Damn Those Jeans

I had to work-ahem GOT to work-my other job today. We are required to wear jeans.
As you know I've been avoiding them at all costs, but today I couldn't.

I pulled my safest pair on (the ones that are always loose, the ones that make me feel happy, the ones I can count on) and they let me down.

They were tight.

Well in my twisted mind they were at least-mind you I had to pull them up walking to my bus.

I couldn't control Ed.

The thoughts flew through my mind like warp speed fast.

"Screw my treatment team, they lied. They told me I wouldn't get fat and now I'm fat. I knew I should be working out more. YEAH RIGHT that it's ok to have a cookie once in a while and not workout everyday. YEAH RIGHT my mind is distorted-this is proof. They used to be baggy now they are not. I am fat. These are like size 13 (I later discovered they were 9s) they don't make many sizes bigger. How am I so fat? How do other girls not have this happen to them..."

Then I get a text from Cha Cha. He says good morning (even though it's the afternoon in Madrid).

I take a breath and a leap of faith and call him.

Before words come out sobs do, uncontrollable sobs. "MyjeansaretightandI'mfatandIcan'ttakeitandIknowitsoundssillybutIcan'thelpitandyou'regoingtothinkI'msogrossandIcan'tgainanymoreweightIcan't...does this make sense?"

And he calms me down. He reminds me that I'm healthy now. Ed doesn't like that word. Then he says in his sexy Spanish voice "Plus, your ass, it's really nice."

I'm one lucky lady.

So I work all day and have a blast. But I don't really eat on my meal plan because once we start working an event we don't really get to stop.

By the end of my 9 hour shift I'm starving but I want to workout but I'm tired.

I go home and eat normally. Then I have some more. And then I justify more. Then I say fuckit I'm going to binge so I can throw up. I eat anything that sounds good and nothing tastes good not even the chocolate bar I threw away last night. But once I'm full enough I throw up.

I'm shaking. Eyes watering. Gasping for breath. Thinking. Welp you suck. You really suck. And at the same time, good job. Get it all out you fat ass.

I clean up and decide to start cleaning my kitchen...then I decide to go to the gym...ignoring the scared thoughts in my head about my heart (is this ok for me to do? well you've done it in the past...if you're going to be disordered today just keep it up).

So I head to the gym and fight so hard to not over-workout.

I stick to my regular routine and realize somethings.

That my recovery isn't over. And who the fuck is in charge right now? Not Kris. Ed is like way too much. Fuck you dude.

I am ok.

And furthermore, I LIKE my ass. I wish my thighs didn't touch but that just means I'm not photoshopped.

All that started this was a pair of jeans that was too tight-that ended up being size 9 and stretching out.

I have been going through a lot lately. My soccer coach and his wife died in a horrible accident. Their children and son in law are in the hospital still. I'm in treatment for an eating disorder. My boy friend has been gone for 1 and a half months. I'm trying to not drink. I'm working two jobs. And facing financial trouble. For shits sake I need to give myself more credit.

Anyway, that's it. I'm home. I'm drinking Powerade. I know tomorrow will be hard but I don't have to do what I did today and today doesn't have to effect tomorrow.

Tomorrow I'm going to Resolution. AND I AM SO FUCKING EXCITED. I have an outfit I made (I love how I come up with these things) and can't wait to hang out with my best friend and dance in the new year (once again).

Thank you guys for reading and letting me be so honest and messaging me at just the right time (aka all the time).

Love,

Kris

Merry Christmas To Me

So Christmas was a success. But it was very hard.

I woke up and helped to prepare breakfast.

Which was a big meal full of foods my Ed normally wouldn't let me eat. My anxiety skyrocketed as I tried to figure out if I was going to be able to measure my meal and exchanges out exactly.

I got through it and fought the voice in me saying "don't you dare put butter on that. Jam? Why do you  need jam? That's extra calories." But I lived.

Then onto present opening which was nice. I love seeing the look on other's faces when they see what I got them.

Even though breakfast was three hours ago I started to get hungry for lunch. So I had that. It was fine. No one in my family ate-Ed was saying things like "why are you eating fatty? no one else is eating? Remember how much you ate at breakfast?" I calmed myself down by knowing that my meal plan is to maintain my weight not explode it.

Then came movie time. Lincoln. It is very long. And the idea of having to sit in the car on the way to the movie then sit and wait for the movie, watch the movie then sit on the way home overwhelmed me. No, I can't do it. I just can't.

My hands start to shake and I am like a two year old in a stroller- GET ME OUT.

So my parents understood and saved me a seat so I could walk around before the movie.

Their support is so vital and necessary in my recovery and I'm so happy that they are starting to understand my disease rather than disreguard it.

The movie was awesome. Go see it. 

We left which means it's dinner time.

I'm incredibly anxious and fidgety from sitting for so long when my dad asks me to help with dinner.

Yes let's hang around all the food when I feel like a cow.

NO THANK YOU.

So I hung out with the veggies - made a salad.

I couldn't calm down though. I hadn't gone on any real walks, I'd eaten more fattening foods then I have in a long time without throwing up and my pants seemed to get tighter by the second. Life was crashing down on me as I knew it...Ed is so dramatic.

I prayed, I called a friend, I listened to music, I tried talking it out but nothing helped.

Until we sat down and started to watch Rudolph with our grand dinner of sammies. 

I cleaned up the dishes immediately after finishing dinner. It made me feel better. And yet the food was calling my name. Everyone was out in the living room munching away and all the desserts and extra food was right there ALL FOR ME! But I white knuckled it and made it through.

To give you an idea of how backwards my mind is...after having such a huge fear of overeating as soon as my mom goes for the goodies after dinner. I immediately want them too.

So I have white chocolate peppermint bark. Just a smidgen. But it was good. 

Then comes the ride home. My dad of course takes the longest way home. Again I had to use all my mind power to calm the fuck down in the car instead of wriggle out of it. 

I get home and have my snack.

Then made my facebook status: 
This is the first Christmas in 10 years that I have not 

1) binged
2) purged
3) drank

Merry Christmas to me!

60 people-including myself liked it. I don't even think that many people wish me a happy birthday. I felt and feel so loved.

10 is a lot of  Christmases to ruin and I sadly, when calling out that double digit number, I wasn't being dramatic. Literally every single Christmas has been ruined by my disease. Self-loathing. Depression. Fear. And while this one was tough. I didn't let my bulimia, anorexia, overeating habits get in the way. 

But ... here I am a day later, feeling like I'm back at square one.

There was left over everything from my coworkers. I had some delicious fudge that made me want the cake in the break room. 

"Please Eat" - GODDAMNIT

So I started eating it and I realized I wasn't exactly eating it rather inhaling it. So I tossed it out. Ed yelling at me. But then I say no I want it I'll have it. So I try it again eating is slowly. But with each bite I like it less and regret it more.

I was so strong yesterday. And now I'm incredibly anxious, even sweating and hot from my decision. I can't sit down for fear of feeling my legs get fatter. My heart is racing-which reminds me of how many people with this die from heart attacks. Is it too late? Have I screwed myself over already?

So this is my attempt to calm down, get out of my head. But it's not really working. That one piece of cake and fudge won't make me fat. I need to step back, breathe. Thank God I go see my nutritionist today.

God bless. Happy New Year!

Oh. Doh.

Sho. I'm starting to get the hang of being proactive in my recovery.
It took me about three weeks to flail my arms around and scream random things in the dark until I calmed down and turned the light on-but BY GOLLY I'VE DONE IT.

Who am I?

Ok anyway, so. Yesterday I had two glasses of wine with a friend. And I was monitoring myself the entire time...why do I like this feeling? Why did it just take the server to ask me "And what will you drink?" to get me to throw everything I've been saying out the window?

And I realized it's the feeling of calm, of happiness, of being ok. When I am buzzing I don't feel all of the confusion that I do when I'm sober. I don't have to listen to the battling thoughts. I don't hear Ed. I just feel calm, happy and like everything is ok.

Now, this may have been obvious to others but it's a good thing I caught on.

The booze was an escape from my recovery. From how fucking hard this is. But what I'm doing now in recovery is learning how to get those happy, calm feelings on my own.

I'm still very black and white with my thinking. It's either restrict or binge. Don't workout or go every day. It's exhausting...but this realization will help me immensly.

Just like anyone else I need moderation in my life. So yes I can have a cookie on a random day. And yes I can skip two days of working out. And yes I will have hard body image days - but that doesn't mean I'm relapsing.

It's all about getting to the middle.

I find it's easiest to do this when I get outside of my head.

Por ejemplo.

Today I saw a girl that I barely knew in college at the gym. When I did see her it was at parties and I remember her and her friends telling me how jealous they were of how skinny I was.

Ed threw a fit.

I am 20 lbs heavier than the girl she used to envy and here I am getting naked in front of her in the locker room. I think anyone would freak a little bit.

It was very hard to not run and hide, or workout for hours on end and skip dinner. The shame of my new body overwhelmed me.

But I was able to counter those thoughts and do a normal workout as well as eat.

Even more surprisingly I called my mom for help. She said "well what did you think of her when you saw her?"

"Uh that she looked pretty and was nicer than I remember." - so nothing really about her weight.

And my mom pointed out that even if the girl did go say something to her friends then screw her. I don't need people like that in my life.

But still even as I type this I can hear her saying "she used to have an eating disorder but now she's fat."

Sigh.

But overall I'm over it.

Good things:

1. Secret Santa was yesterday. I got socks.
2. It didn't pour on me today.
3. I had a killer workout
4. I finally wrote my boyfriend and his parents their Christmas card
5. I wore my new boots today.
6. I'm going to go shower. YES.

Good night God bless

Inspired Hopeful and Dare I Say It...Happy?

I'm in a better place than I was yesterday. 

I didn't have a perfect day, like totally happy not disordered day, but I'm realizing that that is ok. That it would be really weird if I was Suzie Sunshine all the damn time-I'd annoy myself.

But really though accepting where I'm at and who I am right in this moment is bringing me peace. Also, by turning negatives into positives.

So my day started off by watching this little guy run into the light rail and his owner chasing him (he wasn't supposed to go to the airport).

Then went to work...yaddayaddaya. I am having trouble focusing. I always have but it's getting worse. I mentioned this to my psychiatrist today but she doesn't want to test me for ADD until I get this disorder under control-but says I have a valid point.

I had a 2 hour harassment seminar thing-some people are so strange.

I got to Skype with my man at work which was fun, a nice way to break up the day.

Then left work at 3 on the dot in order to make my 4 psychiatrist appointment. I don't usually meet with her but long story short she and I both agree I need to be on Prozac and that I need to stay in the level of care I'm in (even though it's supposed to be over soon).

After that I went on a walk and talked to my brother who fucking kicks ass and I can't wait until he gets a girlfriend because she's got to be one amazing girl to catch my brother's eye. He just got a 4.0 in his hardest quarter, he's looking at grad schools in Colorado, Florida, Oregon (ewe) and is tall, handsome, and the chillest kid I've ever met. Guess which one is the problem child?

So another good thing was that I thought I looked pretty today. I had Thrift Shop stuck in my head as soon as I woke up and he talks about Grandma's and sweaters so that's what I wore. Honestly, I think  my face and hair are pretty-maybe prettier than I ever have-but the rest of me-eh let's not go there but that's progress!

So yes treatment went-ok. I am trying to change my schedule so I go one more day than I already do so I reinforce treatment on more days. Also, that would actually give me a day off since I currently go from 1-8 on my Sundays.

After we ate dinner the girls and I all talk. It was brought up that they (like 4 of the 5 of us) are sick of treatment. They hate ED. They don't have behaviors (meaning bingeing, purging, restricting etc) and that they just don't want to be at the center anymore.

And immediately my head goes, they hate you and your Ed. You are less than them. You are not sick of the center and want to go more. You are the girl that they hate. You are a failure. You are not healthy and they are, why can't you get it?

But then I calmed myself down by being honest and open with the girls. Saying exactly how I felt, but countering it with "comparison is the thief of joy" and that every one's recovery is different.

So yes right  now I am not healthy, I am struggling, but I am taking the steps to recover and help myself rather than continue to fight with no help...you know?

Even though I'm trying to stay positive ....

I will say though that I'm having a very hard time fighting the thoughts of regret for not working out since Saturday. I didn't go on as many walks today because I talked to Raul and I got a ride home from treatment. It's hard to combat the regret and the mean thoughts pushing me to go workout and telling me I'm fat and I'm getting fatter and I don't deserve to eat. Sigh. But I am fighting them!

Ok time to talk to my sexy Spaniard. Good night!

Bulimia Kills

I have a confession that's hard to type out because when I do it becomes more real.

In group we learned about the ways that bulimia can kill you.

In my 11 years of having an eating disorder I have not once, NOT ONCE, looked up the physical impacts of it. I didn't want to know.

Then 4 days ago I was told that there are quite a few ways I can die from this:

1) Electrolyte Imbalance : Electrolyte balance in our bodies ensures our muscles, organs and nerves work properly. Bulimics often suffer from severe electrolyte imbalances caused by extreme vomiting or laxative abuse (luckily I have never tried that).

Electrolyte imbalances put massive stress on your organs and can cause sudden cardiac arrest and death.

Personally I have an irregular heartbeat and am often very swollen after purging because of dehydration.

2) Gastric Rupture

This is when a bulimic eats a massive amount of food while binge eating. The volume of food that's consumed is so great that it bursts the gastro-intestinal tract.

These are incredibly scary because it will most likely kill you unexpectedly.

3) Ketoacidosis

Ketoacidosis is high levels of acid that builds up in your blood (also known as ketones). They occur when your body burns stored fat, rather than food sources, to gain it's energy.

It is caused by starvation, bingeing and purging, extreme dehydration, diabetes, alcoholism and hyperglycemia.

Unfortunately it looks like I have four of those on my list (starvation, binging and purging, dehydration and alcohol abuse at least).

If Ketoacidosis is not treated, it could result in a sudden coma and even death.

4) Cancer

Most bulimics have constant and severe acid reflux caused from their damaged their 'non-return valve' which helps to keep food down.

1 in every 10 people who suffer from terrible acid reflux will develop a condition called from Barrett's Esophagus.

Barrett's Esophagus can lead to cancer of the esophagus-recommended treatment is removal of most of the esophagus. 

Gives me shudders.

5) Suicide

Bulimia and depression are two intertwined illnesses. It's a domino effect, one causes one which in turn causes the other.

I have NEVER thought about taking my life, but I have been severely depressed.

As you know, or are about to find out, my blog is called By Me For You. 

The title is more prevalent in this post than it usually is because I want and hope and pray that another bulimic stumbles upon this and becomes as terrified as I am, or at least realize what they er we are doing to ourselves.

However, being terrified didn't scare the disease out of me. And after finding the above out I still binged and purged on Sunday. In fact, it was a pretty bad one-to the point where I threw up blood and popped capillaries in my face. They all around my eyes and under them. I've never shown anyone these before. It's not as distinct in the picture but if you were looking at my lovely face now, you'd see.

Now, I know this doesn't sound like positive things, which is the route I wanted to start taking my blog, but in a way it is. It's so good that I have finally faced the facts. I'm scared. I am so very scared. I want to live. I want to live a life free of this disease. And I deserve it. 

The above list is positive because it's knowledge and knowledge is power.

Also, since I'm being so very honest I need to tell you that I do not have a hold on alcohol anymore. It's very shameful for me to say because I'd like to act like I'm ok and at least have a handle on one thing in my life but I don't. 

So once again I am trying to stop drinking. Every time I drink (almost) I drink for the wrong reason and excessively. But the main issue is I always binge and purge if I have it in my system. By me saying this publicly I'll hopefully be too embarrassed to drink when I go out (the only time I drink) because one of you  just might see me.

Going with the positive theme though....

Here are some things that went well today:

I got to admire my shellac manicure all day. And so did everyone else because I wouldn't stop showing it off.

I went to my parents' to decorate the tree. I had ridden the bus in and my dad suggested a Starbucks run. He read my mind. I got out my clutch because my dad, well, he never pays for anything. To my delight he bought-however I forgot my wallet there. THANK GOD no one stole it. Good ol' Bothell. Decorating the tree was really fun. We went through so many memories. 

A year ago today my Grandma died. It doesn't feel like a year and I miss her terribly. It was really good to be at home with my family for part of today.

I also got to hang out with my cat, Lucy, who's the size of a dog. This shows you how far I've come in my recovery-I NEVER would have put this disgusting of a picture up of myself to total strangers-but it's too damn funny not to.

Something else that went well is I got to skype with Chacha. I miss him so much. He'll be home in uh 3 weeks. My mom came into the room while I was saying dimple and he thought I was saying nipple. Great. Then, even more embarrassing, my  mom yells (because she doesn't exactly understand how a computer mic works) "YOU SHOULD COME VISIT US, YOU DON'T HAVE TO MARRY KRISTIN IF YOU DO. WE'D JUST LIKE TO MEET YOU." Great mom. Thanks.

I also bought jeans today. GASP. My mind goes to working out immediately ... but these fit. And I have found that the CURVY jeans fit this ass better. Thank you.

I'm going to go write Christmas cards for Chacha and family then pass out.

Thank you for reading and helping me through this. It's very scary to be this honest but it also feels good. 

Source: http://EzineArticles.com/4202979

It's Not What You Look At That Matters

...it's what you see.

I had a really good day.

I woke up with a massive headache at 5:30 AM and my nose was stuffed up and I felt awful.
People have been out sick all week at work so I figured I got something too.
So I for once called in sick to work. Weird, guilty feeling, but I did it! Then passed back out until about 10.

Talked to the man for a bit before he went to bed. Had breakfast etc etc

Then I began to get into the holiday spirit by WRAPPING! I then puff painted each gift for a personalized touch and to save on cards-HA This is the first time I have had to buy my own wrapping paper, I'm so grown up.

Then I sat around and then layed around then watched Netflix while sitting around. MY GOD IT WAS HEAVEN. I haven't had a break, not one day off from planned activity since starting treatment back in September. Today was such a blessing.

I did however have to kind of white knuckle not binging or just staying inside all day. It's very tempting to do when I basically live in my kitchen (I have a studio). But I was able to eat on my meal plan and tell myself "No, we don't do that anymore," every time I wanted to eat excess.

For treatment I have to get my blood tested so I walked 25 minutes to the hospital. On my way I discovered so many places to eat and just how big Seattle U is. I saw quite a few international restaurants too, like the one bellow.

Oh and I ran into a pole while looking at google maps trying to find the place. That was hilarious and humbling and really fucking hurt.

 I got to the hospital place thing only to find that you have to fast for 8 hours before doing blood tests. OH. But at least I went on a walk, ran into a pole (yes that's sarcasm) and got to take cool pictures like this one. This picture reminds me of how much I like how the sky looks just before dark.

On my walk I noticed other little things like a dog waiting anxiously in the window for its owner.

How warm it is for December (which I'm so grateful for).

That every time I see a wreath on a door I can't help but smile.

I also got a surprise call from an old friend in Overeaters Anonymous. I thought she had forgotten about me so I just didn't bother to talk to her-I was wrong.

I went to the gym which was very hard. There were so many girls I kept trying to compare myself to, but I kept my focus on myself and how my body felt rather than what it looked like. But
 I got to watch the news which I love (I don't have  tv at home) so that was nice.

The last thing I did was go to QFC and I bought these babies ...
Which I will put up after I'm done posting this to a Christmas play list courtesy of spotify while I have cinnamon vanilla candles burning. IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY.

 And since I love cleaning I splurged on these. They are ridiculous and totally sexist but I like them so much.

The last thing I'll say about today was that I just got a text from a friend that says she said a prayer for me. It's so nice and helpful to be reminded that I'm loved and worth fighting for.

Good night. God bless. IT'S ALMOST FRIDAY!

Intensive Outpatient : Finding The Good

In the bad.

So, I googled "positive things," "support," "hope," "eating disorder hope when it sucks," today and well all the results sucked. Nothing kicked me into positivooooooo mode....ooo?

And well like with most things in my life if I can't find what I want I try and make it. Ok maybe not most things but that's where I get my inspiration for writing copy as well as reporting--what do I want to know?

So I got this BRILLIANT idea (even though my therapist and old sponsor have told me to do it many a times) (but let's just say I thought of it first) to just write a positive bloggy blog. Ok sick I did not just type that. But seriously, something that just tells you the good stuff, the simple stuff, the things that make you smile, or go "oh yea...life is ok."

I focus on the negative very well--hey there's something I do well! Ok just kidding but anyway so I am going to really really push to look at what's going right, what I'm enjoying, the good shit.

So here we go:

Pictures are always fun right?

I read this card and couldn't stop laughing:

 I went to Snowflake Lane for a little bit and got to see it snow. Then had sushi with a really good friend who is a big part of my support system. And she's hilarious.

I got these from my man today. I LOVE ROSES especially white ones. I really liked getting them at work so I can show them off. BOO-YA. And because I spend more time there than I do anywhere else.

PS DO NOT JUDGE MY TOYS

I had time to craft since I didn't go to the gym...this is a work in progress.

Lastly, I got to hang out with these guys all day (they are my new earrings from Value Village).

At the risk of sounding like a teacher - which isn't necessarily bad - can you find 5 good things that happened today?

Betcha can!

Good night God bless

Intensive Outpatient : Rollercoaster

You like rollercoasters? Just take me for a ride—wait. No.

So I'm all over the fucking place.

Happy. Sad. Losing my mind. Serene. Calm. Fucking pissed off.

In the time it took me to take out my laptop on the bus and turn it on I went through so many emotions.

I sat down. Made eye contact, smiled at the cute black guy across from me—delighted. Then another guy used my laptop for support as he fell over—pissed off. The awkward red head across from me won't stop squinting his eyes, fidgeting, laughing at me then looking at his phone. I'm super tense now. Fack. I was so happy a bit ago. Oh wait. I'm mean, I don't think he's all there.

  

Ok so I'm feeling better. Long story short I've had a terrible week.

My boyfriend is in Madrid, 9 hour time difference so I'm basically dating my phone and computer for a month a week. Wah.

Then I have totally been abusing alcohol.

After my breakdown on Tuesday about my body image I realized I just didn't want to think anymore. Guys I'm tired. I'm really fucking tired of going to treatment 3 times a week. Working two jobs. Trying to workout normally. Have a social life. And find time for me at the same time. I'm sick of having to plan my next meal and think about m exchanges. I'm tired of spending most of my time on the bus commuting. I'm tired of having these black and white thoughts. Of being sad. Of being angry. Of being confused.

But then I realized that's why I'm thinking, working, commuting, doing my meal plan—so all of this will get easier. It will get easier.

So yes I started drinking, excessively. Which means that I binged and purged after each time.

I went to the Seahawks game on Sunday and was so excited to do it sober. It's already an awesome experience—why drink? And yet I was brown bagging it at 11. Sigh. Ok moving on from the past…so basically I was in a bad spot, really losing hope, seeing myself fall back into old patterns but then I had my session with my dietician and nutritionist and my core group yesterday.

There was light. There was hope. I was told that I am ok. That I need to not toy with not drinking but actually do it. that I am still working and I haven't lost it all. That I'm not that girl anymore, I can't erase 3 months of treatment. I'm still on my way, it's just taking a lot longer than I thought.

My therapist pointed out that I just want the end result, I don't want to do the work. True.

Anyway, I woke up today so happy to not be hung over. I was wearing my new boots and coat ($20 from value village thank you) and listening to the Resolution 2013 playlist.

I realized that I have so much going for me, I'm ok, and this is going to be a good day.

I get to work and read emails; I messed up on a couple things. That's it; I'm losing my job and have to go back to treatment because obviously I can't focus.

Cha Cha texts me and calls me Bella, says I have a surprise tomorrow. Oh I'm so lucky, I'm so happy, how could I ever think anything was wrong?

IT'S SO EXHAUSTING BEING ME!

But now that I write that I realize it's not just me. Yes maybe my ups and downs are a little more dramatic because of my disease BUT I think it's human nature. The more I open up honestly to my friends and you guys the more I hear similar fears, patterns, worries and just stuff that we're all going through. It calms me down.

I had a good day overall at work but lately I'm very confused as to what food is for. I was really hungry today when I had scheduled myself to work out.

"Don't eat; you're just going to have to work it off."
"Eat you're hungry."
I ate which then made me go "well you fucked it up—eat everything now."

I ended up eating my normal snack then working out.

Listening to Nero to drown out the thoughts "100 calories, that's like the cheese stick you just ate."

Exercise is supposed to bring me joy, relieve stress, not to lose weight—not anymore anyway.

Anyway, so I'm proud of myself for combatting everything that's going through my head. I realize I had given up for a while. I don't blame me either. This is exhausting but now I'm back on track. I want this so badly, I want freedom.

So I just had dinner group which was great. I love going to the center even though the commute sucks. We have mindfulness (where you acknowledge your thoughts but don't make judgment—super fucking hard) and today we had to close our eyes and feel an object (that we didn't know what it was) for 4 minutes then draw it.

Try it it's so weird.

But that was the first time since …well—ever…that I have focused on one thing that long.

Then we had dinner and it was comforting eating at the center. I ate my pot roast, acorn squash and brussel sprouts like a pro (even though I could see the fat on the plate from the food).

After I processed with my group. I talked about everything I'm saying here. How I'm just very up and down. And how I'm confused as to why I need to eat and what exercise is right now. BUT I am seeing my disorder and distancing myself from it—I forgot to do that.

This is the longest most random post. I just went to Value Village aka Nordstrom for me and I got a Santa advent calendar, owl earrings and a present for a friend.

I was stuck in line behind this woman that bought 3 carts worth of stuff. I was trying to analyze her from the outside (while suppressing the urge to throw my stuff on the ground and walk out) and I couldn't. She looked very well kept, clean but her weird obsession with the most random shit was appalling.

I told the guy that works there that I don't know how he handles people like that. He said he doesn't know either.

As I stood in line a lady was scooting around in her wheel chair was showing me her snow globe she found that had a husband and a wife and how it says her name but who cares if she can't read. She then exclaimed I can't believe I didn't buy anything! And to think I went through my granddaughter's piggy bank for nothing…

I totally judged this mad woman to be a well mad woman but she was fucking sharp and funny.

Gah. I don't know how to end this other than I'm learning things constantly. Like today I learned that I can live healthfully and my life isn't over. And that I spend too much time at Value Village. And that you can't judge someone from the outside because you don't really know what's going on inside. And that I really suck at long distance relationships.

Good night.

Intensive Outpatient : Thank God for Headphones

I'm at work.
I mean no I'm not.
Shit.
This post will only take ten minutes, and I didn't go on my walk today (Ed thinks that's bad. A ping of regret hits me as I type that. SHUT UP you walk everywhere it's ok if you miss one walk).
Ah. Anyway.
My coworkers are talking about the salads they ate for lunch. Then I think about the pasta salad I had (with sausage, peas, dressing and beans) I automatically think...FAT. Why can they have a salad and my meal plan makes me eat all this stuff with so many calories? Fat? And carbs?
On top of that I've been very black and white with my thinking. Which is a habit I have had all my life so basically it's not a habit, it's how I think.
I see every bite as something I have to work off. For some reason I've forgotten that food isn't just calories. It's not a punishment or a reward. It's fuel that my body knows how to use and needs all sorts of different foods and for different reasons.
Yesterday in treatment we learned about carbs and why we need them. I can't really remember why, something about glucose and energy and satiety.
I haven't worked out ONCE this week, in 5 days. That scares the shit out of me but honestly I'm tired. I wanted to hang out with my friends but Ed is nagging at me to get in there and go. However it's been so long that I feel all is lost and I'm just getting even bigger so why start now. ALL HOPE IS LOST.

Seriously that's what's been circling in my head. It's getting harder and harder to stop these thoughts and counter them. But at least I'm aware I'm doing it right? And writing now is calling Ed out.

I'm having a hard time not isolating and going into THE DEEP DARK PLACE. You know the one where you just really can't think of anything good. Or just when you start to think of something good something bad happens and that spark is lost? Well I'm there.

HOWEVER! Your guys' response to my last post was amazing. Oh hey there's that positive stuff. I had quite a few messages, texts and calls from you and I can't thank you enough because that's what I needed. To remind me I'm worth it that there's hope etc. Ok now I feel better. So how about this...

I keep telling Ed that I need food and food isn't bad. And that I need exercise in order to relieve stress NOT to punish myself or lose weight.

Today I can do things that nourish my mind body and soul and in the end that means following my meal plan, working out and hanging out with my friends tonight.

For now all I can do is turn myself over to work and listen to music that reminds me of happier times.

God bless.

Intensive Outpatient : FAT

This fucking sucks. I can't be positive right now. I can't take it. I can't stop thinking about it. I can't make the thoughts go away. I can't feel better.

My entire body is tense. My jaw is permanently clenched.

I hate it. I hate my body. I hate it so much.

I can't look at it.

I can't stop thinking about my weight gain.

I am so ashamed.

I am so uncomfortable.

I have worked SO HARD for the past 11 years to NOT look this way.

And now I've failed.

I have no control over anything.

I have been holding this in for three weeks now and trying SO  FUCKING HARD to make myself feel better and tell myself it's ok.

But it's not ok. I am not supposed to weight this much. My pants are not supposed to be tight. I am not supposed to have this fat on my stomach. I cannot be a size 32. I cannot weigh 150. I can't I just can't. I'm breaking. I want my disorder back. I want to be thin. I don't like the new me. I can't take it. I can't get it out of my head. Every movement. Every piece of clothing I have. Every time I see my relfection. I'm reminded of my failure. I can't do this.

I don't want to eat. I don't want this weight on me. I want to be thin again.

I'm so confused. I know that Ed is bad. I know that it's not the answer but this sucks. It's SO much harder than I thought it would be and I'm so lost. I'm so ashamed and angry.

I can't get the thoughts out of my head. It is impossible for me right now to believe that size doesn't matter. That weight doesn't matter. That I am still attractive. That I am still ok.

Nothing fits anymore, none of my pants except my fattest of the fat pants. Those were my comfort and now they are my norm.

I tried shopping today for new clothes and making it exciting but it was not helpful. I just kept going up in sizes. HOW DID I GAIN SO MUCH WEIGHT? How did I get so big? How come other girls can fit into size 4 and I can't?

I really can't find peace right now. I really just want to be happy and feel better. I don't how to feel better. I can't live in sweats, I can't hide from everything but that's all I want to do. I want to go to bed and never leave.

I hate that I worked so hard in treatment and still am and that this is how I feel. When does it get easier? When do I get to say that "I know what you're going through and it took me time to get there but you'll get there."? WHEN DO I GET THERE?

I don't know what else to do. I'm bawling right now. Disgusting, snot dripping, mascara running, awkward noises crying.It's helping?

I have just tried everything it seems. And it's just hard to be me right now I guess.

And that sounds so petty, there are much worse things in life but right now at this point in my recovery this is where I'm at and this is the worst thing.

My worst fears, of being the size I was in high school, have come true. And I hate it. I hated that girl. I hated how confused she was. How lonely she was. How angry she was and ever since I left fucking Bothell High School I've never wanted to go back to that girl. And now I am that size and I am that confused angry sad girl.

Everything I've worked for is gone. And no matter what I do, whether I'm 120 or 220 it doesn't seem like I'll be happy.

I see how disordered all of this is but right now that's where I'm at.

The only thing that I know isn't disordered is the fact that I'm now fat. The scale shows it and so do my clothes and that's the worst part. There's no minipulation, there's facts that I am  fat and my worst fears have come true.

I'm sorry I've got nothing else but this right now. Tomorrow is another day and God has His plan for me. It's just hard to stay positive right now.

Intensive Outpatient : BITCH I EAT CAKE

Funny story time!

So. I'm on my period. Is that weird I just said that? Well I said it. You read it. It's done.

I have been craving chocolate like no other.

I was at work yesterday and it was snack time. I went to go buy an apple on the floor above mine.

And to my great surprise there was a sign that said FREE CAKE right next to where you could buy the apples.

So I made the economic choice and got myself a free normal-sized piece of cake.

(This is where Ed gets really loud—I used to eat the ENTIRE cake and throw up at work then go workout)

But this time I fought that voice and was like no I want the damn cake and I can have it.

So I got my little plate and fork and walked out into the stairwell to go back to my floor. As I balance the cake in one hand I feel around for my keycard I realize it's not in my pockets. I left it next to the cake upstairs.

So now I'm locked out of all the floors with no phone and no one really works on Saturday so I just had to wait until someone came out. What better way to waste time than eat free cake? I know right?

I stood in front of my floor's door eating the cake slowly and fighting Ed's mean voices. When halfway through a bite someone comes out of the door and almost runs me and my cake over.

Total fat kid moment. Just eating cake in the stairwell by myself haha

I blurt out "HOLDDUHDOOR" and gave the girl a smile like I'm Kristen Wigg in Bridesmaids.

And that's my story.

But the moral is how monumental this was for me. I had cake and ate it too. I didn't throw up or force myself to have more or starve later or workout. I just did what 'normal' people do. And I was able to enjoy making a fool of myself.

What I'm currently dealing with though is body image. Even though I did well that time it makes me anxious thinking about the extra calories I had on top of my meal plan. And tonight I'm going to my friend's party and I know I'll have up to three drinks most likely two. So now I want to do an extra half hour of working out but that's disordered but I guess in this case I can't have my beer and drink it too (am I totally not understanding how that saying goes? Haha).

So I can't bear to look at myself in the mirror. For the past two weeks I haven't looked at anything but my face in the mirror. I'm avoiding my body. It tells me everyday that I've gained weight and that's the truth. I'm having a really hard time dealing with that. The bus is shaking right now so my stomach jiggles. My pants are tight—my 'fat pants' are tight. I'm ashamed and I hate my body. I was never happy with it when I was sick—but some days in a twisted way I was I liked my bones and the way people would gawk at me now I don't know what the truth is. I want to know if I'm ok and ok for me still means being attractive. But the way I've slowly started calming these thoughts down is that what's attractive is different for everyone. So I won't make everyone happy and even if I did then what? I keep wanting to be happy—permanently. Uncomfortable feelings like being angry, sad, depressed, in a funk are things I want to avoid and for many reasons I think that in order to be permanently happy I just have to be pretty.

Our culture associates being happy with being successful and successful is having it all, being attractive and having people like you and the way people like you is if you're attractive. It's burned into our brains that we must strive for better and that what we have now isn't good enough we need more, less, something different.

I'm only just learning this.

I'm also learning that being sad is ok. Being awkard is ok. Being mad is ok. That that is life. This really is a new realization to me. I just related those feelings with being a failure. And I don't want to fail so i must constantly work on my appearance to be happy. I hope this is making sense to you because it's sure helping me.

It's comforting to know that I can feel other things rather than happiness and that it's ok and that it's normal.

So right now, me having terrible body image is ok. It's going to pass. Like I said I'm trying to not think about it because I will trigger myself in fact as I write this I'm flexing different parts of my legs, and clutching my jaw. I'm so tense and uncomfortable in my skin. And it's always there which is hard. God this is so hard. Oh yea God! He has a plan for me and he knows this is fucking tough but he doesn't give me anything I can't handle and everything will be ok.

Plus, when I think about it I never liked how I looked when I was thin and now that I'm whatever I am, fat, I still don't like it. so I might as well be healthier in other aspects and unhappy than sick and unhappy.

And to be honest I have boobs now and it's awesome. So that's got to count for some of the weight right?

J

Ok I'm done.

God bless.

Intensive Outpatient : Let's Think Happy Thoughts

My homework this week for therapy is to journal—but only about positive things.

This makes sense since the only time I want to journal is when things are terribly wrong. That's when I feel compelled to write. 

I had a killer dinner group just now and I want to remember it. So here goes…starting from the top.

Today is my Monday. I have had really bad, BAD body image which has made ED very loud. Every movement I make I can feel the added weight on my body and how its changed. I hate it. Ah positive ok…so yes bad time with that but someone in program suggested that I wear my favorite clothes or try to make my appearance more pleasing to myself. So I did and it helped.

All day I've been white knuckling not overeating. I am hungry. ALL THE FUCKING TIME. I'm hungry now, I ate 40 minutes ago. Gah again, trying to be positive. I didn't binge or eat extra. Each time I do that I'm defining ED.

Today I had a meeting with a higher up at work and we ended up talking about their struggles and things going on in their life. Ironically it was what I needed. It got me outside my head and reminded me that I'm not the only one that is hurting, is confused, is depressed. I heard myself saying things to them like "be nice to yourself," "give yourself some credit," "this will pass," and these are all things I need to turn and say to myself.

And I'm trying.

When I really think about it I'm doing very well. I've not missed a group and am becoming more aware of when I'm anxious and why. NOT doing a disordered behavior is hard but just recognizing that I'm overwhelmed or thinking sideways is good.

I mean I'm working a full time job plus another job and still going to treatment 3xs a week AND having a social life. It's a lot but I just think I should be able to do it no problem.

So dinner group. I went in there and was right on time YAY!

I walked in and saw one of my favorite people from my old group. YAY! She just makes me feel safe, happy and like myself. I don't get inside my head when talking to her.

Then we tried this mindful crap that I can't do—yet—basically it's just more time for me to ponder my to-do list and add more things…

Then comes dinner. I'm sitting at a table with 10 people and my two best friends from program are on the other side. The girl to my left has zoned the fuck out and it's very uncomfortable. So I am assertive and ask to move-BOOYAH.

We plate our meal with the nutritionist watching. I know I plated my corn short and that I'm going to get called out but I try anyway.

She calls me out.

Then I leave the kitchen and go back to the dining room and after a prayer we start a mindful minute. Where we are quiet and pay attention to the fact that we are eating and what we are eating. 

I hear this word "model" and then I hear it again.

The girl at the next table is talking about America's Next Top Model. REALLY?

She says it one more time when I whip around and say in my bitch shut up voice "COULD YOU NOT SAY MODEL AT THE TABLE?"

BOO-YA!

Everyone thanks me.

Then we eat. It's like a girls night or something. I just get to catch up with my friends. And try collard greens—yuck.

Then after we process how the meal went and what was going on for us, as well as what's going on in our little noggins. I talk about how I just can't stop thinking I'm fat. I have convinced myself that it's really happened this time. I can see it. I can feel it. My clothes fit different. I hate it. I hate myself for doing this to my body and there really is no escape from these feelings at the moment. Only distractions. The worst part is  is that I know I'm not lying anymore, before in a twisted way I knew I was too thin but now I'm not. So there's no reprieve.

Anyway, I call ED out in group and the girls come to my rescue. I don't have to be mad about being hungry. I have to stick to my meal plan and in time I'll get my hunger cues back and it won't always be like this, there is hope and a light at the end of the tunnel. And I might be constantly hungry because I'm getting my period soon. YAY.

Then after everyone's talked the leader asks if there's anything else and a girl looks at me and says how well I'm doing. How she's proud of me for consistently being assertive and says that I'm a fighter. That I made her feel welcome in the group and that I'm doing really well. 

Girl say wha?

I couldn't stop beaming—just when I thought I was losing all control and totally couldn't stand myself anymore, this girl (and well the rest of the group) gave me a reason to have hope, to care about myself.

I'm feeling hopeful and lucky.

Goodnight God bless.

WHOA. PS. I just got off the phone with one of my biggest supporters in my recovery. I told her what was going on and she said I have to change my identity. I can no longer be "the skinny girl" I have to be me. I'm not sure who that is but once I get a more sound idea of my values and who I want to be I think it'll get easier. It's just so hard to let go of my appearance being my number one thing. Then we talked about boys J and finally Christmas. I'm just on cloud 9. I guess when you do surround yourself with positivity you're bound to feel positive.

Intensive Outpatient: Thanksgiving

Dear Diary,

Yesterday was Thanksgiving. It. went. well?

So let's recap, from the beginning…

I woke up in my own bed in Seattle because I decided (after a fight where they told me I couldn't go see my friends if I came home the night before—yes I'm 14…apparently) that I needed minimal family time.

So my eyes open to my alarm at 8:30 and of course I check my phone. Facebook. I see that one of my best and oldest friends has had her baby girl.

I started crying. WTF?! I didn't see that coming. But it was a great way to start the day, what a good reminder of what's important not only on Thanksgiving but also in life.

I ate breakfast—gasp! You did what?

For those of you who don't eat breakfast before Thanksgiving that's just stupid. It makes your hunger fucked up, your metabolism confused and it's just not healthy. However "normal" it is, it isn't.

Then I think I watched like oh THREE episodes of Parenthood—I'm hooked.

Then I went to the gym. And I cut my workout short—WTF mate? Who am I? The day where you're supposed to stuff yourself with unnecessary calories and I'm NOT workingout for two hours? (That is exactly what I did last year—I went to the gym on an empty stomach and didn't leave until I hurt).

I raced home got changed and didn't do my hair, makeup or anything—I don't even think I stopped sweating honestly—yum—and went to catch my bus to Bothell.

I brought  my snack with me (because I switched snack with lunch since lunch was turkey dinner) and ate it while listening to two black women chit chat. Soups entertaining.

45 minutes later I'm looking at my dad in the car, correction—begging him in the car to take me to coffee. This was my first mistake, however a grande Americano and awkwardly silent car ride later I'm hyped up on caffine and life and bust into my parent's house to trip over my brother's laptop and onto the floor.

I couldn't shut up. Neither could my mother. What's new? Now that I'm able to see outside of myself and have perspective on my family I see how much we fucking talk. How one fights for attention and the other one bangs their chest louder. We can have 3 separate conversations going at once and still be watching the game. My anxiety skyrocketed.

My brother got out a beer—so I grabbed the wine. I thought it's ok, I want this, not ed but me. But after one I always want another and then after that one I don't know what this foreign word—stopping—means.

So, I'm surrounded by food, buzzing, high off caffeine—great recipe for a dinner? Eh. Not so much.

My appetite was surpressed immensely and I started freaking out that there was too much on my plate. I couldn't get through the meal. However, I called myself out, I wrote down the portions I missed and told my family about it.

But I'm getting a head of myself. I need to give my family more credit. Before we ate I asked them to not talk about calories, working out or diets while at the table. No mention of pounds or looks. Please.

I then told them about my meal plan and to watch me like a hawk.

They obliged and dinner really was pleasant. We got along. And like I said I was kind iof all over the place with happy stuff in my system so I was fine.

We clean up after dinner. They want dessert. I try some. It's ok.

Then we go to a movie.

By this time I think it's a good idea to have a beer. And take another one in my purse. Yes again I am 14.

So I do. My brother and I share it on the way there in the back of my parents' car. Totally bonding.

We get to the theatre and I need another beer. So I go on a mission. I find the nearest bar and buy my brother a beer, me a beer and then a 'water' as I jokingly called the PBR.

Yes, yes I see that this is an issue. But I'm just recapping. So bear with me.

We watch Skyfall and I only pee like 4 times. I drink plenty of water and eat my snack that I brought despite my mom being like wow you're hungry? (NO MOM I'M JUST FAT…is what ed says).

I sober up a bit before we go home but not before I call Cha Cha and try to be flirtatious but I think it was more um…drunk haha

We drive through the city and see the lights—MY FAVORITE THING.

And I get dropped off at home. And I'm overcome with the need to eat. So I figure out the prortions I missed and have a sammy.

Then I wash my face, watch one more episode of Parenthood, and go to sleep.

I wake up this morning filled with regret, embarrassment. Yes, yes I have had multiple people be concerned about me drinking and it's correlation with my binges and my disorder. I see it as a cure for my anxiety and I see that that's a bad habit to start. But that's just where I'm at now.

Let's look at everything else. I didn't fight with my parents. I didn't binge. I didn’t' throw up. I didn't restrict. I didn't workout excessively. I wasn't in my head the entire time. I HAD FUN.

The end.

Intensive Outpatient : What I Did Last Night

After eating breakfast at 1 PM. My stomach is still churning saying MORE!

This confuses me. Technically I should have had a morning snack, breakfast and lunch by now. But should I still be hungry after eating a full meal? French toast with butter. YES BUTTER. Pear. 2% milk (That non fat stuff is for wussies).

I go to leave the house to get this one last disordered food that I can't seem to kick when I have an even bigger compulsion to write.

So here I am.

There's a lot that's going through my head.

I mean starting with last night.

I went out on this date thing that I wasn't really sure what his intentions were. Should I assume if a guy asks you to get a drink, picks you up, pays for everything that it's a date?

Wow. Written out that sounds so silly. Yes, yes it is a date. Chances are he isn't looking for another friend.

So I was actually having fun. He is from Lebanon and there's something about guys that aren't from the states that I really like. He just treats me differently than most American guys have. But then again as I get healthier my standards are different.

After the drink with him I planned to meet up with a girl friend but I can't get a hold of her or find her little self anywhere. I went to the bar she said she was last at and stared awkwardly at everyone there looking for her. Everyone includes my high school / college fling thing and his new wife. That sparked some memories. Just of how I was, the old me, the sick me. It also made me feel good that I just didn't really give a fuck.

After I couldn't find said friend we met up with his friends from Egypt and Australia. Also very charming. Ladies they are single :)

So we're adventuring and I run into a guy I had a fling with. No biggie. Just random that I am running into him  while on a date thing.

Then I get a text from the guy I like, like the one that's really uh caught my eye. He's at the bar across the street, Cha Cha. We'll call him Cha Cha from now on.

Oh. I immediately want to drop everything and see him. Guess that answers my confusion as to what the hell I'm doing out with these guys...

And to clarify, I went on this other date thing with uh Ken like Ken doll (again he said he wanted to be friends but he's been quite forward in texts and things...I am guessing friends isn't something he really wants). I had plans with a different guy today we'll call him Taco but I cancelled.

I realized that all these guys just mean I've been avoiding how I feel for Cha Cha.

I don't want to get hurt. As soon as I feel myself really starting to care for someone I get freaked out and start distracting myself by dating other guys. That way if Cha Cha decides he wants other girls I can make myself feel better by "all the other guys" that want me.

Lord, this sounds so shallow. But I'm just working through what I've been avoiding.

So, I'm at a dance club with Lebanon, Egypt and Aussie when I run into Mustache (my latest x). It's wonderful to see him and not really awkward. He's still a great guy, just not the one for me. But serious WTF is up with all my exes being out?

We hang out for a bit until the club closes and I exit with L E A. And in the parking  lot is Cha Cha. Oh. Balls.

So what do we do? ALL WALK ME HOME TOGETHER! Best idea ever!

I lie. I am such a bad person. And say I have to go to sleep I have church in the morning (well ok that wasn't a lie I did have church, but I wasn't going to go. They have sermons online...comes in handy when you're up at 5 am and church is 4 hours later). So all the guys leave. And I creepily watch from the window as LEA leave and Cha Cha is no where in sight.

I text him DON'T LEAVE! I feel like I'm having my own romantic comedy...but on a much smaller scale. There is no airport I'm running to, just my front door.

He stayed outside. He knew haha And I run to him crash into him kiss him and feel everything I haven't  been wanting to feel at once.

Vulnerable, happy and excited. We go back to my place and I fumble, trip and have long awkward pauses between words as I tell him that I don't want any other guy. I want him. I confessed about how I've been distracting myself from him and not trusting him entirely. He just seems too good to be true. But he is real, he's a really nice guy and he's into me. And that's ok. This happens sometimes. Sometimes nice guys don't finish last.

Also, while writing I realized I want the attention. Mustache actually called me out on that last night. I do. I like the attention, it boosts my confidence. Every time I have guy friends most often than not they just want to date me in the end, and when I stop flirting with them and put them in the friend zone off they go. This has happened so many times I feel that my worth is just from being flirtatious, from being attractive. Not who I am as a person. Make sense?

So that was my night and here I am just gossiping away. I have a slight hang over but I didn't binge and purge. I've been doing that lately. It's very hard to stop once you've started.

Recovery is what I'm in, but it's not a destination. Recovery looks different for everyone and it looks different at each stage. The stage I'm at now is not forcing myself to workout, not weighing myself constantly, not starving myself, not body checking or comparing myself to others. I am telling myself I'm beautiful. I am not afraid of any food anymore.

The stage of recovery that's next is stopping the binge purge cycle as well as kicking this last weird disordered food. But I'm not there yet. And that's ok.

I don't know about you guys but I feel light now. I just realized I'm happy. Really truly happy.

Ok now I'm just rambling. Peace. God bless.

Intensive Out Patient : Sick But Not Tired

When is this going to get easier?

I feel like I've been trying so hard for so long to get healthy and I'm better but I'm not better.

It's so hard. 

I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.

I'm white knuckling not drinking by myself right now. Not going into the kitchen and overeating and throwing up.

I want to not feel. 

My thoughts keep going that direction. Just open a beer. Just have more of this. You can just get rid of it. 

Even though I've had horrible heart burn from doing it last night..."it" meaning drinking and overeating.

I ate an entire thing of hummus with crackers. Cheese and crackers. A jar of peanut butter. A yogurt.

It's so shameful. Like what the hell am I doing? Why do I do this? Why me?

Well I know why. It makes perfect sense that I do what I do but I just wish it didn't happen to me.

I wish that I would be better.

I am not losing hope, or trying to be negative, I just need to talk / type / cry this out.

I didn't know this was in me but I'm full on crying now.

It's all piling up.

I went back to work and am not at the level I used to be. I keep getting bad reviews and tons of emails telling me how to improve.

It'll make me stronger but it's hard to hear still.

It's hard to write at work too. Work was the one thing I had a handle on, the one thing I had confidence in and that feels like it's been taken from me, once again because of this disease.

And I binged and purged on Thursday. I didn't mean to. I didn't plan it like I usually do. It just happened. I hadn't in almost two months-that's a life record for me since I started.

I was restricting at meals without meaning to, I was just scared of going over.

All of this is weighing on me. The shame. The anger. The frustration. I just don't want to deal with it. I want to give up.

So I wrote all of that about three hours ago and wasn't finished, but my phone rang.
It was a good friend who is going through something very similiar. She was calling to say she wanted / needed to meet up.
Minutes later she was at my house and we were crying, laughing, talking together. Sharing our struggle, giving it less power and us more. We talked about our weird habits, our addiction, our frustration and also our successes.

After talking I began to feel normal again, like me again. The warmth came back inside me and my head cleared. Next thing I know she's showing me the huge hole in her sock with her toe sticking out asking if this is weird.

Laughter fills me. And not just my face and my stomach but to my core.

I just realized that I am more alive now than I ever have been.

I'm feeling the hurt and the suffering which I never did before but I'm also feeling joy and hope.

I am so blessed. I just have to keep staying positive. Calling Ed out. Putting my recovery first-my life first.

Good things about today:

1. My boss (this is my second job) told me she missed having me around today (it was the first shift I've worked in 3 months).
2. I got called "the hot girl in the red coat" today at work
3. I was told I look healthy and happy
4. I ate all my meals today and wasn't embarrassed to go eat lunch alone when no one else was taking time to eat lunch
5. The Seahawks won today
6. My mom and I made a dinner date for Friday
7. I journaled instead of eating
8. I told myself I look pretty and meant it
9. I had so much fun at work! Just socializing with strangers and getting out of my comfort zone is such a confidence booster.
10. I got to see my dad

Good night. God bless.

Intensive Out Patient : Smell The Break Room Coffee

So now that I'm back at work (and no, of course I'm not blogging at work) I AM ALWAYS HUNGRY.

This constant hunger reminds me of before treatment. When I would get mad at myself for being hungry because I just ate.

So I had this idea-what if I am always hungry because I am almost always anxious?

If I check in with what's going on emotionally for me I realize all I've been doing is worrying. When will I finish my event, is this any good, did I just make an ass out of myself?

So, I need to apply what I was learning at the center here. Which may seem obvious to some of you but I'm a slow learner sometimes.

So. How many times can I say so? Lord...So, anyway I really need to stay present at work. Not mind read and future trip while I'm writing. Instead of seeing my job as something that creates stress and gives me the opportunity to fail I should flip that around and see it as a blessing, it's a time for me.

I get to be creative, challenge myself and therefore ENJOY myself. I'm still so used to having a clock tick in my ear, hurry up and finish! DO MORE! I'm always rushed and don't stop to talk with my co workers, to take a lunch, to research a product before writing or shit son, just breathe.

Now that I've realized what is happening I'm better able to deal with it.

I feel like I'm not the only one who breezes through a work day not really taking time to enjoy it or to chill.

It's very easy to get caught up in deadlines and things to do, but when you take the time to pause and count your blessings I bet you'll enjoy your day a lot more.

It's almost Friday!

God bless.

Intensive Out Patient : I AM OK?

I'm really anxious and i don't know why.
i'm shaking and I don't know why.
I am sick to my stomach and I don't know why.

There is so much that goes on in my day now I can't process it all.

I forget to check in with myself instead of going through the motions.

Being self-aware is weird.

I used to just numb out by eating at work or refusing to eat at work. Or going on walks. Or well just working. Now I don't do that. Now I'm semi-aware of what's going on in my head.

THERE'S JUST SO MUCH.

I have to keep reminding myself I AM OK.

This morning I woke up in a downer mood for whatever reason and I had to think about it and go - "oh I'm ok, nothing is wrong." I just had another weird dream that I don't remember.

Then at work I get anxious about a sale I'm writing but calm down by being mindful-just sticking to what I'm doing and that's all I have to do right now.

Then I get overwhelmed with how fucking happy I am to be back. I watch my coworkers in a new way (WELL THAT'S CREEPY) but I mean I used to read their minds. I used to tell myself what they were thinking about me, even though each one was not even looking at me. I would convince myself that they hated me and here's why. I was so twisted.

Now it's like a weight has been lifted, my eyes are open and I can just breathe. IT IS SO WEIRD. It is so weird to not be over-analyzing. To not be so focused on what I look like, I can eat next, what I just ate or when I can leave to work out.

But it's hard to do this. I catch my mind going into old patterns. This healthy thing is uncomfortable. But I also am reminded daily about how uncomfortable I was in my disease. I see it everywhere at home and in the office and I am so damn thankful I am not that girl anymore. But again it is just weird to be put back into my life but it's not my life or well-that wasn't really my life to begin with. You know?

I guess what I'm getting at is that there's so much happening and I'm HAPPY and I'm scared to admit that I am happy.

I come home and am so used to being pushed to my limits of time and the amount of things I can accomplish in a day it feels weird to not have plans, to be able to read for an hour if I want. I don't know if I'm explaining this right, but...

Nothing is really wrong. And I guess I'm not used to that.

Goodnight and God bless :)

Oh PS I'm making dinner. I NEVER DO THIS. I always just had salad and pre-cut chicken or crab. But I have rice on the stove (which is way too watery) and chicken sausage and green beans. And yes I put butter in my rice. BOOYA!