes and I thought, “damn, girl, whatcha avoiding?”

And I don’t know. But I traded the sponge for the keyboard and showed up for myself.

I got it all down even if I still don’t really know what the “what” was.

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Step down from this.

tec

I’m stomping. Oh my lord, I’m stomping. But I’m doing the damn thing too.

Damnit.

I’ve teetered all week on what I want my last 30 day food exemption to be for the next 90 challenge.  Last month I teetered too. Eventually I just decided to continue no ice cream.  But it kinda felt like not deciding.

I know snacking has been my downfall as of late. I know my body has been feeling kinda blah as a result. I know my food consumption has increased. I know I haven’t been ready to do anything about any of that. I know I’ve been afraid to lose the crutch.

Every morning I wake up and think maybe today will be the day I commit to no snacking and/or tostitos/pretzels/cheese puffs/chips. And every day I haven’t.

Today I thought maybe. And then when it came time, I thought maybe some more. And more again. And then instead, I chose a new question, and a new answer presented itself. I made carrots sticks with peanut butter and raisins.

I broke the cycle.

I don’t feel strong enough right in this moment to speak to what I might choose next time. Maybe it doesn’t matter. I dunno.

What I do know is that that very first moment means something. I’ll remember it. It’ll reinforce the thing that needs tending to. And then perhaps it’ll provide my answer for me when the time comes.

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The fire beneath my feet is burning bright.

tec

A couple nights ago I shared with Chris my ribcage. Years ago (2014) I weighed much less and my ribcage was a great source of pride. I had worked hard for that weight loss.

I had worked hard to overcome a crippling binge eating disorder. I had worked hard to find truth behind the lies of body dysmorphia. My success was evident in my body.

Then I consumed sugar (an orange, to be specific) for the first time in years and my eating disorder reminded me it was alive and well. Then I got pregnant and miscarried (2015). Eventually I got pregnant and had a baby (2016). Then postpartum happened. And sleep deprivation and stress and unhealthy eating patterns.

Life spiraled.

I gained and lost weight. I did Whole30 multiple times (2017). And keto a few. But something that strict felt like overkill. I wanted to learn to navigate healthy while not restricting sugar.

Previously (2010-2014) I had lived a strict Whole30 lifestyle for three+ years. Never touching any grains or fruit. Only consuming meats, healthy fats and the vegetables that didnt bother me. I felt good and never wanted for more.

I had been content never again consuming sugar, processed or otherwise. It felt safe. Sugar was my heroin. I had said it so many times.

But then suddenly (2018) life felt so different and “staying clean” with food was so freaking hard. I wanted sugar all the time. I was a fiend for it and I chased the rabbit hole in search of rock bottom. I’d hoped rock bottom would neutralize sugar for me. I’d hoped drowning in terrible coping mechanisms would give me time opportunity to learn safe ones.

I’d hoped it would do that before I caused irreparable damage and insurmountable weight gain.

It felt like a gamble. But it felt like a gamble that was worth it.

Last November I committed to Rachel Martin one food related change. Six weeks before everyone else was making New Years’ resolutions, she challenged me to dive head first into a headstart. I began with a food window. Much like intermittent fasting, except I wasn’t logging anything except the time. I needed permission to stop eating after dinner. I needed safeguards to not eat the moment I woke up.

Days turned to weeks turned to months. I was doing it. I could eat full on crap all through my window if I wanted. I didn’t want this time around to be about the food. I wanted it to be about the time. I was committed to clawing my way toward a healthy relationship with food by exhausting unhealthy. Only two things were required: food window from noon til 7pm and the first thing I eat is always a healthy, nutrient dense meal.

Enter a long season of a healthy breakfast at noon followed by hours of ice cream and chips and muffins and cookies and whatever the hell else I deemed in the name of “no restrictions”. Months later I called it quits on many of those things. Not out of fear or a need to restrict, but because I felt crappy. I wasn’t getting the physical results I wanted. Most importantly, I felt worse instead of better emotionally. I was looking for comfort and safety in the nonstop eating, and finding overwhelm and instability instead.

Enter Rachel and Dave Hollis and their next90 challenge.  This centers around five principles tended to daily.

  • Pen to paper five things I’m grateful for.
  • 30 minutes of moving my body.
  • Getting up an hour early for “me” time.
  • Drink half my weight in ounces of water.
  • Cut one food item you know you shouldn’t be eating.

I stopped eating cough drops, which had become a huge crutch. I had appreciated that I had found a hard candy made with sugar instead of corn syrup. And I abused the fuck out of them. For months. I ate them instead of eating, even tho I was still eating so much. And it was ridiculous. Next90 was just the excuse I needed to stop eating them. It was a relief in fact. Two and a half weeks later I committed to no more ice cream as well. It felt good to not rely on the familiar, destructive habits. It felt good to give myself the opportunity to find positive, constructive ones.

Here we are now in May and I’m noticing my ribs. For many days I noticed my ribs and I would touch them and play with them and feel the way my skin feels against them. I’d contemplate how in years past feeling thinner would be a huge trigger for me. How losing fat was the awesome success that turned into my downfall.

I showed Chris.

Chris got that adorable smile on his face. That smirky smile that is part turned on and part beaming with pride. And then he asked me how it feels. Because we ask each other stuff like that.

And I said that it feels weird.

And then he asked me this: how are you going to celebrate your accomplishment?

I was stopped in my tracks.

My accomplishment.

Suddenly it was all a different perspective. No need to get wrapped up in triggering thoughts or fear. No need to feel consumed by fear failure or success. No need to borrow trouble.

I can feel my ribs and know my body speaks for my hard work. I can take pride in my accomplishment and celebrate it. I can reap the benefits of fat minimizing and muscle maximizing.

I can allow my brain and my mindset to catch up with all the healthy, just as I allow my body to. It’s another reminder from the universe that I’ve got this. And the universe has me.

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It took some time to survive you.

tec

I’ve been disconnecting my why and my who from my present the past few days.

I’m sure there’s a reason. I’m sure that reason is important. But I haven’t tread there yet. I haven’t come here to pick it apart.

I know part (most?) of it is stress. I know it’s some of the little behind-the-scenes stuff happening that is out of my control. Or was once in my control (sorta) and I didn’t fight then to turn overwhelm into action. And so now there are multiple overwhelm categories all sneaking to the forefront at once.

I could name them, but that is scary. I’m not there yet. Even tho I know it’s helpful.

So I’m checking them off slowly without naming them.

But even still, I find myself here, now, facing the fact that my why and my who have not been congruent with my relationship with food. And that’s okay. There’s no shame in that. It’s observation. And still, it’s my present truth.

And that’s not to say that has to be my truth the next time I eat or tonight or tomorrow. It’s just the truth of what the last couple days have looked like. And part of my personal development is that I’m self aware enough to notice and acknowledge these things, and then decide where I place my foot during my next step.

I’ve noticed and acknowledged the last few days. Of course I have! I no longer have the luxury of not seeing it. And still I’ve made the decisions that the ideal, future, healthy version of me would. not. make. And to make it worse, when I make the anti-me decisions, I tack on preposterous words like, “future me would give herself a break right now and eat this” and “future me would allow for self care to be this one cookie”.

FUTURE ME WOULD. NOT. SAY. THAT.

Future me would say, “find a different way, sister!” (Because future me will sometimes talk like Rachel Hollis and randomly call people sister.)

Future me would also take the time to write because it’s my therapy. Because it brings me back to me. Because it brings me closer to living and breathing my idealized me.

So I sit here writing. Because it’s important. It’s vital. I need it. And I take breaks for self care.

Today I took L to the doctor and re-set myself on a stress path. I need to solidify some research there and put pen to paper. That will help. Today I will also call the tax guy and re-set myself on that stress path. Actively being on those paths is a lot less stressful than knowing I need to get on them. My higher functioning brain knows this, but the whole rest of my being fights it.

And I should also talk to my husband and speak some stress paths because that may be helpful even tho I keep adamantly dragging my feet about it and it’s the very very last thing I want to actually do.

So. Time to jump.

adventures in quarantine, Uncategorized

I know what I know if you know what I mean.

tec

Future me shared in confidence today. This eating disorder can appear at any time–nature of the disease. When things are really blah or really awesome. Any time it wants.

Future me stays proactive. So I stay proactive.

Today the boys and I made a cake, along with frosting from scratch. We videochat’d with grandma and grandpa, and then Sue and I laughed so hard we cried when S ate a spoonful of cocoa powder. It was really such an amazing way to spend an hour, especially when we can’thave physical contact.

Afterwards the boys and I each had a piece of cake and Chris stood in abstained solidarity with R because she cut out sugar this month. S asked for another piece, as he is wont to do, and I said no.

Then the cake sat there awhile.

It would have been so freaking easy to eat more and also I would have felt so sick. So I abstained too. It was easy.

This is when future me tapped me on the shoulder and said, “what about tomorrow?”

Me, I replied, “what about what about tomorrow?”

“What about when the appeal is bigger tomorrow? What about if the disease feels bigger tomorrow? What about when it isn’t easy?”

Oh.

Future me is proactive. So I am proactive.

I cut enough for the boys to have a couple small slices over the next few days, and then I wrapped up the rest for the freezer.

This emptied and clean baking dish felt better than anything else I did today.

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Close your eyes and think of me.

tec

Yesterday I suddenly became so freaking excited about all the things I’ve got going on–the growth mindset and decluttering (which is starting to feel really tangible again) and my very own website that I’m diligently working to launch. And fast as that realization hit, it was pulled from me.

I have no one to share it with.

That’s not entirely true. And it’s not my intention to discredit the people I have in my life, whom I love dearly, if I need something. But it’s not the same as having someone (or multiple someones) to be giddy with. It’s not the same as having someone who has known you for five years or fifteen. And despite my want for trying, I have no idea how to make up the difference.

Yesterday I navigated by leaning into the sadness and loneliness. I cried. I reached out to a new friend, someone who feels like she could be my people. I read al-anon passages. I watched Allie videos where she preached that I was worth clothes that make me feel good and uncluttered spaces and peace.

Slowly I walked through the grief.

And it sucked, while also feeling like progress. It was both. And I take comfort in the fact that it could be both and not just the suck. Still, tho. That suck is pretty sucky.

I find myself wondering often why my friends aren’t my friends anymore. Was it me? Was it them? Were we just not compatible for the long haul? I understand maybe they were just for a season, but…I miss them. I miss the me I was sometimes able to be with them. And I don’t know why they left. I wish I knew. It feels like maybe I’d better know how to keep friends if I knew why they left me. And yes, it does feel like the people I have in mind all personally chose to leave. To slowly sever the connection. It feels like if I could understand it, I could move on.

Reaching out to find out the why doesn’t feel like a good path tho, so I will continue to move along.

The notable progress about yesterday, apart from the through-not-around, was that food-as-comfort never crossed my mind. Food wasn’t on my radar at all. Pretty cool.

Today I am meeting two new friends for lunch. See what I can do about this loneliness business.

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Sentiments, like shadows, grow.

tec

I have a compulsion this morning to weigh myself. I know it’s just that–a compulsion.

I know the rational. It doesn’t negate the irrational.

Logically I know that, whatever the number on the scale, it isn’t indicative of my health or my progress or even really my weight. Logically.

I considered scratching the itch. I considered getting out the scale and just seeing and then I’d know and I could go about my day and I wouldn’t entertain it again.

But that’s not how compulsion works.  Because I weighed myself over the weekend. And that doesn’t matter at all to the voice in my head. In fact, it gives the voice fodder. You lost .6 pounds. The number went down! Let’s see if it went down more. I hope it didn’t go up. Do you think it went up? We should check. Maybe it went down to the next whole number. Let’s look.

I can hear these thoughts and not listen to them. I can choose that. It’s not easy. But it’s possible.

This morning, like every morning before I get out of bed, I felt my stomach. I noticed the thinner skin and the flatter mounds. I noticed how my ribs protrude a little more. I noticed how my pelvis juts beneath the skin and the area below my belly button each day feels a bit flatter and a bit more hollow. And I thanked my body for being strong and supporting me. For keeping me alive and safe. And I told it that I’m learning how to care for it properly and kindly and I hope it can see my progress. I thanked my body for showing me progress.

I do this every morning.

This morning that routine precipitated a desire to weigh myself. To see if the number validated the bones and muscles and curves of my body. Today that routine opened a door to allow the compulsive voice in. That’s okay. It doesn’t make it a bad plan. Honoring my body is a good thing. Navigating unexpected moments is good too. My constructive routine may have played a part in opening the door, but it presented me an opportunity, and I am able to choose to gently close the door with little to no damage.

I have a compulsion, but in this moment it doesn’t have me. So I’m not weighing myself. I’m not enabling the compulsion. I’ve put in years of work for this. To stay the course for this moment. To see all the things and let all the things just be. One foot in front of the other.

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A drop in the ocean.

tec

I never understand how my dog gets herself so bent in half.

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She always falls asleep so deeply like this tho, usually right at my feet.

It’s been in the back of my mind for a couple months now that even tho I’m still wearing the same size pants (12s and 14s), that my weight has maybe gone up significantly (and maybe even irrevocably) and so I’ve been afraid to weigh myself.

Last year this time I was on a journey from the 170s to the 140s, and the thought of being back there again hurts. I had a doctor appointment last week and I knew I’d get weighed and I would navigate it when I had to. But not before. I was 157 and I wasn’t upset about it. I assumed it would be 160s and it was actually motivating to find that I wasn’t.

I haven’t had a lot of body issue issues recently. No, I don’t necessarily *want* to be this size. But also, when I look in the mirror, I don’t feel bad about myself. In fact, most of the time I look in the mirror and feel pretty average. It’s a strange thing. I know I’ve been at this size before and felt fat and ugly and unlovable and undesirable. But I don’t right now.

Sometimes I do wonder how my husband contends with having had me in my 130s compared to the 170s. Sometimes I do think “man, I felt so much sexier in my 140s, when my stomach was flatter and my ribcage was more pronounced; how on earth does he not think this is gross?” But also….so what? He doesn’t and who am I to question that? He’s had ups and downs too and it doesn’t really come into factor in a tangible way for me.

Confidence certainly factors in. He feels more confident when he’s more fit. I get that. So do I. There’s a glow that comes when you are working to achieve a thing and successfully achieving it. So, the reverse is true too. There can be a dulling when you aren’t working toward self-happiness. The dulling can be, by design, not as sexy.

But I digress.

I am simultaneously content with my body as is, because it’s mine and allows me the luxuries of being alive and living, and also I would like to be kinder to it so my body and I can have more time being alive and living.

Today I went thrift shopping for jeans because I have no pants and it’s getting cold. I found a pair I was content with. I was willing to spend the six bucks on something now that I didn’t love, but liked enough. Turns out the blue tag was 99 cents today. Score! Turns out too that once home, I really love the jeans. And I’d like to think it doesn’t matter….but it was a comfort still to know that they’re a size 12. Maybe it’s not irrevocable after all.

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I don’t want to wait.

tec

I had this moment today where I realized I had had three constructively successful days in a row. And I wanted to take a picture of the meal I was making, but then I got self-conscious about my vegetables and chicken and rice and then I spiraled a little.

Later I made the decision to eat ice cream. And it’s totally cool that I changed my mind and decided something. I’m all for the lessons. But it felt a little too sabotaging and unnecessary.

Afterwards I was doing the dishes and thought “You made the decision. You weren’t supposed to make decisions. The whole point is to not make decisions. You made the decision this morning and your only responsibility was to follow through.”

So….no rough feelings about the decision. And also, decision making right now is more to my detriment than to my well being. It feels good to connect those dots.