frustration, despair, hope, repeat....<3

That seems to be the pattern.
Knowing there's a pattern is beneficial, eh?
Shows us "proof" that time is sometimes our best ally.
Good stuff going on this week.
Can't perform well unless i'm healthy.
So just gotta do it....one foot in front of the other.
Monday is clean slate day!

tabla erasa

it's monday. and i seem to have been having a pity party for a week. but after having taken account of all my blessings and including my new body that is healthy and disease free - albeit bigger than i am currently comfortable with...i've decided that today is a new day and a fresh start. So.....i'm having a healthy breakfast - going to follow my meal plan and write everything down today. After bkfst i'm taking my dog with me and going for a brisk walk in the beautiful sunshine! Then a shower and off to see my nutritionist, whom i miss, and with whom i shall discuss my plans and goals.

tomorrow i'm running a blood drive for my kid's school and community, so I have to finish doing as much prep for that is necessary the rest of today. All and all, i am feel fresh, renewed, re-committed and worthwhile of all the (self) love and work needed to get me to a safer, stronger, healthier place.

Carpe Diem! xoxo t

Hope is a four letter word

i planned out and used symptoms yesterday. i've actually used everyday for the past 5 days i think. i have been communicating with another woman from my group who is also in a bad place and i laughed that we are like the blind leading the blind. she's lost hope. i haven't lost hope. maybe i never had any. but i think i have. yeah, i totally have...and do at times. i guess i'm more in a lack of trust place - which is always my common theme. my nutritionist and i have settled on a calorie level that is supposed to help me stabilize - but i still don't want to do it. It's not fast enough for ED. ED wants to restrict until we can't stand the hunger any longer, and then B&P and restrict all over again. That's my cycle. Works well for me - my body starts eating away at itself quickly and the fluff just magically melts away. Not good, i know. Eating my muscle first, leaving me dizzy, dehydrated, stupid electrolyte levels, flirting with cardiac "situations". How is it that my comfort zone can be somewhere so dangerous? Seems similar to the definition of insanity, doesn't it?

Well, today i'm going to the NIN/Jane's Addiction show with my friends. They gave me a tix for my b-day. Supposed to be sunny. I'm worried about being the fattest one among all the skinny rockers there. Terrible that i find comfort in knowing that there are a lot of fat "goth" folks who will be there for NIN. Relieves the stress from my mind at the moment. At least it won't be so hot i have to wear shorts. Jeans it is....whew!

sorry this is dark - i hate putting up that side of me. i'd rather write/say/act all "shiny, happy, people holding hands" all the time. But that's not very realistic, nor is it healthy or helpful. so i'm trying to write the good, the bad and the ugly. so help me god.

Broken

i'm in a really bad place. i don't want to be - i'm doing all i can to try and be positive. but my body image and how i feel about being heavier is controlling the emotional reins in my soul at the moment. i feel angry. and tired. angry that i am so profoundly controlled by this disease. exhausted in a lifelong, 28 year battle of fighting it...fighting myself. wishing i could just be a "normal" girl, without weight issues, over-examination of myself, rational thoughts of body image and perhaps even a mind free and confident enough to believe i am worth so much MORE than what i look like. And though deep inside i do know that, there is always this threshold of belief...where self worth and value become muddled with self esteem and vanity.
i am sad. i am tired. i am angry. i am broken.
i have a beautiful, wonderful, abundant life and because of this stupid, horrible disease, i am unble to fully live it. and i'm just so tired of fighting. really. the outside world (meaning the ED free/addictionless masses) have no idea how exhausting it is inside our minds. What it is like to fight this demon day in and day out....happy when we defeat it, giddy when we follow it, sad when we listen to it, uncomfortable when we are without it. Its all so convoluted and gray and swirled into a muddled mess of emotion and self doubt and anger....that its hard to see the light sometimes. Is there any light? People claim there is, and i've felt fleeting moments of its clarity and calmness before - but its never lingered too long. i want an ED-ectomy.
and i hate summer, i've decided. and i look romantically back at last summer, when i was the sickest and the thinnest and wore bikinis and tiny little sundresses and felt so confident and sexy - even though i could blink my eyelashes and pass out from exertion. why is that so romantic? why do i want to live that way again? it's so empowering, that's why. but why does it have to be a choice? why isn't it easier to choosy healthy me over sick me? it should be easy, no? it would be an easy choice for a non-diseased person. and it's easy to encourage those around us who are like me. yeah....i should really change the name of the blog to narcissistic masochist. Ha! Say that ten times fast.

Dia de las Madres

Happy Mother's Day to all the lovely women in my life. It doesn't matter if you are an actual mother or not. Just being a daughter of Mother Nature is all we need to be collective Mothers in the Universe. Women...we are something really special. Crazy sometimes for sure....(hahaha) but strong and amazing and talented and beautiful beyond belief in so many ways.

i have soooooooo many wonderful women in my life. i think having lost my own mother so young, i was blessed by the Universe with the gift of attracting, recognizing and nurturing really amazing friendships with some outstanding women throughout my life. My own mother had much to do with many of these connections as well. My mom was a farm girl from South Dakota who married a Naval officer to get the heck out of there. She was so proud of me for being brave enough at 18 to move to the East Coast alone following the band i loved so much (bonus points if you know who that was) and for being secure enough to follow my dreams and take that chance. But really, now that i look back, she was hardly any different. Sadly, she married a man who wasn't the right match for her to get out...but she had me and my brother and ended up building an independent life she was proud of. She was very open minded and forward thinking...so far ahead of her time. After divorcing my Dad in 1980, she put herself through grad school and got her MSW. She started out in geriatrics, working for a hospice organization first and then VNA. She was on the board for Planned Parenthood and won many awards for her services for that organization - which at 12 or 13 - I had no idea the kind of meaningful and important work she did. When AIDS started to really raise its ugly head in Spokane, she shifted her focus to that and became one of the most preeminent social workers in the field. She immersed herself in the field and the heart-ache that accompanied it. All her clients were very sick, in so much pain and their lives falling apart around them. Mostly still gay men at the time, she stood in as the "best man" many wedding ceremonies, ate meals with their families, helped them with pain mgmt, lack of benefits and most importantly...to gather the last tragic bits of their lives and their dignity during a time of much prejudice, anger and shame. I don't know how you social workers or home health care workers do it. It's such a heart breaking career. But one that is sooooooo important and under-valued (and underpaid) by society. i know i couldn't do it. Anyway, because of my mother and her open mind and heart, my brother and i were given opportunities to know so many wonderful people far beyond the narrow confines of our teenage brains at the time, but whom i realize now were gifts that she created to surround us and help mold us long after she passed. Because of her, i have been adopted by so many strong, beautiful people whose descriptions include authors, artists, time travelers, witches, CEOs, psychic mediums, hippies turned activists....friends, mentors and many of whom are MOTHERS. So thank you, Mom! You were one of a kind. I am blessed to still have her mother here with me at age 91 and still in S.D. with whom i'm very close and for whom i am very grateful. She is a beautiful matriarch, great grandmother (my kids call her GG) and role model for my children - and although we're missing a generation with us on Earth - we're carrying on her message of love. And for that, i feel so blessed.

So thank you and Happy Mother's Day to all you lovely, beautiful women in my life. You know who you are! Your love, support, and commaraderie make (me and) the world go 'round.

xoxoxoxox t

*picture of an Iris that my daughter looked up on Wiki this morning. Irises were my mom's fave flower and last year i planted rhizomes for her in my yard and they are about to bloom, either today or tomorrow. Which, as my daughter pointed out, is just perfect for Mother's Day! It is, isn't it????? Life is a beautiful thing...enjoy it!

Inside my head

is a scary place to be
i wish i could get out of here
take me hostage....please!
save me from myself
don't worry that way
i'll get through this dark moment
with every peak there is a valley
where the sunlight shines warm upon my face
and although i'm crawling upwards
(okay, maybe sideways)
i sometimes get stuck in the confines of ED
a personal hell of vanity and contradiction
a slave to something wicked and cruel
Something so shallow,
it goes against all that in which i believe
for everything and everyone else
but there are different standards for me
no forgiveness or understanding or slack
and i hate that recovery is so hard
every minute of every day of every week
it is overwhelming at times
And oh how i hate that i'd rather be SICK and skinny
than 15 lbs up and a size or two bigger
AND healthy!!!!
*sighs*
but deep inside, part of me still wants that
the mean, scrutinizing, self depricating me
and she's in my head today
and alot lately, with a big LOUD voice
maybe that's why i love rock-n-roll so much
it drowns the bad voices out
and makes me happy and ALIVE in the moment
which is a lovely thing
a very beautiful thing

Howdy y'all!

i just returned from a lovely spring break vacation in San Antonio with my family! What a beautiful city full of the loveliest people you'd ever want to meet. The town is very friendly, super clean, easier to get around and full of life and love. We stayed at the Drury Inn on the Riverwalk and it was just perfect. Two pools, a great breakfast buffet and free drinks and appies each night for happy hour. We went to The Alamo, The Tower of the Americas and Sea World. Each was a wonderful experience. We didn't rent a car, which was a first for us, but I was glad we didn't. This is a walking city - almost everywhere can be traveled to by foot and the paths around the Riverwalk are just gorgeous, decorated by waterfalls, beautiful vegetation and lots of festive and pretty restaurants, shops and hotels. The weather couldn't have been more perfect - in the 80s all days except Thursday where it was 95! Luckily, we were at Sea World that day so we got lots of splashes from the shows and rides.

There was Bar-B-Q and tex-mex food galore - and the tequila flowed like water. i tried to not stress over it all. Tried to drink more than i ate, and not worry about the clothes (and me) not looking like i would want them to. It was my first time in summer clothes since the hospital, and the preparation for the trip (clothes wise) was a bit stressful. Some of it was as bad as i expected and some of it was okay - not any of it "great" - but okay. Obviously, none of my sick clothes fit anymore at all. And my jeans have been a big source of stress lately as i've been feeling (to put it nicely) very large. So, i decided that spring break would be a jeans-free zone. I didn't bring any on the trip. I brought only shorts (longish ones) and sundresses and it was cool for the most part. I did have to tackle the swimsuit issue, and forced myself to do it for my family. I swam with the kids every single day, sometimes twice a day and although a bit uncomfortable with my fluffier self, i did it.

And yes, Ed was on vacation with us too. And now that my husband knows about it, Ed tries to pull him into our conversations. Is my butt as big as her butt? Is she bigger or smaller than me? Hubby would even catch me looking and analyzing myself or someone else and would know, before i said anything that Ed was mind-fucking me again...and would pull me over into his arms and say "Stop it right now! You are beautiful. Stop sabotaging yourself. I love you." Yes, i'm a lucky woman to have him. And i could see how wearing it was for him to now be hyper aware of the sickness in my head...that is my life. And sometimes when i would say sick words, i could feel the dismay about him wondering how in the hell i could possibly think like this so much of the day. Of course, little does he know...i only let out one tiny little fraction of those sicko thoughts HAHAHA! But i lived. i made it through my first "recovery" vacation. i'm still symptom free and alive :-) And i have lovely memories of playing in the pool with my kids and sharing margaritas with my husband, rather than dark, icky memories of disordered behaviors.

That's one giant victory for me, and one enormous defeat for ED!
YaY me!!!

Now i'm back from the vaca and slowly sinking back into normal mode. We had a low key Easter, as we're recovering Catholics and aren't raising our children Christian - so it was just an Easter Basket/Bunny thing in the a.m. and we made a small family dinner last night. Kids weren't ready to go back to school this morning, but i sure was ready for them to go! i got over to my nutritionist's office where we talked about my first vacation in recovery, the challenges, the triumphs, etc. Then i went to the gym and worked out hard and feel really happy that i did. YAY!!!

I hope you had a good holiday and are feeling strong.

TGIF - and warm!!!!

Yep, it feels like spring today. Going to be 63 and sunnyish. I'll take it - and am loving it already today. Rode the kids to school on bikes and then came home and zipped over to make my fave spin class of the week. But Rachel, our reg Friday instructor wasn't there - and it was another who is very nice, but is like a gerbil on speed. She's definitely got issues - and it was her second spin class of the day and then she was training with someone on weights and then she talked about running 1.5 miles each way to pick up her daughter from school (3 miles total - all hill work). I mean really....that's just not normal. Don't get me wrong, i've BEEN there! But i'm not there now, nor do i want to go back. Plus she always talks about calories and how you can burn more. I wish they'd really just shut the hell up and lead the class sometimes. But I pushed really hard in class - and it felt great. Then i grabbed a cup of coffee and met my good friend at her job, a record label, where she told me that they were all told they'd be let go in May'ish. She just relocated from the Germany office, and she has lots of connections and opps. One of them is starting her own gig, which I may go in on. We'll see. But anyway....i feel badly because i know everyone in the office and many of the bands on the label. These are hard times, for sure.

I got real pissed at a friend of mine the other day who put on her facebook account that she was pissed that the House passed the 90% Bonus taxation bill. This, mind you, only affects those companies who accepted TARP money to bail them out. And it's only for families who make more than $250,000 annually. I reminded her of this, and she said YAY, lucky me, i work for Citigroup. Yeah - well (i wanted to say) fucking count your blessings cuz you 1) still have a job, 2) make a quarter million bucks or more a year, and 3) that's TAXPAYER money you don't deserve to keep...so shut the fuck up!

I have so many friends out of work. Friends going into foreclosure on their homes. People that are going to be okay - but times are tough. So it's really sad to me that she's so selfish and unaffected by the world to actually make a public complaint about that. *sigh*

Then there is that horribly tragic story about that family whose plane crashed in Montana going to ski with their grandparents. I watched one of the other family members (a father on the other side) on the Today show this morning. Those poor people - they lost 13 of their family members all at once. And like the man talked about today, the pilot is being villianized rather than mourned for like he should. Evidently, the media is saying that the plane was overloaded, but in reality it was not over weight because 7 of the passengers were small children. My heart goes out to all the remaining family - this must be beyond devastating, and another reminder that tomorrow is never promised to us, so we have to live engaged lives today!

So let's regroup - refocus. Life is hard, but it is beautiful. Let's remember what is really important. Let's be thankful for our health and the love in our lives. Let's live in the MOMENT, build the love and share it with the world....and smile like there's no tomorrow, because we never know what's around the next corner so make today matter.

Peace and Love to you all.....
xoxoxoxo t

Prozac Nation

Yeah, i'm loving the prozac right now. It seems to have helped me this month - after complaining to my Doc about really bad PMS depression over the past few months. This depression has seemed to have crept up over the past 6 mos, my hormones regulating themselves after decades of using behaviors is playing some tricks on my body and brain. Anyway, the last couple of moon cycles have been wicked and the most recent (a month ago) put me back into the throws of ED. With 3 full weeks of b&p, isolating and panic over my body image. I gave into ED's convincing that He could help me lose the 5 or 10 lbs in a few weeks if I let him in again for a bit. Well, of course...it didn't work. In fact, i actually gained a few lbs - got fluffier, felt none of the "high" i used to get when using my behaviors, only felt worse, worser and worsest. After confessing my sins to my nutritionist, and going to see Dr. D, he recommended that i double up on my prozac during only the week prior to my period. So i did that this month. i still felt the physical PMS symptoms, but the depression and severe body image issues did not seem as bad at all. I got thru the bad week and moved on feeling stronger and happier about that and myself!

Yeah, i think that was my last 'bout with ED. I'm not saying he won't always be around. We all know that it will be a never ending battle with him. But, I don't think i'll be so quick to hand over my life to him again. I "proved" to myself again that He doesn't make me feel good. He makes me feel worse. Always. He is trying to kill me and after 27 yrs of his attempts, I know that I am stronger than him and I deserve to be happy and live my life as a happy person. And so i continue my fight. With my team and my support system and most importantly, with more faith in myself than ever. But its not something I can sleep on. It's something that requires constant work, engaged and active work. I read on facebook that a few more of my hospital friends are back in different programs again. So many have gone back. It makes me so sad. But honestly, the ones of us who keep working actively - i.e. going to see our outpatient team members faithfully every week - are the only ones getting better. You can't do it alone. It's too manipulative and easy to fall prey to the mindfucks and distortions it convinces you are reality.

So thank you to my loving team - thank you to you readers, for allowing me to express this and share my experience. And thank you to the Universe/God for allowing me another magical day in this beautiful, strong, healthy body. I am blessed.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

What a beautiful day it is here - sunny, brisk but the promise of spring is lofting through the air. The dog and I strolled early this morning for a few minutes and I was able to catch a spin class, which was so fun and exhilarating as I hadn't been in two weeks. As i was pushing thru the hills and hard paces, I would look down at my legs and give thanks for having a healthy stong body that works! Truly such a blessing. My father has Multiple Sclerosis and my mother died of cancer when she was 49, so often when i take my body for granted and realize it, I stop and make a point of feeling gratitude...for I know both of them would give anything to be able to ride a bike or even walk across the living room, for that matter. When I remember to give thanks for the simple things in life, the things we so often take for granted, it makes everything else seem that much better and more glorious.

Now I'm off to get some corned beef, cabbage and potatoes cooking for our family dinner this evening. Again, I feel blessed to have the beautiful, healthy, fun kids I have and such a wonderful loving husband that holds it all together like glue :-) Oooh, a sweet lovin' doggie too - can't forget my big ole lovebug! Sometimes i feel i'm the luckiest girl in the world. I hope you do too.

Enjoy your St. Patty's Day - smile and dream and live the love. *hugs*

spring cleaning

Why are there so few blogs about recovery and sooooooo many that talk about living such food/eating disordered lives? I'm going to try and be one of those that promotes living life WITHOUT eating disorders, in recovery, without a focus on food, meal plans, weight, sizes, etc. ED has stolen so much of my life - I don't want to give him anymore of it. Screw that. So...i shall remove any pro-ED blogs, friends, lifestyle influences from my life. And I am looking for help in finding pro-recovery support blogs to add to my reading lists. Please recommend any that you know of or follow.

I also need to find a good therapist in Central Jersey who works with improving body image and self esteem in her patients. If you know of anyone's name you could pass along, i'd be every so grateful.

other than that, it's a good day. I saw my psychiatrist (i go every 2 mos now) on Thursday and we talked about my recent spiral and depression and how it seems related to PMS every month. So for the next two months, we are going to try a new med schedule (actually doubling the anti-depressant i'm on now) for only the week before my period. i'm on my second day of the double dosage now, so we'll see if that indeed makes a difference with my depression and poor body image that seems to come with PMS. I also spoke with him about Dr. Stoler's lecture and her disappointing coverage about eating disorders and how she made vomit gestures/faces and her condescending tone, etc. As her former boss during this part of her education, he was disappointed and shocked that she would act out that way and when I told him of how she mentioned that "every once in a while she lets herself eat half a cheeseburger and even ONE of her daughter's french fries" we both chuckled and nodded in agreement over the ritualistic and disordered aspects that that statement is screaming out.

So, i'm kicking that asshole ED to the curb. The stronger I become, the more conniving and tricky he gets. Always looking for a way back into my life, into my head. Thank you for helping me heal and be stronger. We can beat this illness. I believe that. I believe in you and i believe in me. So get out there and LIVE in the moment. That's what it's all about!

Carpe Diem,
xoxo t

Dr. Stoler blows too much hot air!

My little town had a PTA sponsored lecture for students and parents at the HS last night. it was marketed as a "presentation on the nutrition of our children" featuring the famous (or at least in her own mind) nutritionist Dr. Felicia Stoler. i was actually excited that this was a public topic/forum and assumed that it HAD to include eating disorder information - so i contacted my nutritionist and she wanted to go with me. YAY

Wow, what a serious disappointment this woman was. The program should have been entitled "Sports Nutrition by an overly ritualistic and disordered-in-her-own-right megalomaniac nut". First, it took 3 people about 20 minutes just to read all all her credentials and work/job experiences (blah, blah, blah). And after all that blabbering and pomp and circumstance - she turned out to just read off her slides *yawn* and basically gave a presentation geared towards athletes and sports nutrition. Evidently, she works with a zillion organizations - among them (and believe you me, she mentioned every single one of them twice!) GNC, TLC, ABC, NYC Marathon. She had lots of opinions on how to fuel your body and hydrate before marathons and lacrosse matches - but when it came to her very brief, 5 min part of the presentation on eating disorders, this is where i really became uber disappointed, and by the end of her brief section...actually quite a bit infuriated and offended.

She started this section by rattling off "symptoms" of eating disorders in a most flippant and random manner....things to look for, notice, be cautioned by. Nothing significant regarding the issues related to, risks of or sources to help a parent, friend or actual disordered person him/herself. At one point, she actually performed for her audience the rudest gesture possible, as she mocked making herself vomit. Yeah, seriously. She stuck her fist in her mouth - well, close to her wide open mouth. As if the audience needed that demonstration. Thanks Felicia. Real classy.

During this entire section she was rude, crude and condescending. I pity the poor boy or girl who actually has the misfortune of walking blindly into this woman's office seeking help, cuz she'll certainly push them over the edge they are walking right then and there. She really does NOT get it. She talked about ED addicts needing an MD, a therapist and a nutritionist and in her own words, which i agree with. But then she continued on by stating that anyone who doesn't have all three is just a "risk to her practice" and not serious, so she simply cuts them loose. How kind she is, huh? How empathetic. nuh-uh. Not good.

Anyway, the hour and a half of diet and exercise information was nothing new to me. I've been on every fad diet she mentioned and condemned. After being hospitalized and counseled for nearly a year now for my EDs, I have learned much about nutrition and the physiology of the human body. I was quite surprised to hear that she'd actually interned at Somerset Medical Center in the EDU where i resided last summer. Did she learn nothing of the human condition whilst there? How the psychological effects of eating disorders can be debilitating and deadly? Was this not worthy of further dedication of time to all those kids and parents she had captive in the auditorium?

The silver lining of this event? Well, I am thrilled to know, after witnessing this presentation, that I have the very best team available to me. My nutritionist is NOTHING like Dr. Stoler - thank goodness!!!!! Mine actually CARES! She actually GETS IT! My nutritionist is smart, lovely, loving, caring, strong and able to actually help her patients...not with condescending judgement and simple "facts"...but rather with warm, self-esteem building guidance, education and genuine care. (Love you Donna!!!)

I started here, but I plan to write to the PTA at the school also. To have wasted such an opportunity that actually filled the HS auditorium with not only a big audience, but a bunch of hot air from a egotistical braggart, was truly a sin.

Aside from that, i'm in day 5 of good positive behavior. I'm sticking to my meal plan, staying positive, writing in my journal and here and visualizing a strong, healthy, beautiful (ED FREE) me! Carpe Diem! xoxoxo

It's the third day

since i've been clean again. i went thru a terrible cycle of using behaviors and cuddling up with ED again for a bit. a good three weeks it was. seems like it started with PMS and turned into a terrible cycle of depression, worse body image than normal and very low self esteem. i'm noticing the pattern, seems to do this every few weeks or so. Then i have a couple of weeks to "catch up" and it hits again. PMS i'm suspecting, blaming it on that old hag almost seems unconscionable, but as a peri-menopausal woman - who never had PMS symptoms much growing up, there is a pattern here. my nutritionist and I have been discussing it - how it waxes and wanes around the same time every month; which comes first the disease or the depression. having had this incorporated into my life and being for 27 yrs now, it's always hard to separate the two. the chicken and egg syndrome. Ha! food analogy - how fucking INappropriate. sorry. i see my psychiatrist on Thursday and i'll talk to him about it. Will he strengthen my Prozac level? i hope not - although the other alternative i see is going on b/c pills to assist level out my hormones and i'm not real fond of that idea either. So we'll see. But the point i do see as positive - as Donna pointed out - is that i went back to ED over the past three weeks. He told me, come back...i'll get you skinny again. And i binged and purged and i starved and then B&Pd again and again and i became dehydrated and my skin got bad and i got dizzy again and i got more and more depressed and my jeans got tighter and tighter, not skinnier. So then he said "no more food! back to minimal (500) calories and you'll exercise 2 hrs a day. That's what you did last summer and it worked. Your skinny Diesel jeans will be hanging off of you in no time. But that didn't happen. I told my husband how dark i was, how deep i had gotten back in. He reminded me how much happier I am when i'm not using behaviors - when nutrition is paramount and i am free to focus on the blessings in my life. Enjoying my family, my beautiful children, my wonderful job that i adore...nature, love, laughter, life...all so much more beautiful when i don't let ED rule me. He said to me "You know what you have to do. You know what works!" And i do. The key for me is my meal plan and normal exercise. That's it. Easy peasy. And this weight will come off again. And i'll be back in control and living blissfully once more. So that's what i learned. That was the lesson this 3 week binge taught me. You can't go back for ever one day. There's no free passes - it's all BAD. And if you don't die - then feel god damn lucky you get another chance. And i do. Thank DOG. :-)

So i'm here, in day three...the magic number from Schoolhouse Rock.
Pray for me - i'm sending you peace, hope, love and strength.
Carpe Diem! xoxoxo

i'm stuck

and struggling
spiraling
and using
again
i worry about how gianormous i am as a size 8
and how much i weigh (haven't been allowed to know since Oct)
when there are real issues in the world
how fucking pathetic
wish there was a "just get the fuck over it already" pill
i loathe my weakness
i am so strong for everyone but me
why am i'm so broken

little girl found

today, the little girl tip-toed out of the shadows and spoke
she admitted to being afraid
she said outloud that she wanted someone to take care of her
she admitted she wasn't as strong as she may have acted all along
this event was quite unintentional
she tried to suck her back in and keep her quiet
but the little one snuck out anyway and squeaked quietly in her tiny little voice
while skipping thru the tearsdrops and the pain and sadness
past the shame and the anger and the darkness of her own hollow reflection
Let her speak, she said...you must finally let her speak.
allow her a life, a soul of her own
the time she deserves to be a child, helpless and small
let her breathe, let her grieve, let her hold your hand when she is afraid
and try as i might to ignore her, she is strong too. stronger than me sometimes.
and when i keep her locked away, deep inside....she tears at my heart, and my soul
like she has for so long
being punished for no reason, really
but for everything, actually
and so it is
i let her speak
just this once, for now...
but please, would you hold my hand?

We are a community

“We are all longing to go home to some place we have never been — a place half-remembered and half-envisioned we can only catch glimpses of from time to time. Community. Somewhere, there are people to whom we can speak with passion without having the words catch in our throats. Somewhere a circle of hands will open to receive us, eyes will light up as we enter, voices will celebrate with us whenever we come into our own power. Community means strength that joins our strength to do the work that needs to be done. Arms to hold us when we falter. A circle of healing. A circle of friends. Someplace where we can be free." -Starhawk

Repost from Oct. 24, 2008

this has been a rough week for me. my ED voice has been roaring loud...begging for me to come back, restrict and use bad behaviors. You're getting fat, he tells me...and despite having given up my scale a month ago in Program, i went to the gym for the first time yesterday and couldn't resists it's call to me. it was not a good thing to do. i am heavier than i suspected - past my "scary" number - way past what i went into the hospital at. Yeah, my jeans and clothes all fit just fine. People tell me i look good, better than when i was admitted, even though i'm almost 10 lbs heavier now. i was telling Pyx yesterday, in hysterics, that at that moment, i'd rather be sick and a smaller number, than healthy and a bigger number. My skinny jeans still fit? I don't even "get" that! i feel like a house....giant and flabby and horrible and unattractive. All because I got on that stupid piece of machinery. And not only did i get on that scale, I hated that number so much and was convinced that it MUST BE WRONG....that I ran downstairs to the other locker room and weighed myself on that scale too. Same shitty number! i got very depressed. Decided not to eat the rest of the day. Called all my supporters and talked to them about my knowing insanity and intent of sabotage. They all told me the right stuff - but it didn't work. I was so convinced that I am disgusting because of that number that I couldn't even really absorb it. I wanted to wallow. I wanted to numb out. i wanted to self destruct at a deafening rate. all bad things.

why is a stupid number so important to me? why does my entire self-esteem depend on that number? why, no matter how many people tell me the right things, do i only hear ED sometimes? And why, even though i'm very intelligent, educated, exp'd and motivated to be healthy...why is it that sometimes the only "person" i can truly hear is ED?

Well, i got up today on the right side of the bed Happy, motivated, positive and determined to stay healthy and choose life. I've eaten my breakfast, written in my journal and rubbed my touchstone that says LIFE on one side and TRUST on the other - both of which are crucial choices in my recovery. i'm not writing all of this to bum you out, or in search of any kind of pity. Please.....that's so NOT what i want to do here. But maybe this helps me to write about it. Maybe i'll help someone else who doesn't understand why this happens to them, or to the one they love or care about. Maybe this is just a written "purge" or public admittance of my sins. I am a recovery Catholic, remember. Old habits are hard to break! LOL

Anyway, thank god it's Friday. It's getting COLD and the leaves are falling and so beautiful. The air is crisp and my "baby" scorpio girl turns 8! I can hardly believe it! She is so beautiful and sweet and huggable and bright. I'm so lucky to be her mommy. We made cupcakes last night and she brought them in to class today. And I also get to attend "pumpkin day" in my son's first grade class this afternoon. There will be pumpkin pie, ice cream, bread, cake (mine) and seeds....a perfect afternoon for a struggling eating disorder parent! HAHAHA

Have a great weekend! Grow the love and pass it around....xoxo

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.
- Mary Oliver

Beatae Memoriae

today was her service
i couldn't say goodbye, i'm still in shock and disbelief i think
in group therapy we shed many tears
some were angry, some were quiet
i was numb and couldn't stop crying for the entire hour, or day for that matter
there were people there who admitted they were jealous that she succeeded in death
this is a fucking twisted and sick disease
the winner of the game (the best ED addict) is the dead one
sadly, my friend H won this time
but there will be many more, probably even from my group
but i don't want to be that kind of winner
and i'm all numbed out from the xanax
and i am all cried out for this moment
even though the tears always find me again
i am empty and numb and guilty and sad and angry and confused and hurting
i want her back
i want to hug her again and tell her she's beautiful, inside and out
and i wish i could have saved her
but i can only save me

Rest in Peace sweet girl

She was only 32 years old and one of the characters from my story. The daughter of a famous cardiac surgeon. God, such morose irony. She started restricting when she was only 7! So much pressure. Too much for her to handle. A brilliant girl - an honors student, member of MENSA, champion show horse jumper and the mother of a beautiful 8 year old boy. The light of her life.

And what a sense of humor. She had me and all of us there in constant stitches. We fed off each other's energy. Laughing, crying, hugging. We were in the facility together for both our children's first day of school. We were filled with guilt and shame and shed many regretful tears together that day. We learned how to knit together. I even went out on pass and bought big fat knitting needles and beautiful soft, fluffy yarn for us both to learn from another sweet girl. And what fun we had, even there - amidst the dark reality of the present moments shared. We were goofy and smart and sad together - sharing the common thread of a life long disease.

Her story with me started when she had a heart attack and was admitted into the ICU at age 32, 5'6" tall and weighing about 90 lbs. There she remained for 6 days, being tube fed and receiving intravenous packs of potassium before they moved her to the EDU. That's when we met. I was admitted two days after her. And that's we became fast friends. She ran a nightclub in my town (small world, eh) and i manage a band. We shared dreams of future playdates with our kids and girls nights out with cosmos, rock and roll and lots of laughs.

A couple of weeks later, I was getting better though, and she was not. We parted ways, temporarily, when i was discharged from inpatient and moved across the hall during the days to do intensive outpatient. We'd blow kisses and send love in little secret waves through the glass panes of the hospital doors. And a few days later she was transferred to a residential facility where they expected her to remain for several months, healing. I spoke to her the day she was transferring. I told her i was worried about her. She was very depressed and losing her will to live. She was angry and frustrated and ashamed that her eating disorder was out of control. I calmed her and told her it was okay and that she'd find her strength to beat this. She had to, it was not optional.

I didn't know then that it would be our last conversation.

i found out last night that my friend died in a hospital near there 6 days later. Another heart attack - fatal this time. Her mind had been taken by the disease long before her body though. But not her soul...her soul ached so much to be a good Mommy. A good daughter and wife and friend. She was so very generous and nurturing and sweet to everyone but herself. And i find it impossible almost to believe she's gone. Only days ago she told me she loved me on the phone. And even though i knew how very very sick she was, i believed i'd see her again. But i won't. ED took her from us and from her son and her family...her father, the heart surgeon.

This isn't part 2 of my story. This is a tragic reality i am trying to process. i feel empty and devastated and scared and so damn angry. It's really, really beyond fucked up.

H - I hope you found peace my beautiful, sweet sister. our time together may have been short, but it was so colorful and intense and passionate. i shall be sure that you did not die in vain. i promise you that.

Sweet dreams lil one...may flights of angels sing thee to thy rest
xoxoxoxoxoxo

little girl lost

When i checked myself in, i was so scared. i thought i'd be the oldest and the fattest. i thought i'd be the only mom with little kids. i thought only girls struggled with eating disorders. i thought i'd have my disease the longest at 28 years and counting. sadly, i was wrong on every single preconceived notion i'd had.

there are only two hospitals in my state that have inpatient Eating Disorder Units. there are 14 beds in the EDU of the hospital i was in. it's a confidential unit. only first names are used, really. my therapist and husband had intervened to ask me to check into one a month before i did. i promised to get better, try harder, begged them to give me one more chance. and so i did. i tried harder to lose 15 more pounds before being admitted. i didn't eat at all. well, i restricted to 500 calories a day, but then would exercise enough to at least burn off 750-1000, so my body was literally eating the muscles i was working. sometimes i swear i could feel it happening when i laid real still at night. when you starve your body, your mind does crazy, terrible things. i was an emotional roller coaster, up, down high and low. the pendulum was swinging more and more erratically and i was in a very dark, empty place. my mind played sick tricks. the addiction to this behavior is alluring because we crave the control, we need it to exist in our daily lives. somewhere along the line it became our coping mechanism - the singular way in which we handled all the chaos around us. everyone thinks its about the physical body. about the food. about the pressure to be thin. it doesn't start out that way. those become symptoms of something much deeper and darker. and we're good hiders. we've hidden our disease for so long. its easy in the beginning. but the deeper we fall into the abyss, the more embedded the lies become to our mere existence. they are us and we are them. there no longer lies a distinction, we don't know who we are without our eating disorder. it gains a voice and life of its own.

i had hit rock bottom when i checked in that day. i couldn't stop crying, i was bingeing and purging twice a day and not eating the rest of the time. my children were posturing themselves not to upset me, i.e. make me cry or angry. i couldn't make simple decisions, my brain was clouded and dark. i had started "cutting" for relief and that scared me...and my husband and therapist and friends who knew. and i was in real physical trouble. so dehydrated that my potassium and sodium levels were low enough to put me into cardiac arrest (of course i didn't know that until i was tested at the hospital). And i was so dizzy from the dehydration that every time i sat down and stood up, even slowly, i would go black - taking several moments to regain my sight and equilibrium. a few times i fell down even, and lied to those around me about being clumsy or something goofy. i started calling the hospitals to seek help. Doing interviews on the phone - telling my shameful secret that was literally now consuming me from the inside out. MY control mechanism that had taken over my control. controlled me. This one agreed to have me in the next morning for an evaluation. Once I did that, they wanted to admit me right away, but there was a wait list! Ha! A wait list to get a bed in an Eating Disorder Unit. 5 days they said. I begged them for sooner, i might not make it til day 5. Thank god, they called me two days later and off i went. Got there, did all the physical check-in procedures, and then my insurance company refused to admit me. they claimed i hadn't done enough outpatient work to warrant inpatient care. they often do this, especially with bulimics since we often look pretty normal, generally weighing an average amount, normal BMI, flying under the radar easily. but bulimics die faster than anorexics, generally. Heart attacks, ruptured esophaguses...you've heard me say it over and over again now. i am LUCKY!

i knew if i left the hospital that day, i'd never come back. my husband and children had dropped me off. my kids thought i was "going on a retreat to learn how to take better care of myself and be a better Mommy". hey, it wasn't untrue. My younger sibling was flying in from across the country to help take care of my children during my absence. took off work, leaving his partner to deal with all the business. It would take me a minimum of two weeks inpatient to "break the cycle" they said. I was going to miss my children's first day of school, first soccer match, swim lessons and dance classes. But i knew that if i didn't get help now, i'd die and leave them without a mommy - missing every major event in their lives and robbing all of us of a life full of the beautiful love we share. And so....i had to move forward, like it or not. And since my insurance company wasn't cooperating, i was offered me two options by the hospital. i could go home and they would work with the insurance company and let me know the verdict OR i could check myself in as self-pay (at $1200 per night) and let my Doc fight for me, with the added the ammo that i wanted to get better so much i wouldn't leave. I chose the latter.

But it wasn't really a choice. I knew if i left, i'd never come back.
at least not walking.

The first post is the deepest....

Body dismorphic disorder.....that's what they call it. ya know, when you see yourself in a completely different way than others see you, or as is reality. we all have moments when we think we look bad...or conversely, really good. but this is the thing that gets eating disordered people crazy. when the 90lb girl thinks she looks chubby or even fat, even knowing how wrong this was. and there are varying degrees of it, just like anything else. i didn't think i had it at all til i was in the hospital - ha! no, i'm a good 15 lbs heavier than when i was admitted there. i can see the good and bad in my physical self since then. the bad is that sometimes my "skinny" jeans are tight now. and the muffin-top creeps over the waistband. all my jeans were hanging off of my when i was admitted. as was my skin. when you are so severely dehydrated like that, your flesh is no longer supple or plumpish. you're body eats away at itself and uses every bit of its resources to save itself. dehydration is really the biggest threat. that's when your electrolytes get messed up and out of whack so bad that your heart's functioning power gets sketchy. the potassium packs they administer via IV hurt BAD. and the rehydration process takes days. every single time you stand up, or even stand from sitting position you about pass out. the blackness, the dizzy feeling...and on top of all of that your brain chemicals are so messed up that you are super emotional. angry, sad, depressed, afraid. and in the hospital they feed you. and it's forced. and it's monitored. you have to lick the cover of the yogurt container - every single calorie is accounted for. and you sit there like cattle being fed before slaughter...and in 16 hrs of therapy a day. and everyone, no matter how beautiful you think they are - or how underweight - or even how ill looking they are...is envious of the skinniest one. And when the new admits come in, and we've all been feeding at the trough for days....a terrible triggering effect ripples through the floor. Competition and rage. Doesn't matter how sick s/he is or how young or old or close to death. We all still want to be that thin again. and many of us would be.....and some of us died trying.
i'm not sure why i'm writing this stuff today. guess i needed to get it out. i think i was bothered by a conversation i had with my roommate from the hospital last night. They have a support group on Tuesdays, which i attended religiously for months after my release. But when you are released, they ensure you have an outpatient team to see. You see the psychiatrist that admitted you monthly, and a therapist and a nutritionist weekly. The therapist takes care of your mental needs and addictions and the nutritionist works with you on the ED related stuff, more specifically. What you are actually eating or not. What's working or not. Exercise, patterns, behaviors, monitoring your weight, etc. We're not allowed to own scales you know. And that was really hard to give up when you are used to weighing yourself 10-15 times a day. And yes, you don't need to tell me how dumb that is....i know. But even when you know, you can't stop yourself from doing it. But we find them everywhere. At the gym, in our doctor's offices, at Bed Bath & Beyond. I haven't known my weight now for about 4 mos. I think that was the last time i cheated and got on the scale at the gym. And it calls me everytime i walk by it. But i know i can't get on cuz it'll throw me off track and maybe even into an ED spiral for days. But i can't go to the hospital support group anymore. I go to one thru my nutritionist's office. My friends from the hospital are all on facebook and i see their struggles. But they aren't working the program either. They haven't decided yet, truly made the decision that they want to live MORE than they want to be thin. Being thin is still their main focus in life. And i gave up that main focus. I mean, don't get me wrong....i would still LOVE to be smaller, tighter and better. But now i'm trying to work on being HEALTHY and that's a big difference. But i struggle some days. Yesterday i struggled alot. Yesterday was bad. But the difference is that now, i forgive myself and start over. Recovery is never perfect - but i do have hope. i want it. i need it. Living a "normal" existence is so alluring to me. And last night was the hospital support group. And many of them always call me, every Tuesday "Are you coming tonight?" they ask. No....i'm not. Finally last night, after my old roommate told me how badly she is struggling, i said to her..."i'm sorry, i love you all...but i can't go to that group anymore. it's triggering and filled with bad energy and intentions, and as much as i care for you all...i can't do it anymore." She was silent. And i know that they need to find their own way. Hit their own bottom and pull their way back out of the holes they are in toward the sunlight again. But of the 14 of us that were in the hospital together, one is dead, at least 3 are close to death, 5 that i know of are heavily back into their diseases again - both the men are really sick again and they were some of my biggest inspirations during my inpatient time - and there a at least 5 or 6 (maybe more) that have been re-hospitalized or placed in a long term residential program since Sept. And one of the is a bloody nutritionist for godsakes!

So i have been pulling away from them all bit by bit. I wanted to be supportive in the beginning and help and talk everyday and send them love notes and texts. But i can't do it anymore. It really tugs at my heart to turn away like this. But its self preservation. They haven't decided to LIVE yet. And oh god, it's so hard to do that! I just told my husband last night, after being knee deep in ED shit all day...that sometimes, even though i know how horrible it is, and how bad it makes me feel...i just want to be there again. Sick and hungry and weak and angry and dizzy. Because i did it for so long, the allure of being there again is like going home. And i know this hurts those who love me. i'm sorry. I don't mean to hurt you, or myself. But recovery ain't perfect. And i'm working really hard at it, please know this. And unlike all those from the hospital that are still sick or back in the hospital again...i have unwaveringly seen my team since my release. I go every single week. And i trust them and they are giving me the tools and motivation to stay on track. And my support group now is full of people who are in recovery. I mean, we all have our moments of struggle. But for the most part, everyone is dedicated to healing. To living a happy life and letting ED go. And that's the difference. I must see the hope. I must see those who have done it and hug them and absorb their strength and allow their light to shine into my shadowy crevices where ED still lurks.

yet, i feel guilty for those i am leaving behind. lost little lambs. but i can't be their shepard. i can only save myself - and that's hard enough