Last summer, while working with LA to start breaking down my food rules and start expanding my preferences, I mentioned I wanted to become a vegetarian.
LA glanced up at me from the meal plan she was carefully developing, stared at me for a moment, and replied:
"Let's just work on expanding your diet a little right now, okay?" And she returned to writing.
I frowned. At the time, I did not understand her response at all. If I wanted to be a vegetarian, why couldn't we just omit meat from my meal plan? If my whole diet had to be rebuilt anyhow, couldn't I do it the way I wanted to?
One year later, I've made the connection.
Given that I was only eating about five things (most of which were just variations of raw vegetables) at that point in time, cutting out a food group while moving forward was probably not her preferred strategy.
I actually was a vegetarian at one point in my life. As a teenager with a brother and dad who hunted and ate pretty much anything with a heartbeat (er, a terminated heartbeat, I guess?), an uncle who raised cattle and hogs for my relatives to "buy", and a house with various unidentifiable meats stored in the deep freezer (usually from hunting trips and/or a recently slaughtered "pet"), I steered clear of meat until I went to college.
Sometimes, I would eat meat if prodded, teased by my family or relatives, or just to be accomodating. However, when given the choice, I would generally choose a plate full of greens or pasta over Bambi or Spunky or Brownie any day.
In college, I ate meat because: 1. choices were limited on campus, and 2. I was not constantly reminded that the end product was derived from a bullet in my brother's gun or the animal to which I had just fed grass the week prior.
Currently, however, I am about two months into my return to vegetarianism. While noshing on my veggie, feta, and hummus pita recently, I reflected on this choice and whether or not it is something I want to stick with...or even should stick with given my recent history with food restriction and disordered eating.
In a variety of situations (many now personal and not at all eating-related), LA has challenged me to focus not on a particular action or decision, but on what is actually driving my choice. The choice itself, as she points out, is not necessarily "healthy" or "unhealthy", but sometimes the motivation leading me to the action can be.
For example, when I still wanted to run the Little Rock Marathon despite a multitude of stress fractures, she did not automatically support this decision until I reflected upon and could explain my motivation for doing so. Once she could see evidence that I had truly sat with the decision and thought it through, she supported my decision wholeheartedly and stepped in yet again as my biggest cheerleader.
This I love about her.
Through my close bond with LA, I have learned to process through a lot of life's decisions in this way. So while pondering whether or not cutting out a major food group is a smart choice for someone with a past restrictive eating disorder, I naturally started by examining my motivation for doing so.
What I decided is that LA's efforts to keep me focused on eating a variety of foods was absolutely the correct approach. I had established a history of eliminating major food groups, one by one, until I was essentially eating nothing (and still purging the "nothing"). My motivation for wanting to return to a vegetarian diet last summer was, without a doubt, in an effort to maintain control of my diet and resist LA's efforts to rebuild my nutrition. It was a last resort, last ditch effort to keep my obsessive focus on food.
I had to learn to eat again without the obsession before I could truly make any sound decisions about my diet. LA (and now JN) have helped me approach food without judgment, eat driven by hunger cues, and let go of any preconceived notions about "right" or "wrong" choices. I learned to eat freely again, and because of that, I am now in a place where I can decide what I want to eat based on true preference, not restriction.
Currently, I am about two months into eating an almost entirely vegetarian diet. I can honestly say I enjoy eating this way for several reasons, none of which are driven by obsession, weight loss, or control.
Having gone through some fairly intensive nutrition therapy, I now understand food and nourishment better than I ever have. For this reason, I am actually better equipped to eliminate meat from my diet and still meet my nutrition and energy needs. I approach meal planning with a natural awareness that has taken time to develop, but it is that awareness that helps guide my choices and ensures balance with regards to ingredients, nutrients, and energy sources. I've acquired enough knowledge in this process that I can now listen to my body, determine what is lacking, and make choices based on that intuition.
I have always enjoyed the process of cooking (it was the eating part that became a problem) as a creative outlet, and eating a primarily vegetarian diet over the last few months has once again sparked my love of food and natural ingredients. When in the depths of my eating disorder (and even for a few months while learning to eat normally again) I stuck to "routine" or "safe" foods, and was only eating about a dozen individual ingredients and foods. As LA helped me break down my restrictions, I started to expand the list more and more each day until very few foods provoked guilt, anxiety, or purging. Ironically, while eating as a vegetarian (and therefore elimintating a group of foods), I've been forced to create new strategies for recipes, seek out ingredients I would normally not eat, and expand my food list.
I am now truly enjoying the process of selecting foods I enjoy, cooking, and eating. This is a therapy team's dream for a eating disorder client, I'm sure; a major success that is not measured by weight gained or loss but by lifestyle and happiness and intuition and all that other intangible stuff that just makes my team melt.
My fear in posting this is that someone else with a tendency towards restriction may use eliminating a food group (or following a dietary "lifestyle") as an outlet for control or to mask disordered eating under a more socially acceptable label.
If that is the case for you, I challenge you to examine the motivation behind your choices, just as LA has challenged me to do many times before. For the choice itself is not necessarily indicative of an unhealthy lifestyle or pattern; rather the thought process behind it has the potential to be.
Had I refused to eat meat last summer while under LA's guidance, that decision would have been for all the wrong reasons. Now, that same choice reflects growth, awareness, and a newfound ability to listen to my body and make healthy choices that are right for me and preference-driven...not based in a need to control, achieve perfection, or lose weight.
Most of us can justify nearly any choice we make in life. The hard part is telling ourselves the truth behind the "why".
Friday, June 3, 2011
Friday, May 20, 2011
Triggered
I knew this time would come, but I did not think my ability to eat would be crippled by it. Not at this point in recovery, not after all the work I have done and hours I have spent to establish a healthy relationship with food no matter what.
But the time has come: a big, BIG trigger that has sent me spiraling into the kind of severe obsession cycle I thought I would never, ever experience again.
The trigger (let me retype that with a capital T: "Trigger") was a new rule about food in the office. A rule that, to most, would normally be met with the usual groaning, followed by a careless shoulder shrug once the initial venting subsides. But as hard as I tried to do the same and "set an example" as one of the leaders in the office, it was only a matter of days before I slid back into some seriously disordered thinking while trying to function under a new set of expectations.
The motivation behind establising the new rule is not necessarily something I disagree with: some of the desks within our office are in an open environment, and that set-up (existing within the already-casual environment of a college campus) lends itself to some level of unprofessionalism as people chow on their lunches while seating at their desks. Often, students are greeted by a receptionist whose greasy, fast-food smorgasbord is only an arm's length away. Sure, we were probably in need of a "professionalism makeover" in the office, specifically related to the amount of food being consumed at workstations.
Because several people in our work environment struggle to exist within shades of gray, the New Food Rule was presented in black and white: No food present in the office. No food at desks. No food in sight. Food only behind closed doors. The senior staff members (which includes me) are to set an example.
I didn't see it coming at first, but after four days of the following battle playing out in my head, I could see trying to exist within the new expectations was a recipe for disaster:
(These bullet points should be read as one big run-on sentence in order to even begin to understand how this all plays out in my head...and to really walk in my shoes, feel free to play it in your head for at least 6-8 hours a day and tell me how exhausted you feel):
When the process of eating becomes too complicated, too complex, too overwhelming...it's way too easy for someone in recovery to turn her back on it. And that's exactly what I started to do.
I was, of course, provided with accomodations that allowed me to eat throughout the day despite this rule. Now, I am not a person who likes "special treatment" and fairness and equality are two values I hold in high esteem, so the fact that I showed up for myself enough to even pursue that option means I obviously care a little more about my recovery than I did at this point a year ago.
But even the "exception to the rule" threw me into an obsessive, anorexic cycle that I lost control of almost as soon as it began. The FOOD = BAD/ FOOD = GUILT/ FOOD = SHAME messages started coming on at full force. What if others who are under me see me eating? Will they think I am "above" the rules? Isn't it elitist to have food on my desk when they cannot? And those messages very quickly morphed into:
What the hell. Who knew I'd be stopped dead in my tracks by an office food rule?
Well, apparently, this came as no surprise to JN and Dr. Joe, both of whom have graciously assisted me in pulling out of this mess of a trigger.
JN helped me see that the new set of expectations triggered all the negative feelings I used to hold about food: That I am somehow "bad" for needing to eat. That my hunger is not natural and should be ignored. That eating should bring about guilt. That I must not eat to "set an example" as someone who has a second job in fitness. That food needs to have rules and they must be strict and I deserve to pay (read: purge) when I break them.
Wow.
The parallels to my eating disordered mentality were glaringly obvious once she pointed them out. I have worked so hard to reverse this mindset, but the reality is that the distortion remains and still pulls me in when triggered.
Dr. Joe met with me this afternoon to work through the psychological piece of this mess, which helped me understand this big trigger even more:
*Flashling Lights!* BIG Connection Here:
When I first began working with Dr. Joe, two of my main values were pleasing others and earning respect.
The new expectation in the office related to food put my directives to eat and overcome food rules in direct opposition to these values. As a result, I didn't know which to pick.
IF I ATE: If someone saw me eating outside of the expectation, I would appear as "above the rules", and therefore not please those above me and not be able to earn respect from others in the office setting. Translate to an eating disorder patient: Food is totally not worth the hassle.
IF I DID NOT EAT: I would be setting a good example by following the rules. I would lose weight. I would get more work done. I would have my door open and be able to maintain open communication with my student assistant and coworkers, which I enjoy. Translate to an eating disorder patient: Food is totally not worth the hassle.
An anorexic, if she is not careful with her thoughts, can talk herself out of eating at the slightest notion of inconvenience. It was a recipe for disaster I should have seen coming.
But as with most triggers...I will miss them until they throw me off track.
Dr. Joe spent an hour with me today breaking down each and every message that is in my head at the moment about eating. I now have a counter-attack for every possible scenario this damn eating disorder could throw at me under this new set of expectations. I feel armed and ready to go.
I'll be having a nice (pre-planned) dinner out this evening with LA to get me back on track.
I'm glad it's Friday. Anorexia is kicking my ass this week.
As JN said to me last night: There is a reason recovery is extremely hard. You really have to work for it sometimes.
Ain't that the truth.
But the time has come: a big, BIG trigger that has sent me spiraling into the kind of severe obsession cycle I thought I would never, ever experience again.
The trigger (let me retype that with a capital T: "Trigger") was a new rule about food in the office. A rule that, to most, would normally be met with the usual groaning, followed by a careless shoulder shrug once the initial venting subsides. But as hard as I tried to do the same and "set an example" as one of the leaders in the office, it was only a matter of days before I slid back into some seriously disordered thinking while trying to function under a new set of expectations.
The motivation behind establising the new rule is not necessarily something I disagree with: some of the desks within our office are in an open environment, and that set-up (existing within the already-casual environment of a college campus) lends itself to some level of unprofessionalism as people chow on their lunches while seating at their desks. Often, students are greeted by a receptionist whose greasy, fast-food smorgasbord is only an arm's length away. Sure, we were probably in need of a "professionalism makeover" in the office, specifically related to the amount of food being consumed at workstations.
Because several people in our work environment struggle to exist within shades of gray, the New Food Rule was presented in black and white: No food present in the office. No food at desks. No food in sight. Food only behind closed doors. The senior staff members (which includes me) are to set an example.
I didn't see it coming at first, but after four days of the following battle playing out in my head, I could see trying to exist within the new expectations was a recipe for disaster:
(These bullet points should be read as one big run-on sentence in order to even begin to understand how this all plays out in my head...and to really walk in my shoes, feel free to play it in your head for at least 6-8 hours a day and tell me how exhausted you feel):
- It is 10:36 and I need to eat my apple and cheese.
- I have an office with a door. Should I shut my door during a time when I am supposed to be available to those in the office? But if I do, I will need to shut it for at least 20 minutes because I have to eat the apple and cheese slowly, because if I eat it too quickly I will feel full, and when I feel as though I've eaten too quickly and feel full, I will not want to eat my lunch. And if I dont eat my lunch, I am heading for relapse...and....and....and....fuck it, this is too much stress and too much to think about and I cannot eat this damn apple in the office so I'm not going to and just forget about it...
- My stomach is growling. JN and LA taught me this means I'm hungry. I needed that apple. Ok, I will take a bite of it. But when someone who does not have an office door walks by I will feel elitist and horrible, and I'm supposed to be setting an example as a leader in the office and they are watching me...and, okay, I'll take one bite.
- Shit! Someone just walked by twice and I have the apple and cheese out on my desk. Should I shut my door? But I CAN'T! What if people need me?!?!
- Food = BAD
- Hunger = BAD
- You eat way too much. No one else needs an apple and cheese in the morning. Just wait til lunch. Everyone else is fine. You should be too.
- You are different. You are a pain in the ass. You are the exception. You don't want rules to apply to you? What is wrong with you? Why can't you behave?
- Wait! JN and LA tell me I need that apple...shit, it's already in the trash...
- I'm not getting any work done, but my mind is reeling about food, weight, guilt, AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!! Make it stop!!!!
- Now it's lunch time. Shut your door. You're used to eating over the course of two hours but you're just going to need to figure this shit out. You're a leader. Set an example. No one else gets to eat all day. You need way too much food, you fat slob. Get it together.
- (Behind shut door) Hurry up and get this food down, you have to open your door, people need you. You work in education and should be helping people. You need to set an example, be a leader, work harder. Get the food down and open the door!
- Screw it. I cannot eat this fast, I am totally stressed out by all of this (and why won't my brain shut OFF!!!????!?!?). Tossing the lunch in the trash.
When the process of eating becomes too complicated, too complex, too overwhelming...it's way too easy for someone in recovery to turn her back on it. And that's exactly what I started to do.
I was, of course, provided with accomodations that allowed me to eat throughout the day despite this rule. Now, I am not a person who likes "special treatment" and fairness and equality are two values I hold in high esteem, so the fact that I showed up for myself enough to even pursue that option means I obviously care a little more about my recovery than I did at this point a year ago.
But even the "exception to the rule" threw me into an obsessive, anorexic cycle that I lost control of almost as soon as it began. The FOOD = BAD/ FOOD = GUILT/ FOOD = SHAME messages started coming on at full force. What if others who are under me see me eating? Will they think I am "above" the rules? Isn't it elitist to have food on my desk when they cannot? And those messages very quickly morphed into:
- Something is wrong with you.
- No one else needs to eat all day.
- You should feel guilty when people see you eat.
- You are a terrible leader if you eat at work.
- You do not need food.
What the hell. Who knew I'd be stopped dead in my tracks by an office food rule?
Well, apparently, this came as no surprise to JN and Dr. Joe, both of whom have graciously assisted me in pulling out of this mess of a trigger.
JN helped me see that the new set of expectations triggered all the negative feelings I used to hold about food: That I am somehow "bad" for needing to eat. That my hunger is not natural and should be ignored. That eating should bring about guilt. That I must not eat to "set an example" as someone who has a second job in fitness. That food needs to have rules and they must be strict and I deserve to pay (read: purge) when I break them.
Wow.
The parallels to my eating disordered mentality were glaringly obvious once she pointed them out. I have worked so hard to reverse this mindset, but the reality is that the distortion remains and still pulls me in when triggered.
Dr. Joe met with me this afternoon to work through the psychological piece of this mess, which helped me understand this big trigger even more:
*Flashling Lights!* BIG Connection Here:
When I first began working with Dr. Joe, two of my main values were pleasing others and earning respect.
The new expectation in the office related to food put my directives to eat and overcome food rules in direct opposition to these values. As a result, I didn't know which to pick.
IF I ATE: If someone saw me eating outside of the expectation, I would appear as "above the rules", and therefore not please those above me and not be able to earn respect from others in the office setting. Translate to an eating disorder patient: Food is totally not worth the hassle.
IF I DID NOT EAT: I would be setting a good example by following the rules. I would lose weight. I would get more work done. I would have my door open and be able to maintain open communication with my student assistant and coworkers, which I enjoy. Translate to an eating disorder patient: Food is totally not worth the hassle.
An anorexic, if she is not careful with her thoughts, can talk herself out of eating at the slightest notion of inconvenience. It was a recipe for disaster I should have seen coming.
But as with most triggers...I will miss them until they throw me off track.
Dr. Joe spent an hour with me today breaking down each and every message that is in my head at the moment about eating. I now have a counter-attack for every possible scenario this damn eating disorder could throw at me under this new set of expectations. I feel armed and ready to go.
I'll be having a nice (pre-planned) dinner out this evening with LA to get me back on track.
I'm glad it's Friday. Anorexia is kicking my ass this week.
As JN said to me last night: There is a reason recovery is extremely hard. You really have to work for it sometimes.
Ain't that the truth.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
How "Recovered" Am I?
A few weeks ago, Dr. Joe gave me an article on eating disorders in which the writer (a psychologist specializing in the treatment of anorexia) pondered the question "what does 'recovery' really look like?". I was asked to read this article and reflect upon it for my next appointment, which I did primarily to uphold my title as Perfect Patient (that statement is dripping in sarcasm, as I gave up on perfection months ago). As usual, however, other minor catastrophes and chaotic happenings popped up in between appointments and therefore hijacked the therapy topic train. Needless to say, we have not yet had the opportunity to discuss the content of article or, more importantly, what "recovery" looks like for me.
I caught myself thinking about this today after the idea of purging crept into my head out of nowhere. I have been, for the most part, eating whatever seems right to me and actually trusting my body's hunger cues. As a result, I have settled into a very healthy weight and maintained it without restricting. I can honestly say it has been almost two months since I've engaged in any sort of anorexia-inspired behavior, so the intense "need" to throw up a bite-sized Snickers bar I had eaten caught me by surprise. The fact that purging popped into my head as an acceptable way to manage my insecurity over what I had eaten infuriated me...I thought I was over this?
Most people who have never struggled with intense distortion related to food cannot comprehend the emotional magnitude of these obsessive ED episodes. For me, my automatic impulse to control my food intake kicks in, and a "mistake" such as eating a miniscule Snickers bar has the potential to send me spiraling into another starve-purge cycle if I let my guard down even for a moment.
So I guess I am not over this, per se. Although I may never be. Like any addiction or negative pattern of behavior, the psychological aspect to the disease still exists even when the behaviors diminish. "Recovery" really means no longer acting on the distortions, coping despite them, and conciously stopping myself from skipping meals or throwing up the tiniest Snickers bar on the planet just because my brain is telling me to.
A relapse into starvation and rapid weight loss is always standing right behind me; I just have to conciously fight the constant urge to actually turn around and greet it when it calls my name.
And people wonder why I need to drink so much Starbucks. This whole recovery thing requires a lot of energy, people.
It's a waste of that energy to get mad at myself when an "eating disorder" thought pops into my head or when my brain tells me purge a miniature piece of candy. The fact that such thoughts suddenly appear in my head doesn't mean my recovery efforts aren't working; rather the fact that I am able to dismiss the thoughts without action serves as the true litmus test for the strength of my recovery.
I used to think (until recently) that recovery meant eliminating all aspects of an eating disorder: medical, psychological, behavioral. I somehow believed I would not become a success story until my life was completely rid all things "anorexia". But in reality, that day may never come. Hence, it is silly to measure success and recovery against such an unrealistic standard. It's really about fixing the medical damage, modifying the behavioral patterns...and simply managing the psychological component so I can avoid eroding the progress made in the other two areas.
Similar to the desire to purge the candy, I have had other distorted "thoughts" recently that did not morph into eating disordered "actions":
In reality, there probably isn't a strategy in the world that will cause these thoughts to go away. They stem from an eating disorder I will more than likely always "have"...like an alcoholic who will always want to drink, but has to work hard each day to fight against from the magnetic pull of the bottle.
So maybe the fact that I...
...did NOT cut my food intake in half after trying on running clothes at Dick's Sporting Goods...
...did NOT use the caloric expenditure of a 13.1 mile run as the basis for my pre-race dinner choice...
...did NOT skip dinner last night even though I wanted to...
And...
...did NOT purge the Snickers bar, even though my mind told me to...
...means I'm more "recovered" than I think I am.
I caught myself thinking about this today after the idea of purging crept into my head out of nowhere. I have been, for the most part, eating whatever seems right to me and actually trusting my body's hunger cues. As a result, I have settled into a very healthy weight and maintained it without restricting. I can honestly say it has been almost two months since I've engaged in any sort of anorexia-inspired behavior, so the intense "need" to throw up a bite-sized Snickers bar I had eaten caught me by surprise. The fact that purging popped into my head as an acceptable way to manage my insecurity over what I had eaten infuriated me...I thought I was over this?
Most people who have never struggled with intense distortion related to food cannot comprehend the emotional magnitude of these obsessive ED episodes. For me, my automatic impulse to control my food intake kicks in, and a "mistake" such as eating a miniscule Snickers bar has the potential to send me spiraling into another starve-purge cycle if I let my guard down even for a moment.
So I guess I am not over this, per se. Although I may never be. Like any addiction or negative pattern of behavior, the psychological aspect to the disease still exists even when the behaviors diminish. "Recovery" really means no longer acting on the distortions, coping despite them, and conciously stopping myself from skipping meals or throwing up the tiniest Snickers bar on the planet just because my brain is telling me to.
A relapse into starvation and rapid weight loss is always standing right behind me; I just have to conciously fight the constant urge to actually turn around and greet it when it calls my name.
And people wonder why I need to drink so much Starbucks. This whole recovery thing requires a lot of energy, people.
It's a waste of that energy to get mad at myself when an "eating disorder" thought pops into my head or when my brain tells me purge a miniature piece of candy. The fact that such thoughts suddenly appear in my head doesn't mean my recovery efforts aren't working; rather the fact that I am able to dismiss the thoughts without action serves as the true litmus test for the strength of my recovery.
I used to think (until recently) that recovery meant eliminating all aspects of an eating disorder: medical, psychological, behavioral. I somehow believed I would not become a success story until my life was completely rid all things "anorexia". But in reality, that day may never come. Hence, it is silly to measure success and recovery against such an unrealistic standard. It's really about fixing the medical damage, modifying the behavioral patterns...and simply managing the psychological component so I can avoid eroding the progress made in the other two areas.
Similar to the desire to purge the candy, I have had other distorted "thoughts" recently that did not morph into eating disordered "actions":
- I felt a strong urge to cut my food intake immediately after catching a glimpse of "fat" (in quotations because I am not entirely sure if it's there, I cannot actually tell, as we all know) on my body while trying on potential race outfits at Dick's Sporting Goods the other day.
- I found myself mentally calculating the number of calories burned while running 13.1 miles at an 8:30 pace in an effort to not "overeat" the night before the Pittsburgh Marathon last weekend (as if you could really "overeat" as an endurance athlete...ah, distortion at its finest).
- I considered not eating dinner last night after realizing I had eaten some candy and a cookie throughout the day, as well as a small dessert the day before.
In reality, there probably isn't a strategy in the world that will cause these thoughts to go away. They stem from an eating disorder I will more than likely always "have"...like an alcoholic who will always want to drink, but has to work hard each day to fight against from the magnetic pull of the bottle.
So maybe the fact that I...
...did NOT cut my food intake in half after trying on running clothes at Dick's Sporting Goods...
...did NOT use the caloric expenditure of a 13.1 mile run as the basis for my pre-race dinner choice...
...did NOT skip dinner last night even though I wanted to...
And...
...did NOT purge the Snickers bar, even though my mind told me to...
...means I'm more "recovered" than I think I am.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Rarely do I link directly to the blogs of others, but I stumbled upon two of Carrie Arnold's (ED Bites) recent posts that resonated with me:
Marathon Metaphors (uses the last miles of the marathon as an analogy for the latter stages of ED recovery)
Trauma and Recovery (explains the growth, change, and transformation that occurs through recovery)
Props to Carrie for sharing her insight on these two topics. Great minds think alike, apparently!
Marathon Metaphors (uses the last miles of the marathon as an analogy for the latter stages of ED recovery)
Trauma and Recovery (explains the growth, change, and transformation that occurs through recovery)
Props to Carrie for sharing her insight on these two topics. Great minds think alike, apparently!
Monday, May 16, 2011
Untwisting the Lid and Unleashing...ME
As my recent posts explain, the current phase of my own personal recovery from anorexia involves accepting not only my new body, but the person that lives inside it day in and day out. It's now about owning who I am, what I look like, and what I set as priorities in my life. Regardless of the size I am or how much weight I gain or lose, what's living within will remain the same. So it's time to learn to love it.
During this phase and with the help of the unconditional love and support of some key people in my life I have arrived at a place in which I am no longer apologetic for the person I truly am.
I have, many times in my life, apologized for being intense, driven, or aggressive. I have, at times, bit my tongue, held back, or downplayed my competitive nature. I felt as though these qualities somehow eclipsed other, more "positive" characteristics; that I could not be a caring, sweet, loyal person while simultaneously chasing my goals with focus and determination. Seeing these firey aspects of my personality often led me to hate who I was; why could I not just be nice and passive and content?
Well, thanks to this latter "phase" of recovery, I can now own what's actually living in this body. No more apologies. Love it or hate it, I am aggressive. Driven. Intense.
I am also loyal, genuine, and caring. I do not climb over others to get where I want to go. I respect people, and my competitiveness rarely leaves victims lying in the dust I kick up as I take off towards what I want. I'm the first to celebrate the success of others, and I get a rewarding thrill from igniting fire in others and watching them achieve despite obstacles.
So, yes, it is possible to be both.
I ran another half marathon this past weekend (not surprising). I love the half marathon distance, and have ever since I started running a little over a year ago. In fact, my first race ever was a half marathon- quite a reflection of my personality, as most runners start with shorter races and add distance over time.
I will admit that after running my first full (26.2 mile) marathon back in March (and while injured, mind you), my motivation took a nosedive. I had achieved The Goal of running a full marathon, and I no longer felt like the only runner who had yet to cut that notch into the imaginary belt some of us runners feel like we wear when asked "so...what distances have you done?". I worked through some trying running-related experiences in the months following my first marathon: horrible training runs, residual pain from injuries trying to heal, and an overall lack of motivation that, at times, actually kept me off the roads.
But as yesterday's race approached, my natural and innate passion for competition started to creep back up. I really, truly have fun when I run. However, I have also never been one to back down from an opportunity to achieve a goal. This race was no exception, and as much as I tried to push down my natural aggression and desire to kick some ass, the more that flame sparked and grew.
This inner battle between my natural inclination towards achievement and my self-imposed "put-a-lid-on-it" restraint (often self-imposed after someone has criticized me for being "too much" or "too competitive") is what confirms to me that: 1. yes, there is some kind of bizarre fire in me 2. I do not know where it comes from, and 3. I need to embrace it, feed it, and tap into it without apology.
Like so many experiences in my life as of late, I approached yesterday's half marathon using the new approach my team has taught me: be the most authentic version of myself and don't apologize for it.
I wanted to run a kick ass race. I wanted to push it and crush my goal. I wanted to experience a high at the finish line. So I f%&k-ing did.
I ran that race in a zone, and did not look around. I sprinted down the downhill portions to bag time for the inclines. I passed people left and right and sprinted straight through 13.1 miles, motivated by the kind of pure determination and aggression I can tap into when I really, really want something. And I ran those 13.1 miles in one hour, 52 minutes: a goal I didn't think I could reach until the end of this summer.
And the result was one of those great moments I draw strength from: the high I gain not from the achievement, but from knowing I was 100% myself and resisted the urge to "temper" my true self. I wanted to run an aggressive, exhilarating race. I did not care if anyone viewed me as overly competitive, overly focused, or putting energy into something relatively "meaningless". It felt right to me. So I went with it.
When I stopped trying to talk myself out of what felt right to me, I got to experience the amazing high that comes from putting everything I had into a two hour run.
When I stopped trying to talk myself out of what felt right to me... I started to recover from anorexia. From self-destruction. From self-hate.
Almost the second I crossed the line, however, the switch flipped. I had friends running the race too, and my thoughts immediately shifted to them, their successes, their celebrations. Yeah, I can be a raging, narrowly focused beast ("Badger", as my friends call it) when I want something. But I can love like hell too and the most aggressive version of my inner beast is reserved for those who mess with the people who have proved their loyalty to me and stand with me through triumphs and failures. Ultimately, sharing our successes with those we love produces the ultimate "win".
I am never going to qualify for the Olympics or put my job aside to play sports for a living. At the end of the day, competition is just a hobby, an outlet for my energy and intensity. Some may view my approach to life as too intense, and that's okay. After spending the last year learning to embrace my genuine self, I can now see that this determination can be used for good (turning dreams into realities) or bad (starving myself in pursuit of perfection).
Either way, the fire is there. It is part of me, and it's been given to me for a reason. It just took this recovery process to accept that it exists as part of my nature, to harness its power, and to use it to get what I want out of life and not destroy myself instead.
We are just not meant to "put a lid on it". Rather, we are challenged to open up, go for what we want, and put it out there for the world to see. A lot of energy exists under the pressure of that lid.
Unleashing it can help us overcome insecurities, experience memorable highs, and develop the confidence to be who we really are...not who others want us to be.
During this phase and with the help of the unconditional love and support of some key people in my life I have arrived at a place in which I am no longer apologetic for the person I truly am.
I have, many times in my life, apologized for being intense, driven, or aggressive. I have, at times, bit my tongue, held back, or downplayed my competitive nature. I felt as though these qualities somehow eclipsed other, more "positive" characteristics; that I could not be a caring, sweet, loyal person while simultaneously chasing my goals with focus and determination. Seeing these firey aspects of my personality often led me to hate who I was; why could I not just be nice and passive and content?
Well, thanks to this latter "phase" of recovery, I can now own what's actually living in this body. No more apologies. Love it or hate it, I am aggressive. Driven. Intense.
I am also loyal, genuine, and caring. I do not climb over others to get where I want to go. I respect people, and my competitiveness rarely leaves victims lying in the dust I kick up as I take off towards what I want. I'm the first to celebrate the success of others, and I get a rewarding thrill from igniting fire in others and watching them achieve despite obstacles.
So, yes, it is possible to be both.
I ran another half marathon this past weekend (not surprising). I love the half marathon distance, and have ever since I started running a little over a year ago. In fact, my first race ever was a half marathon- quite a reflection of my personality, as most runners start with shorter races and add distance over time.
I will admit that after running my first full (26.2 mile) marathon back in March (and while injured, mind you), my motivation took a nosedive. I had achieved The Goal of running a full marathon, and I no longer felt like the only runner who had yet to cut that notch into the imaginary belt some of us runners feel like we wear when asked "so...what distances have you done?". I worked through some trying running-related experiences in the months following my first marathon: horrible training runs, residual pain from injuries trying to heal, and an overall lack of motivation that, at times, actually kept me off the roads.
But as yesterday's race approached, my natural and innate passion for competition started to creep back up. I really, truly have fun when I run. However, I have also never been one to back down from an opportunity to achieve a goal. This race was no exception, and as much as I tried to push down my natural aggression and desire to kick some ass, the more that flame sparked and grew.
This inner battle between my natural inclination towards achievement and my self-imposed "put-a-lid-on-it" restraint (often self-imposed after someone has criticized me for being "too much" or "too competitive") is what confirms to me that: 1. yes, there is some kind of bizarre fire in me 2. I do not know where it comes from, and 3. I need to embrace it, feed it, and tap into it without apology.
Like so many experiences in my life as of late, I approached yesterday's half marathon using the new approach my team has taught me: be the most authentic version of myself and don't apologize for it.
I wanted to run a kick ass race. I wanted to push it and crush my goal. I wanted to experience a high at the finish line. So I f%&k-ing did.
I ran that race in a zone, and did not look around. I sprinted down the downhill portions to bag time for the inclines. I passed people left and right and sprinted straight through 13.1 miles, motivated by the kind of pure determination and aggression I can tap into when I really, really want something. And I ran those 13.1 miles in one hour, 52 minutes: a goal I didn't think I could reach until the end of this summer.
And the result was one of those great moments I draw strength from: the high I gain not from the achievement, but from knowing I was 100% myself and resisted the urge to "temper" my true self. I wanted to run an aggressive, exhilarating race. I did not care if anyone viewed me as overly competitive, overly focused, or putting energy into something relatively "meaningless". It felt right to me. So I went with it.
When I stopped trying to talk myself out of what felt right to me, I got to experience the amazing high that comes from putting everything I had into a two hour run.
When I stopped trying to talk myself out of what felt right to me... I started to recover from anorexia. From self-destruction. From self-hate.
Almost the second I crossed the line, however, the switch flipped. I had friends running the race too, and my thoughts immediately shifted to them, their successes, their celebrations. Yeah, I can be a raging, narrowly focused beast ("Badger", as my friends call it) when I want something. But I can love like hell too and the most aggressive version of my inner beast is reserved for those who mess with the people who have proved their loyalty to me and stand with me through triumphs and failures. Ultimately, sharing our successes with those we love produces the ultimate "win".
I am never going to qualify for the Olympics or put my job aside to play sports for a living. At the end of the day, competition is just a hobby, an outlet for my energy and intensity. Some may view my approach to life as too intense, and that's okay. After spending the last year learning to embrace my genuine self, I can now see that this determination can be used for good (turning dreams into realities) or bad (starving myself in pursuit of perfection).
Either way, the fire is there. It is part of me, and it's been given to me for a reason. It just took this recovery process to accept that it exists as part of my nature, to harness its power, and to use it to get what I want out of life and not destroy myself instead.
We are just not meant to "put a lid on it". Rather, we are challenged to open up, go for what we want, and put it out there for the world to see. A lot of energy exists under the pressure of that lid.
Unleashing it can help us overcome insecurities, experience memorable highs, and develop the confidence to be who we really are...not who others want us to be.
Monday, May 2, 2011
The Birthday Mentality: 365 Days a Year
This past weekend falls within the Top Ten Moments of My Life.
Other moments that fall within this category are my wedding day, my first marathon, and just about every single trip I've ever taken with my girlfriends from graduate school.
Friends can attest that I have never been a birthday "partier". In fact, my birthday (excluding #21, which was one hell of a bash) is typically celebrated rather intimately and the plans are made by others around me who seem to care a lot more than I do. I'm sure this general downplaying of the day of my birth can be traced back to my rocky relationship with my mother, my shockingly low sense of self-worth, and my general attitude of mistrust in people, but we'll let Dr. Joe create those connections.
However, my approach to birthdays has always been this: Anything involving MY birthday belongs to me and me alone. I do what I want and I really do not care if people do not like it. The other days of the year, I may be a little more willing to compromise...or at least not kick and scream.
Recent birthdays have included the following celebratory I-do-what-I-want events:
Bottom line is: When it's my birthday, I do what I want.
It's no understatement that my 28th year was one of the toughest on many, many levels. Let's face it, when I suddenly realized I spent the majority of an entire calendar year either in the presence of or in constant communication with a doctor, a dietitian, and a therapist, I was ready to bury 28 and ring in 29 with a new approach.
I kept the "I do what I want" mentality when planning out this weekend, but it was taken to a whole new level. Nothing was going to stop me from being ME for three days straight:
1. Friday night: Joint Birthday Party- My running friends are some of my closest. An eclectic group of individuals who would probably never interact with one another under normal circumstances, we share an unbreakable and close bond crafted entirely from our love of this ridiculous physical activity.
There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to celebrate my birthday with this second family of mine, so when I realized four of us had birthdays within weeks of one another, it provided me with the perfect excuse to plan a large group dinner at a restaurant many of them had been wanting to try.
Many hours of laughter and intoxication later, I found myself in the passenger seat of our car (The Mr. was driving, of course, a rare role reversal after a night out), looking up at the stars and thanking god for connecting me with such an awesome group of people who accept the Genuine Me, laugh and carry on with one another like family, and support one another through all of life's peaks and valleys...both on and off the running course.
Saturday- Everything I Love in One Day: I ran a (dehydrated) long run of 13 miles with a friend. It was beautiful outside. In between my "I really need to get back into training" and "why did you do that last shot last night?" thoughts, I felt a sense of appreciation for this breathtaking area and the fact that I am able to spend my weekend mornings killing my legs in a National Park trail system I love so much. Pure. Bliss.
This run was immediately (well, I showered first) followed by an outlet shopping excursion with three of my girlfriends, during which I discovered I am now, apparently, a pretty solid size 4-6 and somehow avoided a total breakdown. To my surprise, the fact that I had to purchase work pants in a larger size did not throw me into a tailspin; rather I shrugged it off and reminded myself that I'm an athlete, I'm active, and that I need to eventually figure out my natural weight setpoint anyhow. My calm acceptance of this situation was bizarre, yet not at all coincidental that I was able to put poor body image and distortion aside when feeling secure, loved, and happy among friends...
After shopping, I kept the promise I made to myself during the Great Closet Cleanout and rid myself of a pair of shoes, two tank tops, a pair of pants, and sweater. A one-for-one tradeoff to make room in my now-minimalist wardrobe for the newly purchased pieces.
Then, another dinner/drinks night out on the town. I had organized this one to include other close friends (mostly outside of the running circle), and met ten of them out for dinner and drinks at a restaurant that has played host to many of our special celebratory moments: graduations, bachelorette parties, births, anniversaries, and the like.The group, some of whom had never met, and I closed the night with more laughter, more conversation, more martinis, and more wine at another nice establishment down the street.
I went to bed that night feeling a new kind of full; the fullness that doesn't necessarily come from food, but is derived from simply being oneself, yet reaping the benefits of solid, unconditional friendships with those who have watched me transform...and loved me even more for it.
Sunday- Drying Out/ Enjoying Some More: Despite my second morning of party-induced dehydration, I crawled out of bed at 7:00 AM to meet the girls for a trail run in the rain. I have no idea where this kind of motivation comes from, but it's just who I am and I guess I don't have to understand it...only embrace it.
On this particular run, M, who is normally a bit of a nature-hater ("Someone really needs to come clean this trail up because it is MUDDY") wanted to climb a giant hill on an unfamiliar stretch of the park system to "see what was at the top". After dragging ourselves up a relatively untraveled path, we found ourselves at one of the highest peaks in the park system. Standing in the quiet rain, surrounded by nothing but the outdoors I love so much, I suddenly realized life is as close to perfect as it's ever been.
An hour later, I found myself (no longer covered in mud and transformed into the publicly acceptable version of myself) at lunch with E., my new coworker and friend. The instant trust and mutual respect she and I have established has been a wonderful gateway into yet another new friendship, and we later joined other coworkers for a theatre production to support one of our charismatic student assistants.
Dinner and a movie at LA's house with her family capped off the day, allowing me to unwind surrounded by a family that has become like my own, in a house that I feel comfortable enough visiting in my sweats, and on a sofa I am known to fall asleep on from time to time.
Which brings me to today: a planned vacation day (I never take for granted that I can take these just about any time I want) and one of my biweekly appointments with JN.
It was in the comfort of JN's office this afternoon that I realized the significance of this pre-birthday weekend, and was convinced that adopting The Birthday Mentality as a way of life will help me walk away from this eating disorder once and for all.
Food (as well as how, when and why I consume it) is obviously JN's main concern as a dietitian/body image guru. However, as I have learned throughout the recovery process, my actions and thoughts related to food practically rip the bandage off any emotions I'm trying to ignore or suppress.
In reading my account of this weekend's activities, you may have been searching for a food reference: my thoughts as I indulged in back-to-back dinners out, how I used my running to compensate for my "indulgences" or the like. But you didn't find any...because food (and the obsessive ED thought process related to it) was virtually non-existent as I lived out an entire weekend founded in The Birthday Mentality: I do what I want.
I am who I am. I do what I want.
I ate what I wanted. I wore what I wanted. I said what I wanted. With the exception of a few friends who 1. couldn't make it, or 2. live far, far away...I gave time, energy, and attention to the people I wanted, those who take me as I am and enjoy every minute of it.
I am so Me right now, it's scary. But I love it.
Which brings me full circle to the body/food piece (the foundational subject matter of this blog!)...
Without realizing it, I have begun to adopt the so-called Birthday Mentality 365 days a year: living a genuine life, eliminating guilt, dropping the self-imposed bar from perfectionism to happiness. Given how strongly I now feel about this approach to living, not accepting my body for what it truly is seems downright hypocritical.
I can't be Me all the time if I keep trying to change the shell, the packaging. I need to let it be. The packaging needs to match the product...real, lacking judgment, genuine.
The Birthday Mentality is going to be sticking around. JN and I agree...it's the best way to ensure that I am living and eating based on intuition. Every day is now my birthday. Which means the next 364 days need to be approached with the "I do what I want" (read: I eat what I want, I listen to my needs, I put my own self-care first, I surround myself with those who respect me). And on May 3rd of next year, I will renew that commitment and continue on into the next year with the same Birthday Mentality. And the next, and the next.
The Birthday Mentality is about really owning who we are, what we need, and shedding the crap. It's about saving our energy for the people, experiences, and relationships that fall on the priority list on the one day each year when we allow ourselves to just BE.
Being ourselves, doing what feels right, and reflecting our priorities. Not caring what others think. Living as we truly are, without apology...
...365 days a year.
Other moments that fall within this category are my wedding day, my first marathon, and just about every single trip I've ever taken with my girlfriends from graduate school.
Friends can attest that I have never been a birthday "partier". In fact, my birthday (excluding #21, which was one hell of a bash) is typically celebrated rather intimately and the plans are made by others around me who seem to care a lot more than I do. I'm sure this general downplaying of the day of my birth can be traced back to my rocky relationship with my mother, my shockingly low sense of self-worth, and my general attitude of mistrust in people, but we'll let Dr. Joe create those connections.
However, my approach to birthdays has always been this: Anything involving MY birthday belongs to me and me alone. I do what I want and I really do not care if people do not like it. The other days of the year, I may be a little more willing to compromise...or at least not kick and scream.
Recent birthdays have included the following celebratory I-do-what-I-want events:
- Birthday #28- Spent two hours locked in a local community college testing center taking the hardest exam of my life to earn my personal training certification through the American College of Sports Medicine. Certainly not a party, but I wanted that license badly and didn't care if it was my birthday or not...I was taking the damn exam. The Mr. and I celebrated this achievement with dinner at a cheap Mexican joint (because, well, that's what I wanted), me in sweats and without make-up. I'm certain I purged that meal anyhow, as I was in the depths of anorexia at the time and really was not puting effort into anything but trying to destroy my body (obviously reflective of my self-worth at the time). Happy birthday to me.
- Birthday #27- Phone calls, emails, text messages coming in weeks in advance as my friends try to make plans with me. I turned them all down, persuaded my husband to go on a long bike ride, went to a nice dinner, and was in bed by 11:00. I believe I met three of my good friends a few days later for a casual Sunday lunch on the dock of a lakeside restaurant and that was that.
- Birthday #26- Took the day off work and shopped all day...solo.
Bottom line is: When it's my birthday, I do what I want.
It's no understatement that my 28th year was one of the toughest on many, many levels. Let's face it, when I suddenly realized I spent the majority of an entire calendar year either in the presence of or in constant communication with a doctor, a dietitian, and a therapist, I was ready to bury 28 and ring in 29 with a new approach.
I kept the "I do what I want" mentality when planning out this weekend, but it was taken to a whole new level. Nothing was going to stop me from being ME for three days straight:
1. Friday night: Joint Birthday Party- My running friends are some of my closest. An eclectic group of individuals who would probably never interact with one another under normal circumstances, we share an unbreakable and close bond crafted entirely from our love of this ridiculous physical activity.
There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to celebrate my birthday with this second family of mine, so when I realized four of us had birthdays within weeks of one another, it provided me with the perfect excuse to plan a large group dinner at a restaurant many of them had been wanting to try.
Many hours of laughter and intoxication later, I found myself in the passenger seat of our car (The Mr. was driving, of course, a rare role reversal after a night out), looking up at the stars and thanking god for connecting me with such an awesome group of people who accept the Genuine Me, laugh and carry on with one another like family, and support one another through all of life's peaks and valleys...both on and off the running course.
Saturday- Everything I Love in One Day: I ran a (dehydrated) long run of 13 miles with a friend. It was beautiful outside. In between my "I really need to get back into training" and "why did you do that last shot last night?" thoughts, I felt a sense of appreciation for this breathtaking area and the fact that I am able to spend my weekend mornings killing my legs in a National Park trail system I love so much. Pure. Bliss.
This run was immediately (well, I showered first) followed by an outlet shopping excursion with three of my girlfriends, during which I discovered I am now, apparently, a pretty solid size 4-6 and somehow avoided a total breakdown. To my surprise, the fact that I had to purchase work pants in a larger size did not throw me into a tailspin; rather I shrugged it off and reminded myself that I'm an athlete, I'm active, and that I need to eventually figure out my natural weight setpoint anyhow. My calm acceptance of this situation was bizarre, yet not at all coincidental that I was able to put poor body image and distortion aside when feeling secure, loved, and happy among friends...
After shopping, I kept the promise I made to myself during the Great Closet Cleanout and rid myself of a pair of shoes, two tank tops, a pair of pants, and sweater. A one-for-one tradeoff to make room in my now-minimalist wardrobe for the newly purchased pieces.
Then, another dinner/drinks night out on the town. I had organized this one to include other close friends (mostly outside of the running circle), and met ten of them out for dinner and drinks at a restaurant that has played host to many of our special celebratory moments: graduations, bachelorette parties, births, anniversaries, and the like.The group, some of whom had never met, and I closed the night with more laughter, more conversation, more martinis, and more wine at another nice establishment down the street.
I went to bed that night feeling a new kind of full; the fullness that doesn't necessarily come from food, but is derived from simply being oneself, yet reaping the benefits of solid, unconditional friendships with those who have watched me transform...and loved me even more for it.
Sunday- Drying Out/ Enjoying Some More: Despite my second morning of party-induced dehydration, I crawled out of bed at 7:00 AM to meet the girls for a trail run in the rain. I have no idea where this kind of motivation comes from, but it's just who I am and I guess I don't have to understand it...only embrace it.
On this particular run, M, who is normally a bit of a nature-hater ("Someone really needs to come clean this trail up because it is MUDDY") wanted to climb a giant hill on an unfamiliar stretch of the park system to "see what was at the top". After dragging ourselves up a relatively untraveled path, we found ourselves at one of the highest peaks in the park system. Standing in the quiet rain, surrounded by nothing but the outdoors I love so much, I suddenly realized life is as close to perfect as it's ever been.
An hour later, I found myself (no longer covered in mud and transformed into the publicly acceptable version of myself) at lunch with E., my new coworker and friend. The instant trust and mutual respect she and I have established has been a wonderful gateway into yet another new friendship, and we later joined other coworkers for a theatre production to support one of our charismatic student assistants.
Dinner and a movie at LA's house with her family capped off the day, allowing me to unwind surrounded by a family that has become like my own, in a house that I feel comfortable enough visiting in my sweats, and on a sofa I am known to fall asleep on from time to time.
Which brings me to today: a planned vacation day (I never take for granted that I can take these just about any time I want) and one of my biweekly appointments with JN.
It was in the comfort of JN's office this afternoon that I realized the significance of this pre-birthday weekend, and was convinced that adopting The Birthday Mentality as a way of life will help me walk away from this eating disorder once and for all.
Food (as well as how, when and why I consume it) is obviously JN's main concern as a dietitian/body image guru. However, as I have learned throughout the recovery process, my actions and thoughts related to food practically rip the bandage off any emotions I'm trying to ignore or suppress.
In reading my account of this weekend's activities, you may have been searching for a food reference: my thoughts as I indulged in back-to-back dinners out, how I used my running to compensate for my "indulgences" or the like. But you didn't find any...because food (and the obsessive ED thought process related to it) was virtually non-existent as I lived out an entire weekend founded in The Birthday Mentality: I do what I want.
I am who I am. I do what I want.
I ate what I wanted. I wore what I wanted. I said what I wanted. With the exception of a few friends who 1. couldn't make it, or 2. live far, far away...I gave time, energy, and attention to the people I wanted, those who take me as I am and enjoy every minute of it.
I am so Me right now, it's scary. But I love it.
Which brings me full circle to the body/food piece (the foundational subject matter of this blog!)...
Without realizing it, I have begun to adopt the so-called Birthday Mentality 365 days a year: living a genuine life, eliminating guilt, dropping the self-imposed bar from perfectionism to happiness. Given how strongly I now feel about this approach to living, not accepting my body for what it truly is seems downright hypocritical.
I can't be Me all the time if I keep trying to change the shell, the packaging. I need to let it be. The packaging needs to match the product...real, lacking judgment, genuine.
The Birthday Mentality is going to be sticking around. JN and I agree...it's the best way to ensure that I am living and eating based on intuition. Every day is now my birthday. Which means the next 364 days need to be approached with the "I do what I want" (read: I eat what I want, I listen to my needs, I put my own self-care first, I surround myself with those who respect me). And on May 3rd of next year, I will renew that commitment and continue on into the next year with the same Birthday Mentality. And the next, and the next.
The Birthday Mentality is about really owning who we are, what we need, and shedding the crap. It's about saving our energy for the people, experiences, and relationships that fall on the priority list on the one day each year when we allow ourselves to just BE.
Being ourselves, doing what feels right, and reflecting our priorities. Not caring what others think. Living as we truly are, without apology...
...365 days a year.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Listening to My Body...And It Wants Chips
Why the hell am I suddenly drawn to potato chips? There is a massive bag of them sitting on the back counter at work, and they are pulling me in like a moth to a flame.
While food (especially the junk variety) holds an almost sacred place in my office, my colleagues do a piss poor job of preserving it. The industrial sized bag of chips (truly- as it was donated to the office by a student of mine who works at the Shearer's factory) was "sealed" shut with a barely twisted metal tie as we fled the office at 5:01 last Friday afternoon.
Regardless of the fact that everyone's germ-infested hands have now been in the bag at least a half dozen times and the chips are now stale from two days spent absorbing the office air, we continue to munch on them mindlessly as we wait for the copier to spit out our duplicates.
I spent all weekend ridden with anxiety over what to eat at our multiple Easter dinners...but for some reason, stale, germ-infested potato chips are passing the ED test.
I really have no explanation for this behavior. Except that I'm starving lately and if I eat "intuitively" (JN buzzword) I would probably consume 10,000 calories (mostly comprised of potato chips) in one sitting. Because that is what my "intuition" is telling (no, screaming, actually) me to do.
Despite all the medical issues, psychological battles, therapy sessions, and forced nutrition...the moments that have reversed me back into a kicking and screaming little brat have been those involving real, genuine, physiological hunger.
Hunger genuinely pisses me off, even though I know this rebellious response defies everything I have been taught while learning to feed myself again. I do not like being hungry, and my life was "easier" when I had trained my body to not feel hunger, to ignore it, to function without food. I frame the word "easier" with quotation marks, as it was really quite the opposite; I just couldn't see it at the time.
Why would hunger piss off a formerly anorexic person? Well, because I now have to respond to it. And not only respond to it (which in and of itself feels unnatural and wrong), but try to apply "new" and "healthy" strategies such as listening to my body, eating a variety of foods that cannot be found on the fallback safe list, and warding off the anxious ED voice that tells me I need to get rid of it all immediately anyhow (fading, yet still lingering).
When I was first starting to eat again, I didn't have to listen to hunger cues. In fact, quite the opposite. I had a plan. I followed it. I ate at set times and stuck to recommended combinations of foods. I ate regardless of whether or not I was hungry, and any opportunity for overthinking was removed from the process. Eating the plan = Happy Dietitian, Happy Therapist, Happy Doctor. Unhappy Patient...but that didn't really matter.
I thought that's what "recovery" looked like. Eating meals. I'm putting food into my body...isn't that what you people want, for chrissake?!
Eating intuitively (or following the cues of the body) is one of the hardest things for me to wrap my head around. Although my relationship with food is much healthier than it once was, I still tend to view food as a means to an end. I eat the same foods a lot because I know what is in them and can eat them mindlessly. Mostly, the combinations are carefully thought out and calculated: protein because I am an active person who needs to build muscle mass again. Carbs because I need energy. Fat because LA once convinced me I need it. However, I rarely incorporate things because I just crave the ingredients or the texture or the taste. In my ED-conditioned mind, food is still somewhat scientific.
Hunger also brings with it the sheer annoyance of cravings that fall outside of my habitual food routine, and the internal battle that occurs as I think through whether or not to follow the cue (although I should be following it each and every time, according to JN, but I'm not there just yet). Case in point: the potato chips. To eat or not to eat. The question can be mulled over for hours and hours until I realize: 1. I'm out of my mind and just need to give it up all ready, or 2. I'm incapable of listening to my body and therefore reach out to LA, JN or some other person who just tell me what to do...and they will tell me to eat the goddamn thing...and then I will.
Lately, JN and LA gently push me towards intuitive eating. I'm in the later stages of recovery where I really do need to learn to eat and function in the real world. While I'm sure they thoroughly enjoy my panicked "OMG, I think I need a cookie right now so what should I do" texts, they could probably pick up new forms of entertainment along the way. While intuitive eating makes a lot of sense to me in theory, the actual practice of such a thing often seems bizarre, given some of the cravings that hit me like a ton of bricks. Does my body really need potato chips? Is there ever really a time when my body "misses" brownies so much that it just has to have one? What ingredient in chocolate chip cookies is my body not getting elsewhere?
Weird.
The key to this, as I've learned, is viewing all foods as neutral. LA used to preach this, and now JN has picked up this crusade right where she left off. No food is "good"; no food is "bad". That's a hard lesson for a recovering anorexic to learn when magazines, talk shows, television commercials, and weight loss television shows sing a different tune.
However, I can no longer act like I don't understand why my body is craving such things, thanks to a conversation with LA today during which she reminded me of some of her earlier teachings:
1. My body is, quite frankly, sick of the safe foods. And I'm getting kind of sick of them too. So it's probably time to switch it up a bit. Shake it up. Live on the edge and have some chips.
2. After a recent dip in eating (yeah, I lost a few pounds but have restored them after realizing I was heading straight for intensive help yet again if I didn't cut it out), my metabolism is recharged and ready to go burn up some food. Chips, specifically.
Given the fact that most individuals (stereotyping a bit here, although clinicians do it too which makes it okay) who fall into the spiral of disordered eating are slight (ah-hem) perfectionists (cough, cough), chucking the plan out the window and trusting the body isn't exactly a natural course of action. Toss in the fact that I once trained my mind to ignore my body's cues, and, well, learning to eat intuitively is a little like driving without a GPS. On a highway with no signs...or gas stations to inquire about directions...on a different continent...
I'll get there. Patience has just never been a virtue of mine.
On the body dysmorphia front, I'm, well.....trying as best I can. Today, I could've sworn my arms had lost all muscle tone in the last three days and I had suddenly become doughy and soft. I also convinced myself I could feel my (nonexistent) stomach jiggling as I walked down the hallway at work. I was later brought bakc down to earth when I realized I was still wearing the same size jeans I've been wearing for the last four months. Big sigh of relief.
I have to be okay letting my body achieve its natural setpoint. This I know and I vow I will let it happen. But it doesn't mean it is a pleasant experience in the meantime.
Looking to bitch a little to someone who gets this kind of insanity, I fired off a text to JN late this afternoon: I'm trying very very hard to believe I do not have fat arms right now. Imagine me with my eyes closed, thinking really hard. I probably look like the 4-year-old version of myself trying to make a birthday wish. I was super cute back then, BTW.
I didn't hear back from her right away, so finished up my day at the office and headed to my second gig at the gym. When I finally retrieved my phone from my bag, she had written back: I know you were cute. Still doing okay with that, ya know ;) Keep paying attention to emotions and expressing them effectively. Strong relationship to distortions here.
Me: Oh. Well, I feel better now that I ripped my arms up at the gym and taught a cycling class.
JN: Oooookaaaaay. Not quite what I had in mind.
Me (even though I know better, but just playing around): Oh. Damn. I thought that's what you would suggest. My bad.
Perhaps I need a WWMDD band for my wrist.
What Would My Dietitian Do?
Signing off. My body wants some orange juice before bed. Must be lacking vitamin C or pulp pieces or something. Who knows, but what the body wants, the body is supposed to get.
While food (especially the junk variety) holds an almost sacred place in my office, my colleagues do a piss poor job of preserving it. The industrial sized bag of chips (truly- as it was donated to the office by a student of mine who works at the Shearer's factory) was "sealed" shut with a barely twisted metal tie as we fled the office at 5:01 last Friday afternoon.
Regardless of the fact that everyone's germ-infested hands have now been in the bag at least a half dozen times and the chips are now stale from two days spent absorbing the office air, we continue to munch on them mindlessly as we wait for the copier to spit out our duplicates.
I spent all weekend ridden with anxiety over what to eat at our multiple Easter dinners...but for some reason, stale, germ-infested potato chips are passing the ED test.
I really have no explanation for this behavior. Except that I'm starving lately and if I eat "intuitively" (JN buzzword) I would probably consume 10,000 calories (mostly comprised of potato chips) in one sitting. Because that is what my "intuition" is telling (no, screaming, actually) me to do.
Despite all the medical issues, psychological battles, therapy sessions, and forced nutrition...the moments that have reversed me back into a kicking and screaming little brat have been those involving real, genuine, physiological hunger.
Hunger genuinely pisses me off, even though I know this rebellious response defies everything I have been taught while learning to feed myself again. I do not like being hungry, and my life was "easier" when I had trained my body to not feel hunger, to ignore it, to function without food. I frame the word "easier" with quotation marks, as it was really quite the opposite; I just couldn't see it at the time.
Why would hunger piss off a formerly anorexic person? Well, because I now have to respond to it. And not only respond to it (which in and of itself feels unnatural and wrong), but try to apply "new" and "healthy" strategies such as listening to my body, eating a variety of foods that cannot be found on the fallback safe list, and warding off the anxious ED voice that tells me I need to get rid of it all immediately anyhow (fading, yet still lingering).
When I was first starting to eat again, I didn't have to listen to hunger cues. In fact, quite the opposite. I had a plan. I followed it. I ate at set times and stuck to recommended combinations of foods. I ate regardless of whether or not I was hungry, and any opportunity for overthinking was removed from the process. Eating the plan = Happy Dietitian, Happy Therapist, Happy Doctor. Unhappy Patient...but that didn't really matter.
I thought that's what "recovery" looked like. Eating meals. I'm putting food into my body...isn't that what you people want, for chrissake?!
Eating intuitively (or following the cues of the body) is one of the hardest things for me to wrap my head around. Although my relationship with food is much healthier than it once was, I still tend to view food as a means to an end. I eat the same foods a lot because I know what is in them and can eat them mindlessly. Mostly, the combinations are carefully thought out and calculated: protein because I am an active person who needs to build muscle mass again. Carbs because I need energy. Fat because LA once convinced me I need it. However, I rarely incorporate things because I just crave the ingredients or the texture or the taste. In my ED-conditioned mind, food is still somewhat scientific.
Hunger also brings with it the sheer annoyance of cravings that fall outside of my habitual food routine, and the internal battle that occurs as I think through whether or not to follow the cue (although I should be following it each and every time, according to JN, but I'm not there just yet). Case in point: the potato chips. To eat or not to eat. The question can be mulled over for hours and hours until I realize: 1. I'm out of my mind and just need to give it up all ready, or 2. I'm incapable of listening to my body and therefore reach out to LA, JN or some other person who just tell me what to do...and they will tell me to eat the goddamn thing...and then I will.
Lately, JN and LA gently push me towards intuitive eating. I'm in the later stages of recovery where I really do need to learn to eat and function in the real world. While I'm sure they thoroughly enjoy my panicked "OMG, I think I need a cookie right now so what should I do" texts, they could probably pick up new forms of entertainment along the way. While intuitive eating makes a lot of sense to me in theory, the actual practice of such a thing often seems bizarre, given some of the cravings that hit me like a ton of bricks. Does my body really need potato chips? Is there ever really a time when my body "misses" brownies so much that it just has to have one? What ingredient in chocolate chip cookies is my body not getting elsewhere?
Weird.
The key to this, as I've learned, is viewing all foods as neutral. LA used to preach this, and now JN has picked up this crusade right where she left off. No food is "good"; no food is "bad". That's a hard lesson for a recovering anorexic to learn when magazines, talk shows, television commercials, and weight loss television shows sing a different tune.
However, I can no longer act like I don't understand why my body is craving such things, thanks to a conversation with LA today during which she reminded me of some of her earlier teachings:
1. My body is, quite frankly, sick of the safe foods. And I'm getting kind of sick of them too. So it's probably time to switch it up a bit. Shake it up. Live on the edge and have some chips.
2. After a recent dip in eating (yeah, I lost a few pounds but have restored them after realizing I was heading straight for intensive help yet again if I didn't cut it out), my metabolism is recharged and ready to go burn up some food. Chips, specifically.
Given the fact that most individuals (stereotyping a bit here, although clinicians do it too which makes it okay) who fall into the spiral of disordered eating are slight (ah-hem) perfectionists (cough, cough), chucking the plan out the window and trusting the body isn't exactly a natural course of action. Toss in the fact that I once trained my mind to ignore my body's cues, and, well, learning to eat intuitively is a little like driving without a GPS. On a highway with no signs...or gas stations to inquire about directions...on a different continent...
I'll get there. Patience has just never been a virtue of mine.
On the body dysmorphia front, I'm, well.....trying as best I can. Today, I could've sworn my arms had lost all muscle tone in the last three days and I had suddenly become doughy and soft. I also convinced myself I could feel my (nonexistent) stomach jiggling as I walked down the hallway at work. I was later brought bakc down to earth when I realized I was still wearing the same size jeans I've been wearing for the last four months. Big sigh of relief.
I have to be okay letting my body achieve its natural setpoint. This I know and I vow I will let it happen. But it doesn't mean it is a pleasant experience in the meantime.
Looking to bitch a little to someone who gets this kind of insanity, I fired off a text to JN late this afternoon: I'm trying very very hard to believe I do not have fat arms right now. Imagine me with my eyes closed, thinking really hard. I probably look like the 4-year-old version of myself trying to make a birthday wish. I was super cute back then, BTW.
I didn't hear back from her right away, so finished up my day at the office and headed to my second gig at the gym. When I finally retrieved my phone from my bag, she had written back: I know you were cute. Still doing okay with that, ya know ;) Keep paying attention to emotions and expressing them effectively. Strong relationship to distortions here.
Me: Oh. Well, I feel better now that I ripped my arms up at the gym and taught a cycling class.
JN: Oooookaaaaay. Not quite what I had in mind.
Me (even though I know better, but just playing around): Oh. Damn. I thought that's what you would suggest. My bad.
Perhaps I need a WWMDD band for my wrist.
What Would My Dietitian Do?
Signing off. My body wants some orange juice before bed. Must be lacking vitamin C or pulp pieces or something. Who knows, but what the body wants, the body is supposed to get.
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