Small Victories

I got new homework for the next two weeks. We’ve started moving away from the easier things, and we’re starting to tackle some of the more difficult things.

One of the things that I find more problematic is when I have a weekend that I’m with my boyfriend and his son. We tend to go out to eat, and when it comes to restaurants…. I tend to freak out.

Last night, we went to a new place, because my boyfriend wanted me to experience the gyros that he knows are really good, since the last gyros we had were mediocre at best.

The gyros were incredible. We also had salads to start, and it came with a plate of fries.

One of my homework assignments is that I agreed not to log my calories one day out of the week.

I managed to eat my entire gyro, the side salad, and almost half of the fries. It felt like a lot. And when we got home, I weighed myself… And I had gained 5 pounds since the afternoon. That is when I broke down and added everything to my calorie log.

The important takeaway for me is that I managed to go, eat without logging first, and eating until I was actually full. Also recognizing that this morning, I am four pounds lighter than last night, and my metabolism has done its job.

I see that as a victory. Today is a new day that I can try to avoid logging. And it’s not the end of the world if I gain a little bit of weight. It will go back away. I can do this.

Dinner Alone

I believe I’ve mentioned before that my boyfriend and I regularly eat dinner together. On the weekend nights that he has his son, if I have my kids the same weekend, I have a hard time figuring out what I actually want to eat for dinner. I have a few go-to concoctions on which I rely. I always keep my staples in the apartment on those weekends. Tuna, peppers and onions, baby carrots, crackers, bread, peanut butter. My list is small, but strong.

Last night, my boyfriend and I had a dinner time with the kids off at their grandparents house. It was just the two of us. And he informs me before I leave for work that because he ate lunch, he wasn’t very hungry for dinner. He didn’t care what we had for dinner, if he decided to eat anything. I had to fend for myself.

I instantly start going through all of the scenarios of how I can convince him that I didn’t need dinner either. But I reprimanded myself for that because it was an unhelpful thought.

When I got home, he was already all comfy and ready to just snuggle and relax… but I still needed to eat. I spent over an hour going over what I had available, what I could make, what I didn’t want, what I could be hungry for. I was in a great deal of distress. And when I finally settled on a very strange concoction of tuna with Mexican corn, sour cream, Mexican cheese blend in a tortilla quesadilla style… he questioned me multiple times if I was sure that that is what I really wanted. He didn’t know if it would actually taste any good. He wasn’t sure that it would all work together. Now, I understand it sounds like a strange combination. But if I didn’t think it was going to work, I wouldn’t have continued making it.

I have a hard enough time trying to decide on what to eat. What can I eat. What should I eat. SHOULD I eat? (yes. always yes) It is far more difficult for me to commit to something when it is constantly being questioned, or when someone is showing constant distaste for the thing I’m eating. And the fact I was eating and he wasn’t did not help my situation much.

We ended up going outside to have a smoke to let my food cool. He got distracted filling a snake hole, so I went downstairs, and ate my food. He didn’t even realize I had eaten everything, and finished before he came back inside. But I did it. And it. Was. Delicious.

It was not, however, how I wanted to spend my date night without the kids. Next time, I’ll be more prepared. Or at least try to.

Out Loud

I’ve mentioned a few times before that I have a hard time admitting that I have an eating disorder. It’s even harder to talk about it out loud to another person. I tried talking openly with my boyfriend last night. I asked him if he wanted to hear about my new homework for my therapy, and he said, “…sure.” I could tell he was trying, but he really has a hard time understanding.

Yeah.. he didn’t really understand the importance of me working on my homework either. He mentioned that as long as he’s known me, this is a different ‘phase’ than he’s ever seen. According to him, I have a regular eating phase, an eat everything phase, and an eat next to nothing phase. This is a “weird” phase where he thinks I’m eating “normally” but I’m still obsessing like I would be if I was in an ‘eat next to nothing phase’.

I think that is actually a small victory. I’m in a different phase. I’m TRYING to break the cycle. I’m working toward finding that happy medium, and living there.

I told one of my co-workers. The one to whom I’ve been talking about my frustration with my boyfriend where mental illness is involved. She understands the need for therapy, so why wouldn’t she understand my reason? So I told her. I’ve been diagnosed with Atypical Anorexia Nervosa. and she said, “Oh my god. That’s so terrible. But wait… I thought you always eat supper.”, and she proceeded to try to give me constructive ideas on how to fix my problems. 😐

People may be more understanding of mental health now a days… but boy, they don’t really understand mental illnesses. Anorexic people eat. Bulimic people can keep food in their stomachs. And sometimes… you just don’t fit into a category at all. So they call you atypical.

It’s conversations like these that give me doubt. Even my Primary Doctor noted that I have a possibility of an eating disorder. Sometimes, I really wonder if I’m just making it worse than it really is. Maybe, I’m just a normal, healthy, 26 year-old woman experiencing normal thoughts for a healthy 26 year-old woman.

Or maybe I trust the therapist and acknowledge that I indeed have a problem. That this is not normal. That I am so stubborn, that I wouldn’t have even considered talking to a doctor about this if I wasn’t concerned, or thought I could do it myself. . .But I can have hope that one day, I will be able to have a boring, regular NORMAL life! There’s plenty of other things to make my life exciting. And I want to enjoy them.

Work “friends”

The thing that I hate about working in an office is how close to… and how ridiculously far from.. you are to your co-workers. I have always had a hard time being real around anyone. Multiply that by a million when I’m in an office full of women who play the ‘office politic’ game. I feel like anything that I could possibly say to anyone can, at any given moment, be twisted into something that is entirely different than what I intended.

I’ve been a little touch-and-go with letting people know that I’m seeing a therapist. I believe out of the 15 people in my office, 2 I have told, but they all know that I’ve been having regular ‘doctors’ appointments every other week. I’m sure some of them have figured it out.

What they don’t know is why. It’s difficult for me to explain when I’m still trying to figure it all out. I am slightly closer to some co-workers than others. And I’m thinking about the idea of slowly dipping my toe into the waters of owning my problems. I almost feel like if I were to be transparent with one or two of them… it may help to know that I’m not trying to keep this completely in the dark – that being open with a select few might actually help me in my getting better.

I feel like I’m constantly hiding. I try to hide my body. I try to mask my eating habits. I try to hide how I feel. I try to hide…everything. And maybe, part of getting better is taking that mask away. Coming out into the light and saying, I have a problem. I mean… in real life. With people. That sounds so hard, but so is everything else I’m doing in order to … not fix… overcome my illness.

It’s also really been nagging in the back of my brain… maybe you should just tell someone. Maybe, you can find someone who would understand and not think they need to fix you, or worry that you’re skipping lunch again, or look at you in a different way. Okay. THAT is what terrifies me. All. Of. The. Above. But maybe it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as how I imagine it in my head. It almost never is. Until it is.

Atypical My Ass

Something that frustrates me the most about finally addressing my mental health is that I would absolutely LOVE to be able to just turn it off. I am on my lunch break. My routine for my lunch break is go home, check the mail, pick up my daughter from school and drop her off at daycare, then run back to work. Occasionally, I have a few extra minutes to run to the store or gas station.

Today, I have been particularly hungry. I checked the mail and went inside. Keeping in mind my next appointment is tomorrow morning, and I have homework to complete…. I figured I would look for a snack.

I looked in the cabinet. I wanted soup – too calorie dense. Peanut butter? Too many calories. I looked in the fridge. I was there, crouched in front of my refrigerator for 5 minutes… And couldn’t bring myself to actually make a decision.

I haven’t put my number for dinner into my tracker, and so everything had too many calories.

And as I sit here in my car waiting for school to dismiss for the day, I’m unhappy that I didn’t make a choice. I’m upset that I can’t just eat. Why is that so fucking hard? I mean… it’s not in theory. Just in practice.

My stomach is empty. And I should just eat. But something in my brain is preventing me from doing just that. So yes. I am suffering from an eating disorder. And progress doesn’t just happen. It takes time. It takes effort.

Today has been a bad day. But that doesn’t mean that I’ll never get there. Each day starts fresh. And tomorrow will be better. I will be stronger. And every day after that. And when I DO finally get this thing under control, I will look back at this, and be proud of getting myself away from feeling like this.

Long Day

Yesterday morning, my little girl had a dentist appointment with a new dentist. She ended up having two teeth pulled. And I was not in the room with her. They convinced me that as her mother, I would likely make her more nervous.

Let me tell you what. I would have, if anything, made her more comfortable. Because I’m her mother, and I know how to discuss things with her. I know how to make her feel better. But. They convinced me to stay away and allow them to do their job. And I listened.

The guilt that I felt after that is like no other. I make a point of letting her be a part of the decision making process for anything that has to deal with her body. I’m hoping, by doing that, that I will make her more aware growing up of her own body being her own entity that she controls. But for now, she’s 8. Just because I’m her mother doesn’t mean that I should tell the dentist it’s okay to yank her teeth out without me in the room.

We spent the rest of the day together. I called her out of school. I called off of work. And I got to spend time with my baby girl. Ever since her brother came along, we haven’t had too many opportunities for just us. Especially since their father isn’t too much in the picture – his choice, not mine. But it was really nice to just… be – together. We didn’t do a whole lot. We relaxed. And we were just mommy and baby.

I may have overreacted a little bit, and made too much of a big deal out of it…. but it is a big deal. And I wouldn’t trade my day yesterday for anything in the world. Sometimes, as a parent, or even just as a person… it’s nice to just stop. Stop running around. Stop distracting ourselves.. and just be.

Hypocrisy

Let me start this one out by saying, I try my damndest not to allow my little girl, who is 8, to see me stress about my appearance. That being said, I know how observant little ones are – even when you think their heads are in the clouds.

My precious, beautiful little girl is so kind, and loving, and innocent. So very emotionally fragile…. and the pickiest eater ever. I have tried just about everything in the past, and have FINALLY gotten to a point where if I put something, a small morsel, new on her plate, she understands that I expect her to try it. To give it a real go before she decides she doesn’t like it. We’re making progress.

I ran into a problem with her a few weeks ago. It was right after making a big deal about how she’s getting the first signs of puberty – AT 8 YEARS OLD! So I had measured her little mosquito bites to make sure I was shopping for the right sports bra. Shortly after that, I started getting questions from her about how many calories are in certain foods, and her asking to see the nutrition labels on things. 😐 My. Heart. Sank.

I explained to her that at the age of 8, it wasn’t her responsibility to focus on those kinds of things. I explained to her that she needed a high number of calories, as a growing little girl, and that it was my responsibility to make sure that her needs were met – so she didn’t have to worry about it. Just put her trust in me that I was giving her the nutrition that she NEEDS to grow big and strong, just like her mama.

Now the tricky part. I eat, on average, less calories than it takes to run the body of an 8-year-old. How can I preach to her that nutrition is SO important, and food is there to fuel her body so that she can grow… when I have such a hard time allowing (there’s that word again) myself the correct nutrition for my own body. It’s possible she may think that I’ve eaten throughout the day, and my dinner is just a small part of my overall diet…. but I also know she’s more observant than that.

I will say, when I look at her, I see myself. And when I see the ways in which she looks like me, I can’t believe I could ever think so little of the way I look. She truly has done wonders for me. And, unlike my mother, when she tells me how beautiful I am, I shoot right back at her – “And how lucky are you, that you look just like me.” Big talk. I’ve always been good at coming off as confident and self-assured.

She is the real reason I want to get better. She is my rock, though she won’t know that for many years to come. She is my inspiration to be healthy – so she can look at me, and know how to be healthy. Know how to take care of herself. So as difficult as it will be… I will STOP being a hypocrite. I WILL get to a point where I can be a role model for her, instead of a talking head. Do as I say, not as I do – does NOT apply to health. Health is important. I want to be around when she graduates, when she starts her career, when she needs me to lean on when she feels like the pressure of the world is too much for her to bear… and if I don’t beat this… she’ll have to talk to the air. Ask me to ‘guide’ her when I can’t answer. I will not allow that to happen.

I will be there for her. Here. Healthy. I have no choice.

Snack Attack

So I’m working on noticing the difference between ‘normal’ and ‘abnormal’ behavior. It is normal to crave a snack, eat that snack, be satiated, and be done. It is abnormal to crave a snack, so you find everything you possibly can, and eat it alone in bed late at night.

Last night, I had 2 pop-tarts, a caramel MilkyWay bar, a hollow bunny, some jelly beans, some milk duds, and a giant spoon full of peanut butter. Somehow, I managed to eat all of those things within a half hour, alone, in bed. That is abnormal behavior. That, my friends, is what we call a binge. Maybe not the worst binge in the entire world… but definitely a binge.

What’s even crazier in my mind (which I’m sure you’ve figured out is crazy within its own right), is when I did my morning weigh-in. I had gone DOWN two pounds. Immediately, I wanted to reach for my measuring tape… but it’s the weekend – no measuring on the weekend. Ugh.

And now… What? Where do I go from here? What I want to do is punish myself for this. *Not normal* I want to avoid eating anything today, to ‘make up’ for this. *which will lead me right back to this point* But it’s done, so I can’t go back and fix it now.

Now… what should I do? I should take into consideration that I’ve not done that in a long time, and when you deny your body some things for so long, you’ll pay for it eventually. I should understand that unhealthy snacks are actually.. okay.. in moderation every once in a while.

Maybe, I’ll have to work one ‘naughty’ food into what I allow myself to eat for a week. For me… it’s never about whether or not I want to eat sweets – I always want to eat sweets… It’s about what I allow myself to eat. THAT is what I should stop.

I am always allowed to eat.

Eating is a function that provides fuel for my body, that keeps it healthy, that keeps it running, that keeps me here. Why, since I understand the logistics so well, am I so unable to apply these things in practice? That is the part that really sucks the most in particular.

Burden

I absolutely HATE being a burden on other people. I understand that there are people to whom I can talk, and those to whom I can’t. A lot of times, I rely on the people who can’t understand why I need to talk… – which is stupid of me.

I have a very close personal circle. Two girl friends and whoever their dating at the time, and my boyfriend. Everyone else in whom I confide is pretty much ancillary in my life until I decide to make them a deciding factor on one thing or another which no one close to me can understand.

Regardless…. I start to feel like a burden. Whether it’s on my personal friends, my co-workers… Because I’m not 100% honest…. about anything. And when I try to be honest… they think I’m kidding – and with that, I try to roll. Any excuse for me to be in denial.

Actually, a huge reason why I started this site…this blog?…this thing. . . was because I just wanted a space to be open without causing distress on my friends/family/normal life people.

If you’re reading this, and you feel the same way… feel free to reach out. Sometimes it takes a stranger to know a stranger..

If you’re in no way related to this, and you ask a loved one you fear is going through the same thing… good luck, and be patient. Eating disorders like to hide in the darkest recesses of the brain, and denial is their best friend. But don’t give up, just be gentle.

Denial

What a dirty word. Denial. In the back of my head, I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that it’s true. Every time I’ve thought to myself, “Hey, Vim. I think you could probably use some help.”, I kick myself in the ass and say back, “Believe me. I’ve got this! I am so strong, and I’ve taken care of myself my whole life. Why would I need help with something like this?”

-DENIAL

You know what is NOT a dirty word? Help. Accepting that there is something in your life that you thought you had 100% control over, and realizing that that control… is what’s slowly killing you.

Food has given me control over my life. Anything and everything around me that I have no control over. But I have the willpower to deny my BODY something it NEEDS in order to LIVE. Now THAT is control.

-DENIAL

But I have periods of time when I let go. When I indulge in something that I’ve been wanting to eat for the last 6 months but haven’t allowed myself to because it just wasn’t in the cards. I can’t possibly have an actual disorder if I have periods of time when I can just ‘let go’, even when everything seems to be falling apart around me. If that were the case, people would take notice, and show concern over the appearance of my body, right?

This isn’t a problem. This cycle will not start over.

-DENIAL

I just need to find a healthy balance. Between eating too much, and not enough. That should be easy, right? I can do that by myself.

-DENILE

I will get to a point. Where I’m okay with not being okay. It’s just not today. And that is okay.