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.