The Little Things

I’ve noticed that a lot of my posts are quite negative. Even when I am trying to do my best to encourage myself, mostly around the end, that I’m doing alright.

This morning, I had a particularly difficult time with the dress I had picked out to wear. I even have three outfits still laying on my bed as alternatives, because I really was not feeling my outfit for the day at all. To be honest, I’m still really not feeling it.

I asked my boyfriend if my dress looked weird, as it hangs differently at certain parts that I’m really not used to clothes bunching. He assured me, more than once, that the dress is indeed cut weirdly, and it has a few bunching issues. He also said I looked fantastic, and that it wasn’t me – it’s the dress. Now, that didn’t fully reassure me, and I’m still having some issues with the way I feel in this dress. But I will say, it made me feel better to hear him say that. The fact that it wasn’t all in my head was a great relief.

I’ve come to terms with the fact that there is no possible way to explain to him the way I feel about my body and the way I look. There is no way for me to expect him to understand. But I have noticed that he really seems to be trying to reassure me when I need him to. He believes me when I tell him how poorly I feel. And that wouldn’t be the case if I didn’t come out and tell him that sometimes, I need a little extra encouragement. He’s always thought that I’m just really hard on myself. But now that I’m opening up to him about my therapy, and some of the issues that I’ve kept locked away, I think that he’s really trying to understand and take it seriously – take me seriously. And that is a really important aspect of our relationship.

So. The last few weeks have been a little difficult. I’ve slipped up a little, and maybe moved in the wrong direction. But – and this time I really mean it – that doesn’t mean that I can’t move in the right direction. Maybe I do need to be a little less hard on myself. It may not be the only way to rectify my situation, but accepting that it’s okay to default as long as I don’t get stuck there is a big deal.

I know that right now, it feels like a never-ending battle. It feels like I’m treading water, not making any progress. Like any time I do move, it’s backwards. But I’ve taken some huge steps. There are a lot of things that I’m taking on, and I’m not failing at all of them. And that, in my book, is enough of a victory for now. It’s the little things in life that really make a difference. and each little baby step that I take toward changing and being healthy is actually a huge step toward accomplishing that goal.

Struggles

This weekend was a nice balance of hanging out, working hard, and having fun. It was not, however, conducive to my progress.

I had a great night Saturday. I had a nice little tuna cake burrito. It was fab. I snacked on some carrot sticks with peanut butter and ranch after the kids went to bed. It was wonderful and delicious, and I didn’t feel horrible afterwards.

Then there was yesterday. I was doing a bit of early summer cleaning, organizing, getting rid of things. Then I took the kiddos to the mall for a bit, had some fun. We went out to eat lunch, and I had some coffee, thinking “I’m not hungry yet, but I’ll eat a good dinner”. Then there was more cleaning to do when I got home, and getting dinner ready for the kids, and getting them ready for bed, then my shower… then it was 10 o’clock and by boyfriend was home.

I feel like I’ve taken a full step back. And I find that disappointing. But now all I need to do is take two steps forward, right? Get back on track. That can’t be too hard. I just have to keep my head up, and one foot in front of the other. Easy peasy….

If you couldn’t tell by now, a lot of this blog is me trying to implement the old tried and true method of – “if I talk like I mean it, some day it will be true”. Let me tell you what. I talk a big talk. I always have. I’m very good at convincing people to love themselves the way they are, and that they are beautiful just the way they are. And I’m great at saying that I’m perfectly fine, and people believe me. But not one time have I convinced myself that I’m telling the truth. I used to say “Fake it ’till you make it, and one day, you won’t have to fake it anymore”. I’m not so sure I agree with that anymore.

But here I am, trying to convince myself that I’m strong, that I can do this. That I’m capable of letting go of this crutch that has carried me through my life. But am I really? Or am I just faking it again, and this time I’m actually trying to believe my own lies. I’m not quite sure yet. But I don’t have much of a choice right now but to at least try.

Back-Track

This past week, I’ve been trying to push myself. I ate more than I wanted to Saturday, didn’t log on Sunday – having 3 plates of food at a buffet, no less! – and I’ve been trying to keep my dinners above 500 calories.

My brain is telling me that I need to simmer down with all of this change. I’m gaining weight back. I’m becoming ‘large’. My body is jiggling in places I’d rather it not. I look disgusting, and my fat is bulging everywhere. I’m not exercising, and it’s starting to show. I can’t find any clothes that look right on me. This is not progress. I am effectively “letting myself go”.

I talked to my boyfriend about this. About feeling like all of this is more hurtful to me than helpful. That I feel so gross and unattractive. He does not think I look any different now than I did before I gained 5 pounds. In his mind, 5 pounds will melt off in a day. I do not measure any larger than I did – with the exception of on the scale. And when he looks at me, I can tell that he’s attracted to me. He has a certain way of making me feel like the most beautiful woman on the planet when he looks at me in a certain way. But then I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror… and I wonder… how? How can he make me feel this way when I look like that?

This next week, I may have to backtrack a little in order to find a bit of balance. My self-esteem this past week has been critical to say the least, and I have an event next weekend that will either boost it… or crush me entirely. I feel like if I take a few steps to make myself feel better… even if it’s just adding exercise to my extra caloric intake, or taking my dinners down a step… I think that would ensure that next weekend won’t be a catastrophe.

I need to find myself again. The person I was before I allowed this… mindset… to entirely take over who I am. I wish I could just enjoy life again, and not be in perpetual worry that whatever I’m doing is going to result in me blowing up like a balloon. And I may need to take a step back from my “progress” every once in a while to cope with certain things. But that does not mean that I will not get back on track. And I know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that I am NOT alone.

The Week That Never Ends

This is one of those weeks that feels like it is just never going to end. But then I realized… This week is just a continuation of all the same issues from last week, which had bled over from the week before.

Usually, especially where work is involved, if I have a problem, I take care of it, it’s done. I don’t see the name again for a few weeks. The last two weeks, I’ve been trying to solve two specific cases where the people with whom I’m working either aren’t listening to what I’m saying, or they think they know the situation better than I do. Now I’ll be the first to tell you, I’m still learning. I do not know everything. But if I am working on something, actively, for a long period of time, you can bet your ass, I’m going to know everything of which I’m capable related to the issue at hand.

On top of all that frustration, I’ve been not doing very well with my homework from my therapist. Actually, with the exception of not taking tape measurements over the weekend, and – okay – I did manage to go a whole day without tracking my calories on Sunday. Those are both victories.

*Breathe*

Okay. I’ve been doing a decent job of following my homework. And while I recognize that, it just doesn’t really seem to be helping my thinking process, or the way I’ve felt about myself. Boy, I wouldn’t say half the things that have gone through my head about my worst enemy. So why do I think them about myself? Why is it so hard to just love myself? Or, at the very least, tolerate me.

Tomorrow is Friday. And then I get to have a wonderful weekend with my wonderful babies. And I will re-find my center. This is good. It will end.

Mental Dumping Ground

I have been in a very bad place in my head the last few days. It’s hard for me to look at any part of my body without feeling the need to literally cry – and I’m not a crier.

I know that I am so much more than how I look. I’m pretty funny. I’m really quite smart. My children adore me, and think I’m the best mom in the world. But I look down at myself, and there is nothing good I see.

My boyfriend has this idea in his head that I have plenty of self-esteem. That I just need to be more comfortable with showing my body in certain ways. Let me tell you something… my self-esteem, though I talk a big talk, is damn near non-existent. I don’t feel like right now, I can realistically show any part of my body without making other people totally disgusted.

I’ve been working on wearing clothes that don’t completely cover my entire shape. I know that there are certain things my boyfriend likes seeing me wear, and so I try to wear them to avoid looking like a complete blob any time I’m around him. Yesterday, it was booty shorts.

I sat down in our outside chairs for a smoke, and I looked at my thighs – and almost gagged. I made it 45 minutes before changing back into my sweat pants and sweater.

Sometimes I feel bad for my boyfriend. He didn’t sign up for all this. He didn’t sign up for a woman who’s so ashamed of her body that she hardly lets him see it. I have been trying so hard to look at myself the same way he sees me… and all I see is how I don’t look as attractive as any of the other girls he looks at.

I know that at the moment, I’m trying to get “better”, but all I can think about is if I get better, then I’m just going to get really big, and lose all the progress I’ve made. For me right now, “better” is 20 pounds lighter than I am, working out and paying attention to what I eat. But realistically, I know that’s not right. I know that “paying attention to what I eat” should really be “making sure my body has the nutrients it needs”, and “working out” … well I could probably stand to work out a little more.

I will say. This blog, as much as it is a mental dumping ground for me, really helps. Every like I get, every new person who follows me makes me feel… less alone? Like there’s someone out there rooting for me. Or learning from me. It makes me feel oddly… purposeful? At this point, I just really appreciate the fact that I have a place I can just vent. And like my profile says… if I’m not helping anyone else, at least I’m trying to help myself.

But if you’re reading this, I want you to know I really appreciate you using your time to get to know me. Thank you.

Everything Sucks

Today is a bitch day. Where I just NEED to get everything out of my system.

I. Feel. Disgusting. In every facet of the word. I feel sick to my stomach. I feel like my entire body looks like misshapen pizza dough. And now that I think of it, I’ve felt that way pretty much all weekend. I don’t remember what my weight was this morning… and THAT terrifies me. Last night I was up a bit, and it would have maybe calmed me at least knowing what my weight is.

My boyfriend pointed out a woman at the park during my lunch break. I told him she looks tiny, to which he replied, “That is what you look like.” I didn’t believe him. Today, I feel particularly large. I almost felt like he was trying to prank me… but I think even he knows better than that.

It has just been a particularly rough day. Work is going well. Life in general is pretty fantastic… I just don’t have the energy to deal with my brain at the moment. I can’t look at myself without being disgusted at what I’m seeing.

If I had one wish, and I truly mean this, I would wish that no one would ever have to feel the way I feel about myself, about themselves. I know that I’m not the only person out there that has to constantly battle the thoughts in their head – far from it – but I really wish no one would ever have to feel that way. It’s really not a great feeling. I want to crawl in a whole, lie in a ball, and go to sleep. Just hibernate.

Here’s To Trying

I was at work on Friday, and my boyfriend was anticipating father’s day weekend with me and his son when he messaged me, “bring a swimsuit”.

Last year, we went to Ocean City, and I had purchased 2 new bikinis in anticipation for that trip. And I had gotten small in anticipation for that trip. I am not quite as small now, so the mere thought of myself wearing those instantly drove my anxiety through the roof.

Something that I find particularly bothersome in society right now is the “body positivity” movement. The main pain point for me there is that everyone is telling everyone else that it’s okay to look this way or that way…. But I was raised to believe that the only opinion that really matters is your own. And in my opinion, I should not be wearing a swimsuit – let alone a bikini.

I packed the damn thing anyway. And not my high-waisted one. (My boyfriend thinks it covers too much of my body and I don’t need to) Either luckily for me, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, the weather was not cooperative for such ventures.

However, now that summer is here and swimsuit season is actually upon us… I feel the need to pay more attention to junk I put in my body. It’s been through some junk this weekend, for sure. Ugh. Trying to find a balance…. That’s the difficult part. Here’s to trying.

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.

Homework…

I have homework to complete before my next visit with my doctor. I’ve been kind of dreading it, even though it’s really small changes.

1.) Only take measurements on weekdays. No measuring on weekends.

2.) Deleting 10 of the oldest photos in my ‘body’ album.

3.) Only buying vending machine food if I eat it within 30 minutes of buying it.

4.) Reduce Social Media with targeting ads.

5.) Bring a small amount of food into work one day a week.

Here we are. It is Friday, and I have chosen today to be the day that I bring food into work. I carefully counted out 20 baby carrots, measured out 2 tablespoons of powdered peanut butter to mix when I’m ready, and plucked 4 strips of red bell pepper out of my pre-cut preserve. It is now in my refrigerator at work… and I already don’t want to eat it. My brain is so used to thinking that my stomach is always full that even that small amount of food – in the middle of the day – seems like so very much. It is 95 calories. It is NOT too much. It is NOT ENOUGH.

Now I have a snack. In the refrigerator. That I have to eat. Before I leave today. A healthy snack. A delicious snack. And at 12:15, I will eat it. And because it is Friday, I will not be able to measure myself tomorrow, or Sunday. I don’t want to follow these rules, but I want to get healthy. It’s like I tell my kids – you don’t have to like the rules. You don’t have to question the rules. But you WILL follow the rules. I will follow the rules. Because I am a fucking adult. Lead by example, right? I hate this.