Let Not Your Heart Be Troubled

 

 

Does my stank day make my face look stank?

I was wrecked yesterday.  

(Let me whine before I get to the good part.)

I woke up recovering from a migraine I had the night before. The last thing I wanted to do was go to class.

Oh! Did I mention I am enrolled in a tax preparation class? Um….yeah.

Why? I have no earthly clue. SO NOT MY THING. IT’S ANTI-MY-THING.

My boss (Dad) wanted me to so I did. It’s 8 hours of week during which I contemplate the complete lack of career and direction in my life. But that’s another topic.

I’ll be the one doodling butterflies and rainbows in the margins of your tax return and signing letters to the IRS with “Peace and Blessings”

At class, we find out the AC is broken. (Still 80 degrees here in South Florida. Small, crowded room. Lots of Bodies. Lots of numbers. Lots of boring content.)

I felt like I was going to smother and stifle. My headache was making a comeback.

After two hours, I HAD to get out of there. Upon my first breath of air I immediately sat down on the curve to collect myself.

I sort of looked like this (RE-ENACTMENT)

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Suddenly I heard a voice say “This ought to help”

and this cute little old man handed me this.

 

He just said “Take care Sweetheart” and continued walking.

 

I believe God uses all sorts of means to reach his children (you and me). Sometimes it’s subtle. Sometimes it’s “in your face” as if God is making sure you won’t miss it.

 

A joyful heart is good medicine, But a broken spirit dries up the bones. Proverbs 17:22

I have ready many passages in the word that speak to my struggles with anorexia but I never saw this proverb before.

I went home and collapsed (see above and below) which made me feel better.  Not a re-enactment, by the way. I had to document the pure relief of hitting the bed in the AC for a bit before heading to work.

Where I was treated to this sushi-throw down courtesy of my big bro.

And felt even better yet.

 

 

YES, I ATE IT ALL. 

Boo –to the- Yeah.

(this was all mine. My brother’s lunch went un-captured)

Biggest lunch I have eaten (ever?) in a long time.

One small step for man, one giant leap for Missy-Kind.

 

• Anyone out there ever been “touched by an angel?”
• Have you eaten anything that is a major accomplishment for you lately?

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Revival Weekend

I am overwhelmed with the comments left on my last post. The impact we can have on one another without ever having met amazes me. Blogging has proved this to me. I have been given support and found so much inspiration by reading the blogs of beautiful, healthy women. Women who have often fought the same battle and won. Women who may still struggle but can share their triumphs and challenges. 

And so many have what I want.

Health. I am CRAVING it. I am hungry for it. I am ready for it.

I realize I have bottomed out– run myself into the ground by not nourishing myself spiritually, emotionally, intellectually or physically.

The first to go was my emotional and spiritual well-being. Leaving me feeling ho-hum, un-groovy and finally un-glued.

Then my mind went monkey-wild….negative and irrational thoughts, going willy-nilly whenever it chose. My ability to focus was non-existent.

Finally, my body gave in. I feel all kinds of wonky. I am exhausted and achy and sick.

I need to take care of myself. Sound body, sound mind.

A sound mind in a sound body is a short but full description of a happy state in this world.

John Locke

 

I left work early yesterday feeling sick and called today, which I have spent mostly sleeping. Sleeping and formulating my plan.

I am on a mission. This weekend will be entirely committed to restoring myself back to … ME again.

RESTORE, REVIVE, REVITALIZE.

I’ll be “SERFING” everyday….making sure to get a balance of Spirituality, Exercise, Rest, and proper Food.

I’ll be doing what I WANT to do, rather than what I HAVE to do. If the floors don’t get mopped, so be it.

In short — I am going to chill the funk out and take it easy. Or try, at least.

Hopefully, by Monday I will feel REFRESHED, RENEWED, and RECHARGED.

Because I need my energy and strength for recovery.

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Slip Sliding Away

So…

I have gone from feeling decidedly ungroovy to entirely unglued.

The tightrope of recovery I’ve been walking has become a slippery slope.

I’ve lost my balance. I’ve slipped. I feel the gravity of my disease pull me down.

I’ve been going to 12 step meetings…but I have not entirely engaged in the process. I know there is a lot of wisdom and valuable truths in the 12-step process. It’s just so … regimented. Let’s just say I can’t see myself collecting Bingo chips, celebrating “birthdays,” and running around quoting the blue book. I prefer to quote the bible. This sounds negative, but my mind is still wide open. I just feel like you can benefit from it without being a card-carrying member.

The first step is admitting that you are powerless over your disease and that your life has become unmanageable. I initially thought, “Of course I am. I completely agree. ” Then, I realized I actually have a big problem accepting that. Powerless?  I am a child of God…this is only a weakness. Can’t I just, with God’s grace, snap out of it? Straighten up and act right?

But I waffle…because I always doubt myself. Is it me who doesn’t want to accept powerlessness or my disease?

Anyway…this is not a fun post to write because I am not in a good state right now. My life feels completely crazy to me, and I feel like I can’t help myself. Like I am….there’s that word again… Powerless.

And if I am, that is an UGLY, SCARY truth that I am going to have to face.

Fact of the matter is, I have not made a lot of progress. If I continue to believe that I can fight this…that I have some power inside me then I need to prove it to myself. Quickly.

Because I just can’t deal with this anymore. Enough is Enough.

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Decidedly Un-Groovy

“Ba da, Ba da, Ba da, Ba da…Feelin’ Groovy?”   

Sorry Simon and Garfunkel, but me? NOT SO MUCH.

I am most definitely anti-groove. Decidedly un-groovy.

What I AM feeling is the absence of groove.  I want my groove back.

I have spent the past week feeling so YUCK. I’ve smiled, yeah. But I’m not feeling like myself.

I am lonely — lonely to the core. This makes me want to isolate because, if I do venture out there, the inevitable return to my apartment, my self,  my lonely existence feels even worse.  I am being crazy-stupid about food — which is both caused by and contributing to my mucked-up moods. I feel closer to being “in disease” right now than “in recovery.”

Being “in disease” has lost it’s ”charm” (not that it ever had much). I mean — it no longer works for me as a crutch or a coping mechanism. I can’t numb out and lose myself in the ED Insanity without KNOWING THE WHOLE TIME how much it SUCKS and how WEAK I am being.  

Add a generous heap of low energy, numbness, lack of sleep and boredom and what do you get?

The opposite of GROOVE.
Hmm….A BUMP. Maybe this is just a “bump in the road.”

The worst part, the scary part, is my lack of motivation or energy to do anything to help myself right now.

I just. Don’t. Care. (For now…)

God? I need a swift kick in the butt.

 So….what to do, what to do?   I HAVE to take action so I can find my way back to the sunny side of life and …..

 

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“Don’t Call it a Comeback….”

If I am to be honest with myself–  and being honest with myself is VITAL to my recovery — I have to face the fact that I am …..

Misbehaving.

Call it what you will: slipping, back-tracking, losing focus…just not RELAPSE.

Relapse would mean a complete 180 back to the darkness.  I am still making a lot of good choices, going to meetings, praying for recovery…etc. I prefer the term misbehavior to describe what I am experiencing.

I can’t ignore these BEHAVIORS of mine that started after losing my appetite a few weeks ago.  I can no longer deny that they SCREAM  “EATING DISORDERED.”

I have been behaving very badly. Not on my best behavior. Bad Girl.

In an effort to deal with this in a manner akin to writing sentences on the chalkboard or wearing the DUNCE cap in class… I have decided to capture these behaviors on my blog – an attempt to virtually simulate  a time – out.

“Go to my room, think about what I did, and not come out until I’m ready to behave.”

I am not going to punish myself…recovery is a process. I have no reason to feel “bad” or “guilty” about a bit of misbehavior — a little funny business. I’m a work in progress! I have to learn from my mistakes.

Without further delay here it is. The ugly truth of what I have been up to.

• Weighing myself. It started innocently enough, because I had not weighed myself in … 9,10 months? I needed gauge where my weight is. Seeing the number was highly alarming, actually.  So…why I have done it since? Am I still alarmed or perversely amused? Hmmm…bad, bad, Missy. This should, fortunately, be easy to resolve. Weighing myself was never the full-blown, consuming obsession I have known it to be in other anorexics.  I  managed to avoid the rabbit-hole to that particular wonderland.  (thank you God).
• Eating far too many egg whites because they are just easy and safe for me right now and telling myself “after all, I just have no appetite.”  I must admit I am NOT eating, because 1/2 cup egg whites does not a lunch make.
• Dousing my food with mustard, hot sauce….almost as if I don’t want to taste it. I am not talking about normal amounts. I’m talking — embarrassing, shameful amounts. Anyone  witnessing this behavior would surely feel sick to their stomach. 
• More than a few trips to the store that entail purchases of 4 different types of mustard and 3 different hot sauces –even when I have some at home. Then proceeding to check-out with little else in my cart besides diet soda, maybe. Straight up freak behavior. 
• Lots of caffeine. And enjoying the way it makes me workout like a maniac. Yes, I enjoy feeling all the endorphins when I have a fantastic swim, but lets face it. This is bad behavior.
• Eating and craving pickles, mustards, hot sauces, olives like crazy! This is 1). An anorexic behavior of looking for food-alternatives/substitutes. 2) A primal yearning for salt — a sign of dehydration. 
• KINDA-sorta feeling the ISOLATING tip. I had been feeling lonely lately — disappointed that all my plans kept falling through. I adopted the mindset of just entertaining myself and hoping social activities would find me rather than search them out. I fear this is not a good sign. I’m not concerned if I spend any time with another person this weekend. Last week I was feeling so alone! 

These behaviors alarm me because they are ghosts from the past….I did all of them (to a greater degree, with reckless abandon, and no self-awareness) when I was “in the trenches.”

You can’t BS*** a BSh***er….ya know? I know this is bad stuff.

So…..deep breath.  “Mommy can I come out now? I promise I’ll do better!”

(0;

Coincidentally (if you catch the pop culture reference in my title)

“Mama Said knock you out.”

 That Means YOU…stupid anorexia.

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Paradise With a Price

So. My last post detailed a wonderful, spirit-renewing vacation in the keys,  Just What The Dr. Ordered (in this case the “Dr” being God.)

It was ocean breezes, sunshine and bliss. Yes! I felt ready to live and enjoy life again!

I left something out. The story did not end there. 
That’s not all God wanted to show me — he took special care to drop some serious logic on me by serving-up some pretty serious awakenings.**

By the last day of my trip I was completely SPENT. EXHAUSTED. WEAK. DIZZY. NOT WELL.

And very scared.

I’m talking — I can barely crawl…CERTAINLY cannot drive home…contemplating a visit to the ER…YUCK.

I figured out, I was severely dehydrated and had to spend the next two days marooned in the condo moving from bed to recliner to bed again. I over-did it.

I realize that I am suffering complete disillusion of proper health. I noticed when I was with my friends that I had a marked lack of vitality compared to them. Less energy and strength.

And then, when I got so sick — I was forced to recognize the fact that I AM NOT WELL, and I AM IN DANGER. 

My mom said “your body is tiny — the sun takes it out of you really fast.”

How much longer before THE LIFE is taken out of me…”really fast?”

I am scared.

SO…I did what I felt God telling me to do. My first step was to start attending the meetings I had been “meaning to go to” and to try to book a nutritionist. I am also fervently praying for God’s help.

And…so far…so far. I know I am doing the right things and for now that is the best I can do.

 It’s been two weeks and I am not sure what will come next but….SOMETHING needs to change.

I am the only one who can make that happen.

And, God? I’m listening for my next orders.

 

**It was as if he waited until I was in a good mood so that I could fully contemplate the message, ya know?

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Recover, Discover, Uncover

I read a fabulous post from Lana about the meaning of recovery – more specifically the word recovery. This is a topic I’ve pondered often – especially because I am a wordophile…(Hold on, let me google. There might actually be a word for that….) logophile. Hmm. I like wordophile better. ***  

For Lana,  Recovering is more about Discovering. I relate to that. I accept my experience with ED is an integrated part of my life – one I can’t erase, forget, or deny. Yeah. Part of recovery for me IS discovering who I am now. Ex-post facto. My experience and struggle changed me (in good ways and bad).  Now that I no longer starve myself into a stupor, I need to discover my place in the world again.  

But for me, Recovering has even more to do with Uncovering.   

 

 

 

 

   

  

I mean...come on. Does this not look like a girl who was all set to enjoy the good life?

 

  

   

You see, anorexia pretty much buried “me.” It pushed “me” into a deep hole within myself and filled it with so much sludge I was stifled. Suffocated. Eventually, silent. If you didn’t see it happen,  you wouldn’t know I was in there.  

Hard to describe what this long process was like — particularly because at my worst, around the time I was hospitalized, I have swiss-cheese brain. I have little recollection. Starvation will do that. I DO remember crawling up stairs, being so weak I could not press the gas pedal or steer, going to the gym only to have the manager call the ambulance 5 minutes later for a very public ”intervention,” and one time I overheard teenage boys laugh and call me ‘skeletor’ in Target…AWESOME.  

I didn’t do anything for fun. I had no idea what ’fun’ even was. I didn’t dance. I didn’t socialize. I didn’t date. I didn’t do yoga. I didn’t make any friends. I lost the ones I had. I spent birthdays alone. Thanksgivings alone. In fact, I was ALWAYS alone. Even though I had invites all the time, my acquaintances and friends  at work, the neighborhood and gym – many who I love dearly – could not penetrate my inner world (guarded by anorexia). I was living in Austin, TX — far away from any family. My relationship of 6 years had failed. He and his friends were estranged. I began to “sanitize” my life– obsessing with keeping my apartment immaculate, my clothing ironed, everything just “so.” Gone were all the kitschy, funky, fun wardrobe items and home decor. No more glitter nail polish. I gave away a lot of Sanrio stuff (for shame!), I remember that! I wanted everything to be ”plain and clean and simple.”    

BUT. There is TOO much about “me” that is not plain, clean, and simple!  

As I am starting to do this work of recovery — clearing out the sludge bit by bit — I am uncovering “me” again. I am able to breathe. Like emerging from underwater. Or ice, more apropos.   

Yeah. For me — recovering is all about uncovering the girl I left behind. I miss her.   

I’ve had an eating disorder for decades and it was a gradual disappearing act…it was at rock bottom when I was all but gone.   

I miss the me when anorexia was something I rode like a bike. Even when I became tethered to the pedals, then bound by chains. Anorexia eventually threw me from the seat, took control of the handlebars and Iwas left, still tethered, dragging behnd on the concrete. When you are that beat down, it’s hard to think about anything else but survival.   

But I’m back in the saddle again and learning to rip the covers off, unpack some of the sludge holding me down and let ”me”  breathe and BE and come alive again and —sigh.   This just feels so good!   

 Perhaps this is the time for me to lose the c0coon and unleash that inner butterfly of mine.   

***Entirely unrelated but worth a peek is this website I just found. Labeorphily – the collection and study of beer bottle labels. Who knew?***  

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Check Me Out!

 

My focus of late is  taking care of myself – a rather foreign concept for me.  I have much to learn.  I started “checking in” with myself throughout the day.  I ask myself how I’m feeling, what I feel like doing, what my body needs, etc…and I try to nurture and provide for myself based on my answers.

This is groundbreaking stuff for me.

When it comes to self-help and spiritual development literature I have “read-heard-lather-rinse-repeat-been-there-and-bought-the-t-shirt.”  Yet, I have never been able to actually implement it.

Take deep Breaths…Drink Green Tea…yadda, yadda. Yeah, I totally agree. Makes sense. But somehow I never get around to it….probably because I am too busy freaking out and thinking ED thoughts. (0:

Now here I am *finger quotes* Checking In with Myself.

And it rocks my socks.

It’s no picnic in paradise, mind you. But it is awesome nonetheless.

Suddenly, I am getting to know myself, explore myself.

It’s like I’m spinning into my cocoon, where I have to figure out who I am and what I’m made of before I’m able to see what I can become.

(I have a deep belief about butterflies–you can read about it here)

It’s very uncomfortable at times. I have to face some ugly thinks. Ugly feelies.

I might check in and find myself incredibly lonely or anxious and impatient or feeling fat. And I don’t know why. But now, I can begin sorting all that out and trying to make myself feel better –  rather than spinning out of control and acting out the crazies.

I feel like I can corral a little of the insanity.

Like “Checking Myself In,” you know what I mean?

Then at times, it is quite pleasant. I realize I feel good. Alive. Hopeful. Like Dancing. Relaxed. interested. I feel ridiculous quite often.  At these times I am very pleased. I might have glossed over this finery before. That’s when:

“Checking In With Myself” feels like

“Checking Myself Out” (0:

 

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It Ain’t Burger King, Baby

You can’t always have it your way.

Last night this phrase randomly popped into my head. I don’t know what I was thinking or doing (besides listening to my incessant inner monologue…Radio KFCD* and maybe washing my hands because I was in the bathroom.)

Suddenly I eye myself in the mirror and think “This ain’t Burger King, baby. You can’t have it your way.” Huh?  Then it hit me. 

It also made me smile.  I always feel these moments are insights from God -  and if this was God speaking,** he sounded like a large black woman who meant bid-ness, ya heard? Like Tracy Morgan doing a Madea impersonation.

(Or maybe God impersonating Tracey Morgan doing Madea.)

But all levity aside….it was a really heavy moment.

In recovery we were asked about our willingness to let go of “MY WAY.” Let go…and Trust God.  Let Go..and Trust the Dietician. Let go of believing all the twisted thoughts, feelings and beliefs our eating disorder tells us are real.

At the time,  I was all “Of course I am! MY WAY is what got me here in the first place!”

Which is still true. BUT…..the mind is a curious monkey.

The concept of “letting go” is difficult to grasp when you don’t really know what you’re still grasping; if you can’t recognize you are still Holding On – let alone what you are Holding On TO.

 ”It Ain’t Burger King, Baby! You Can’t Have It Your Way, Child”

Last night, I realized letting go of  “IF-I-HAD-THINGS-MY-WAY” isn’t anything more than a reality check. I just can’t have it my way. That’s it.

Especially not when Anorexia is still a back-seat driver. She’s not exactly holding the map to the real world.

I won’t stand around trying to compromise the sky out of being blue!

Today I was thinking “…excess flesh on arms due to lack of swimming and more fat consumption…yarkety snarkety…” and was able to:

Stop. Sigh. And say “It Ain’t Burger King, Baby.”

Seriously. They’re arms. With Skin. They’re Fine. Move On.

* Thank You Anne Lamott

** I never hear an audible voice of God by the way, He sounds like my thoughts. When I think of words sometimes, the thoughts have sounds. It’s normal. I think. Like when you remember something your friend said– you can “hear” it? Or think of a celebrity catchphrase- You can’t think “whachooo talkin bout willis” without…you know. “Hearing” it.

 ANYWAY….

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Obedience School. “Sit…Sit…Down….STAY. Good Missy!”

Yuck. I have been feeling terrible! Call the HAZ MAT squad or something, my body and head just feel…toxic or something.

Frustrating. Because I’ve been spending a lot of emotional energy on “taking care of myself”  .  I made some steps in the right direction.

For example, I barely left my apartment on Sunday and even watched a movie in the middle of the day (it is very difficult for me to sit still and just veg, so this has been a goal of mine).

But still, I feel cruddy. Yesterday I called in sick but after a couple of hours I had to peel myself out of bed — even though the boss said stay home — my wonderful work ethic guilt/compulsions wouldn’t let me stay down. I was miserable all day and STILL had to fight myself from going to the gym, which irritated me because that is… INSANE! (No I didn’t go).

Maybe watching a movie or having a snack or taking another nap isn’t exactly gonna cut the mustard when it comes to “taking care of myself.”

Today, I am feeling beleaguered by my own body. It is sore and tired and shaky and, basically, forcing me to GIVE IN and TAKE CARE OF IT.

It is God saying — “you said you wanted to learn to take care of yourself –here’s a little encouragement.” 

He’s hilarious.  Isn’t He?

So. How to deal. My mind is already playing tricks on me telling me “a workout is just what you need, then you need to go to the store and vacuum when you get home….” and I can’t state for certain I won’t listen to it.

But *sigh* if I DO give in that does not mean I am giving up.  Maybe I don’t go home and collapse into bed. I can still do certain things to take care of “me” tonight.

Thank-you, Jesus,  for working your will in my life and giving me the opportunity to learn and grow and improve and be more of the woman you would have me be. I pray that you show me why my body is so unhealthy right now — illuminate those things in my life that I need to work on.

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