Biggest Girl in the Room

I often think I'm the biggest girl in the room. Today, I watched a girl I know who has an eating disorder go through the ritual of unwrapping a pack of crackers. Her mannerisms were...interesting. I've done the same sort of thing many times myself when actively dieting. I created rituals to make the process take more time, be more involved, and God only knows why else. I sure don't have it all figured out. It certainly struck a cord with me to watch her. I have a feeling she has also felt like shes the biggest girl in the room. Which makes me think of something else.

I don't WANT to be the one that sticks out in the crowd. Now I think I do stick out in the crowd for being fat, but perhaps the eating/weight gain was related to wanting to hide. However, one of my reasons for wanting to be skinny is to blend in. Hmm. Isn't that ironic? I don't think I losing weight is going to solve all of my problems, or that life is suddenly going to be sunshine and roses. On the contrary, I think I felt worse while I was part of weight watchers. The initial momentum and loss created som euphoria. That was the fun part...but then it wore off. And overall, I felt worse. It was hard work. I had a lot left to lose, body distortion problems, and had lost my favorite coping mechanism.

The idea, of course, is to develop new and improved coping mechanisms. My head gets it. Boy does my head get it. My head is freakin' sick of getting it and not knowing how to follow through. My heart is horrified at the weight gain. If I am developing new and improved coping mechanisms, then why the gaining? I think the therapist would say the disordered thinking is fighting back. Sure it is, it's so deeply ingrained WTF am I (or it) supposed to do? We are entwined. I'm not this eating disorder, and I do think I'm able to recover fully.

In the last year, there have been a number of times where I'm unable to finish a plate of food. This is way out of character for me. To be therapeutic, it's the eating disorder made me do it. Now I'm finding that more and more often I can't finish a plate. That's happened at least 3-4 times this week. I'm bewildered. This big part of me seems to be getting smaller and smaller. I don't know what's going to take it's place. It's scary and more than ever I feel vulnerable, raw, and wide open. A piece of me is leaving, missing, and there is nothing in it's place.

Not my problem

DS's biomom called me last night. She believes DS is holding a grudge against her and that he needs to get over it. What a self-serving selfish biotch! She portrayed herself as the victim in all of this, completely ignoring the fact that she's the one who is responsible for his pain in the first place. Then she comes to me for support. DS shared with us a comment that she made about us. It wasn't negative. It just showed how very threatened by us she really is. I find the mother bear instinct rising up to defend my cub.

I got the impression she wanted me to validate her feelings. I think she wanted me to help her 'gang up' on DS. The problem (for her) is that I don't care how horrible she feels. Plus, DS knows how to get rid of her. She puts too much of her guilt on him and he either can't tell her how he feels or he takes on too much of her guilt. For him, it sucks. He has no voice left. The little comments about us don't help either, he's automatically put in the middle. So he does what always worked to get her to back off--he acts like a jerk. She falls into line, plays the victim and boo hoos to anyone who will listen and blames it all on him. She could choose to give him the space a 16 year old boy wants. She could choose to let him come to her but can't because she's just too CLINGY!

While I hope he could be able to tell her how he feels, she's still not going to listen. She can't possibly hear him. I'm not going to try and make him either. I think he needs to talk to someone other than friends and other than us about all of this. I think he's healthy enough to do one on one counseling. Now if I can convince him...I'd like for him to consider medication again too, winter is so hard for him. Plus he's mentioned that he's been feeling depressed at other times, like mot of the summer. He wants to blame it on the other kids--but that just ain't the case. I doubt if he understands all of the reasons why he's so down.

My poor sweetie.

PSA: Eating with a kitten

1. Stretch well ahead of time
2. Wear long underwear under your pants, remove all strings from the clothing.
3. Consider gloves.
4. re-stretch to make sure you can eat with one hand over your head--this is wear you will be holding your plate.
5. Practice moving the plate or ball back and forth between your hands. Speed counts.
6. Keep a few things handy to toss at the dogs, since they are sure the kitten's prescence near your food is an act of treachary against them.
7. Learn to eat formally hot foods at room temp or better yet, straight out of the fridge. If it stays cold, the aromas may not be as prominant, therefore it might take longer to attract said kitten.
8. Assume you will need a spare set of silverware. You'll probably end up tossing the kitten off of you with fork in your hand. Experienced pet owners won't mind the extra hair.
9. BONUS! Food rubbed off the fork onto the kitten. Now eat as fast as you can while she licks it off of her fur.
10. Don't count on eating standing up. This is why you are wearing long underwear--it helps deter the claws.

Ouch, there's a knife in my back

In all actuality, I don't think the knife is truly in my back. It came from a completely expected source. The hurt feelings come from other sources--all the classmates who believed that I would be such a nasty biotch as to try and get someone kicked out of our program. So, my vent on the Big Fat Liar.

First, you suck. You're not a good nurse. You're completely self-absorbed.
Second, I know why you have so much drama in your life. Bad things happen to you because of karma. Think about it.
Third, you're constant medical dramas are boring the hell out of everyone. NO ONE CARES.
Fourth, duncan hines, cool whip, and cherry pie filling don't equal a black forest cake. You may as well mash 3 different hostess cakes together--your choice be creative! and make ghetto cake.
Fifth, It's not always about you. Truly, there are other people in your surroundings. Try paying attention to them you might surprise yourself.
Sixth, I had a good laugh over you're little card. I debated between laughing and ripping into little pieces and throwing it in your face. You suck.

Wow, that felt good! Amazing what a little venting can accomplish.

Happy Monday

I love Mondays. My one day of the week that I vow to do nothing. I do end up doing stuff, but only when I want to. Sadly, my to do list is lurking in the back of my mind and my Happy Monday is getting a bit depressing.

-renew CPR cert. Call ambulance service to arrange
-work on Kidney project
-order senior pics.
-finish buying Christmas presents for two nephews, a step nephew, and a BIL. Look for a Birthday present for my niece.
-Start planning for the weekend--get wedding present.
-Do budget

It really doesn't look like all that much, except that the drive is 300 miles, and I'll be doing it alone. The family BS will start since I'll be attending along, even though I'm pretty sure the rest of us want to be anywhere else than with the Bridezilla. Too bad she doesn't have the bridezilla excuse the rest of her life.

Food report: I'm happy to say I only had one hard day. I blame the apple dumplings. What triggered the binge? Well...before I analyze that, I'm going to figure out what I all ate.
-three apple dumplings
-1 cup pretzels
-8oz prime rib
-potato with butter/sour cream
1 1/2 pieces of garlic bread
1 1/2 cups of gnocchi with alfredo and chicken
broccoli

So how bad is that? More calories than I need in a day, I'm sure, but volume wise I don't think I can truly qualify this as a binge. Compulsive, yes...again, I blame the dumplings. I've classified sweets as 'bad' and therefore forbidden, therefore something that I'm likely to think about compulsively.

I also struggled with *NOT* working out for three days in a row. I went back and forth in my head, wondering if this was 'bad' or if it was my perfectionist nature kicking in. Okay, I'll face it, it was my perfectionist all or none nature kicking in. It was most 100% definately the part that wants it fixed now nature happening.

Therapist thinks this is going to contribute to the vicious cycle--now I'll feel bad, and this will lead to another binge. Perhaps that was true in the past, but I don't think that's what is happening now. The thoughts are becoming fleeting, and the rebound is quicker.

I'm still not thrilled with food/eating, although Friday night's meal/desert was the first I had been able to enjoy pretty much since I saw the therapist last. Otherwise, it was all just an effort. The dumpling were fun, once I got going, but overall...cooking, something I normally enjoy, has lost it's luster. The feelings are just all mushed up and nasty.

Just a food journal

10/4
McDonald's biscuit-egg-cheese-bacon & hashbrown
Honey nut cheerios/skim milk (2 servings of cereal, one of milk)
Turkey burger
Mixed fruit
Yogurt
coffee/milk
leftover scalloped potato/ham
toast/butter, 2 slices
1/2 cup of cheddar pretzels

10/5
8oz prime rib
french onion soup w/ swiss cheese
broccoli
1/2 large baked potato, 1 butter pat, sour cream
coffee, four creamers
Cold Stone Creamery banana caramel crunch, like it size, 1/3 chocolate dipped waffle cone
6" chicken bacon ranch sub on wheat, with cheese
1 serving bagel chips
cereal (two servings) with skim milk
2 sticks of string cheese

Yoga at 220 is a heck of a lot harder than at 175. The principle of use it or lose it has been drilled home. It's not the first time this principle has hit home for me, but I miss being able to fold myself so easily, and I miss the strength I had in my arms. One of the leftover body distortions I have (hopefully on the way out) is that I thought my arms at 175 looked the same as they did at 232. Logically, I knew there had to be some differences, yet I distorted the image in the mirror quite a bit. My stomach gives me problems with some of the bends, but it's a lot worse now. I feel like I should apologize to my body.

MIL is amazing in this respect. I don't know if she's just naturally hyper, or if it's an effort for her like it has been for me, but she looks amazing for 67 years old, and is in fabulous shape. The woman works out several times a week at "silver sneakers" not to mention all the golfing. No cart, of course. Unless I can make sufficient change, I'm far more likely to be in rotten shape like my father and sister, who get winded walking across the street.

It's time to realize that working out for 3-4 days and then doing nothing for a week or two isn't going to cut it. I wish I could understand why it's so hard to keep motivated. I know I'm not alone. 32 million obese people are right behind me with the same struggles. This, I think, is something I'll need to ponder for awhile.

Can anyone hear me?

Or am I talking--shouting--to the empty air, sky, and universe? It sure doesn't seem like anyone is listening, which makes me wonder if anyone can hear me. My therapist needs to know the following:

I've worked damn hard the last year and half, and you need to take a look at where I've been, and how far I've come if you are going to be remotely close to getting me the rest of the way to my goals. Otherwise, we won't be able to continue this relationship.

First, where I've been:
Wallowing in self-loathing and self-hatred.
Wondering if I'm crazy
Thinking I have to be super mom, super wife, super daughter, super aunt, and super sister.
Depressed when I couldn't live up to any of the above Supers
Living in fear of having Huntington's disease
Grief-filled over our IVF failure

Where I am now:
Liking or loving myself most days
Knowning I'm not crazy
Knowning I'm not a Super woman in any respect, and being thankful that I don't have to live up to any ridiculous standards.
Able to say "no"
Knowing my limits
Having confidence in my abilities, which are many
At peace with our infertility
Still afraid of HD, but not afraid to live
No longer needing constant validation for my existance, being able to provide my own self-validation. This has resulted in appearing to be shy and quiet, but also more geniune.

Right now, I am pissed off--no, I'm well beyond that. Infuriated, shakingly, screaming at the top of my lungs pissed off. The kind of pissed off where I want to break something. Will it do any good? Of course not, but that is what I'm feeling. I come out of therapy feeling weak and helpless. That makes me mad because nothing could be further from the truth. You're trying to sell me on the fact that an eating disorder is a disease. I'm not buying it. It's a problem, yes, and in the sense that it's created physical problems for me....yes, it's a disease. Many diseases have a cure and I'm including this eating disorder in the category of curable diseases. It's not like bipolar disorder or diabetes that can be managed with medication. On the contrary, this is something I started, something that I could count on for comfort at a very specific point in my life. After that it became a habit and I believe other influences on this habit lead to a vicious cycle.

Dieting, for one thing...this lead me to feeling deprived and in a sense lonely for that which once brought me comfort. That in turn lead to binging and compulsive thoughts about food. Find me someone who doesn't think about food compulsively when on a diet! Do they all have an eating disorder? NO OF COURSE NOT!!! I never developed alternative coping mechanisms, which is what my main focus is right now. I have a list of things that feel good to me...including bathes, wine, lattes, massages, pedicures, and shopping. I'm very tactile...that's why this list has so many touchy-feely things on it. These are all very good wonderful things for me. Things that require active effort on my part to make happen. Sometimes I'm good at this, other times I'm not.

The society I live in is food focused. Constant commercials for food, restaurants, dieting, and even a FOOD channel. How on earth can I not think about it? But that is one thing I've been asked to do, and it seems impossible. There is a difference between being obsessive and having 'normal' thoughts about eating and food. Seeing as how I can't survive without it, I don't have a choice now do I? How do I know when my thoughts are 'normal'? What's the metric?

Next we have therapy and the ED program. While not entirely food focused, my eating habits are in the spotlight right now. It feels like the goal of not obsessively thinking about food is in direct odds with keeping a food journal. The end result is that I'm pissed of to the nth degree and really want nothing to do with food. I don't want to cook, which I normally love to do. I don't want to eat, which I obviously love to do. I get mad when I get hungry. It's just a reminder that I have to deal with this yet again, and that I have to find a way of feeding myself something decent, nutritious, loving (loving, LOVING? Are you for freakin' real when you said that part?), oh yeah, but try not to think about it too much, and try to eat before you get TOO hungry, and try to distinguish between emotional and physical hunger. ARE YOU F'ING KIDDING ME?

Let's review what I can do:
-I am the person in charge (mainly) of meal preparation in my home.
-I can tell the difference between emotional and physical hunger, even if I don't always choose to *NOT* eat when the hunger is emotional
-I have a goddamn brain in my head--I can use it
-I can and do practice (with varying regularity) self care in the form of naps, bathes, massages, pedicures, and all the other things I've already mentioned.
-I can break this vicious cycle.

But don't give me conflicting advice. Please, all it does it makes me angry, and makes me think you can't hear what I'm saying. Know that I'm frustrated with how my body looks, and sad that I did this to myself. I'm afraid that I'm wrecked my metabolism, and that how I want to look is not going to be possible. I'm sad, frustrated, and a little scared at the effort it's going to take to get my body strong and healthy again. I'm sad that it came to this. I need support in the active effort to rebuild that strength. I want to have a sex drive again, I want to feel pretty if not sexy in my clothes. I want to be able to wear all of the clothes in my closet.

I want how I feel inside to be reflected on the outside. The outside still looks like how I felt years ago.