WTF Wednesday: I Found the Coon Butter

It had been a while and I had one thing on my mind:

Sunflower Seed Butter.

Yes, that was my mission as I entered my happy place Whole Foods. I intended to make my own, but I remain undecided as to whether that is actually cheaper in the end.
I headed over to pick up my favorite –MaraNatha Sunflower Seed Butter.

But to my displeasure they were out of stock.
Then, to what my wondering eyes should appear but this little beauty. On sale, no less. $4.99.

I got super excited because I had found the coon!

Say whaaaa?

A certain friendly awesome* of mine had sent me this photo. There is an inexorable mind link for some of my friends between me and PBJ. I love it.

(*Two adjectives can make one noun in my Missyese.)

She asked if I had tried that nut butter brand before but I’d never seen it – but I got a kick out of that raccoon on the label. So when I saw it in the store I thought “Stacy!” 

Stacy is inexorably linked in my mind with supreme awesomeness. So the Sunflower Butter was purchased.

Well. 
In the middle of a serious spoonage sesh on the couch I remembered the reason I only buy Maranatha Brand.

It is the only one with no sugar. (If you missed it, I don’t like sugar.)

I flipped the jar over and yup.

Not just sugar, but evaporated Cane juice. Evaporated cane juice as the second ingredient!

WTF.
Whatever. Totally FINE.

This week I really mean it. For real ‘do.

I’m okay with it and glad it happened. I will be consuming the rest of this butter and I don’t give a coon’s azz. Yes, I am still leery of it but I am swallowing all those thoughts because it’s JUST FOOD.

There was a time when there is no way this would have made it in my cart because I obsessed over food labels (ingredients) determined to stick to my meal plan. I never forgot to check.
There was a time when I would have pawned the open container off on my family – never to be consumed by me again.

But not now.
I am glad that I have a little wiggle room, it makes me feel sane.

PLUS I now know the story behind the coon.

Sorry to bore you, this was kind-of sort of a big deal that turned into the most inconsequential thing ever.
In summary: I bought sunflower seed butter and ate it.

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The Importance of Being Ernie (or Bert)

If you didn’t grow up watching Sesame Street or if it’s been a while and your memory is foggy this probably won’t make a lot of sense.

But say you’re like me – a devoted fan of the show which, I believe, was one of the most groundbreaking things to EVER happen on television. Sesame Street…where do I begin?…let’s just say Sesame Street had a profound impact on society, education, children’s programming, family entertainment, celebrity PR, public broadcasting….etc.

Let’s not get too analytical here because – well, then my brains would start to show and I don’t do that on my blog. LOL. Really I just want to write about a think I thunk yesterday about Bert and Ernie (and, no, I’m not going there).

Bert and Ernie are dynamically opposing characters. The dudes couldn’t be more different. Burt is rational, orderly and structured. He likes mundane things like news radio, bottle-cap collecting, watching pigeons, lentil soup and making the bed. He is quick to get angry and frustrated. Especially around Ernie.

Ernie is arguably the more winsome of the two . He’s frivolous and playful. He likes to joke around and play games. He likes his rubber duck, jelly beans and eating cookies in bed. He’s simple-minded and often learns a lot from Burt, who does exhibit patience with Ernie most of the time. Ernie, in exchange, doesn’t mind Bert’s sometimes irritable and grumpy demeanor.

Burt and Ernie are roommates and the best of friends (and again -not going there). They get along. They accept each other. They appreciate each other. They make peanut butter sandwiches together. They argue. They laugh. They love each other!

They see ALL the bits and pieces of each other. They see their strengths, their weaknesses, their beautifuls and their uglys. Everything. They know the person for who they are.

A person is really more than just a SUM of their parts. It’s something beyond that. Their parts fit together and melt, compliment and detract in far more complicated way than simple math.

The negatives do not diminish the positives.

You know what I mean?
I think we should all be like Bert and Ernie.

I guess that’s what I’m saying. LOL. Brilliant.

I’d like to share something about myself.

When I talk about this, I know it sounds ridiculous or comes across as flighty, naive, or fake.  It’s not. No joke. I have analyzed the sparkle out of this and it’s not stemming from some therapy mumbo jumbo childhood place either. And no, I’m not extrasupernice! or a push-over. This is just me.

I have never hated or really even disliked anyone in my life.

I have this obstinate inability to dislike anyone. What I’m saying is – I pretty much love everybody.  Yup.

When I feel like I might dislike someone (which has happened three times in my my life, two were professional colleagues of mine), I get extremely uncomfortable because it feels foreign. It’s also confusing because I simultaneously find my heart accepting them just as they are- the good and the bad. It’s like I understand and the “good” counts for a lot.

Then I realize my “dislike” was really just me getting angry or something. The feeling fades quickly. I don’t do anything or have to get over it it just…goes away. That’s another thing.

I’m incapable of staying angry. I also cannot – cannot even comprehend how to begin to- hold a grudge. I have no idea what that even feels like.

There. That was a little piece of my soul I shared with you.

Anyways – Back to Bert and Ernie.

I think this little number says it best:

SUNG:
Ernie: But though I don’t always like everything
Bert: That I like
Both: Still I like you
Bert: Though I’m not too crazy about your rubber duckie
Ernie: Though I don’t love pigeons
Both: Still we’re awfully lucky
‘Cause I like you

• Sesame Street fan? What’s one thing Sesame Street taught you?

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OMMM….

Deep Breath. Inhale….and….exhale. Ahhhhh… Ommmmm…..shanti…शान्ति Get ready for another round of OMMM- On My Mind Monday. Where the breathing is deep, but the thoughts? Not so much.

Here are some random thinks I’ve thunk this past week. In no particular order. For no particular reason. Because.

Boy Scouts Need to Step it Up a Notch

Every year the Girl Scouts come correct with a limited-time-only panacea for the masses: those dearly beloved cookies. We fawn, we drool, we flock, and we spend. We spend a lot. Girl Scouts also team up with ice cream and candy bar companies, securing a portion of America’s retail dollar too.  $Cha-ching$

Let’s be real. The “for a good cause” factor is probably responsible for …oh… 15% of all proceeds. Because really? We’re just hooked.

The Girl Scouts know profitability. They also know what sells.

Then there’s the Boy Scouts. What do they sell? Microwave freakin’ popcorn.  Usually outside a grocery store selling the same thing. Big incentive. 

They don’t even sell the pre-popped or flavored varieties anymore. No. Just popcorn. That’s it. Ends there. Seriously?

There is no “immediate gratification” or “impulse temptation” factor at all. You can’t rip into a box of popcorn kernals before you even get to your car…much less devour 1/2 the box before your home, thus necessitating a return trip tomorrow to buy more.

Dear Mr. (or Mrs.) Person-in-Charge-of-All-the-Boy-Scout-Things:

Your popcorn needs more sex appeal. 

Invest in a few tons of sugar, salt, and fat. Go to town in a test kitchen.  It doesn’t matter what comes next. All the basics are there. Layer sugar, salt and fat on anything and it’ll sell.

I personally recommend marketing a popcorn/trail mix “bar” of some sort. Disguise the fatty sugarbomb with words like “wholesome” and “nutritious” or “energy".

Make them really small and “only 200” calories. Or make the ratio of serving size to servings per bar inversely proportional. Set up shop outside of places like Curves or something. BE INVENTIVE!!

I can’t believe I’m actually promoting this kind of thing, but heck – it’s for a good cause. lol.

While I’m on the topic of delicious addictive food….

Paula Deen is Selling Diabetes.

I know Paula’s diabetes is old news….the jokes have been made, critics have weighed in, etc. Yet, only recently did it dawn on me that she is, effectually, selling Diabetes. 

I think of it like this: She profits from her show/cookbooks which are rife with uber rich foods. It’s fine in moderation, but we don’t live in a moderate society. We live in an obese society. Lots of Diabetes going on.

The way I see it, now that Paula’s Diabetes is out of the closet, her show is basically pitching “let me show you all the food to eat in abundance if you want to get diabetes.” 
$Cha-ching$

And then….Paula turns around and sells you what you’re gonna need once you actually have Diabetes. $Cha-ching$

“Just put a band-aid on it, y’all.”

“Life with Diabetes can be DELICIOUS and I want to tell y’all about it.
With Love.”

I don’t harbor any resentment against Paula. I don’t think this is some manufactured plot – but the whole thing is just wrong. She could be promoting diabetes prevention. She could grab another spot on Food Network cooking her trademark comfort food in a healthier, Diabetes-friendly way.    

But, Whatever. Totally Fine.

Well then. I’ve gone on FAR to long and really? There’s only so much a girl with an eating disorder can blather on about unhealthy and healthy food and obesity and whatnot before it becoming entirely laughable.
I’ll leave it at 50% laughable.

• What’s been on your mind lately?

  Also, you should read this book. (If you want). 

http://www.theendofovereatingbook.com/

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Nightmare Mom

I watched the show “My Mom is Obsessed” last Friday evening.

I should have known better. “Toddlers and Tiaras” once gave me nightmares. Amusing nightmares, yes, but nightmares nonetheless.

But this mom? She’s got them all beat.

*shudder*

Watch this if you can, but here’s the gist:

A 14-year-old girl’s mother gained weight after pregnancy and is fixated on controlling her daughter’s weight.  She’s terrified her daughter will also gain weight later in life and end up like her – miserable.  She makes her daughter step on the scale each morning, at one point ridiculing her over two pounds gained. She’s 14.

The mom finds a couple candy wrappers and a box of Gobstoppers in the girl’s room and FLIPS out. No. That doesn’t capture it. She went demonic. It was crazy. She ambushes her daughter, embarrasses her in front of her friend and grounds her. Yup.

She makes her daughter text her every.single.day before lunch to “go over the options” and constantly s-text-alks her about food. The bucket of crazy really tips when the daughter is “caught” at a pizza joint with friends. She wasn’t with boys or breaking curfew or anything….nope. It was the pizza that got her in trouble.

If what I wrote sounds horrid, believe you me: it’s worse. You have to see the whole episode. This mother is grappling with some deep-seated issues.

Here’s another clip that explains more:

At least they’re getting help. I do not want to say label this woman as “bad mother” or “bad person.” She is clearly under the grip of an obsession and those issues are effecting not only her, but her life and family. It’s sad, really. I believe she can change, though.

 

It’s remarkable to me that the daughter, though incredibly pained by all this, shows no evident absorption of her mother’s obsession. Home-girl seemed okay, strong.  (For now?) She wasn’t buying into it.

I wanted to reach into the TV and fist bump her for being awesome.

How parents raise their children in regards to food/eating is an issue I’m passionate about. I feel it needs to be addressed more and more but with extreme care. I believe a majority of women in the US have or have had food/weight “issues” and body image woes. Couple that with a rising childhood obesity rate which requires intervention. I smell disaster.

For my own experience, I know my Mom had/has no contributing part in how my eating disorder played out. I appreciate the way I was raised in regards to food. Because I wasn’t. I was just …raised. I don’t really recall thinking about food – it was less than a non-issue.

You might say my mom was relaxed about it.

Relaxed, but smart.

She was adamant we never be made to finish our plates. After spending many nights falling asleep at the table over her untouched liver, that is one thing she would just.not.have. We ate dinner as a family, she cooked  “traditional” meals (no liver, thank you Lord), we had some junk food in the house (nowhere near the amounts I see in some grocery carts), but we never ate the “sugary cereals” like Pops or Cinnamon Toast Crunch.  I didn’t want them anyway. I wasn’t used to them. I liked my Crispy Wheat & Raisins.

So my mom was cool. Me? Not so much.

I know she will forever continue to try and blame herself for my ED and figure out what she did wrong. She knows better, but I think it is ingrained in every mother’s psyche to constantly wonder “what did I do wrong?”

BY THE WAY MOM, STOP IT! (0;

• Do you think your mom impacted your relationship with food? Would you change anything? Did you see this show?

 

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Humbled on the Mat

I went to yoga class this morning for the first time in many years. My first time practicing at a gym, which I’ll always think is somewhat of an anathema.

I’m a bit of a yoga snob. But, don’t judge okay?

  

You see, I have a long personal relationship with yoga – back before it went mainstream. You didn’t take yoga at a gym and most of my friends had no clue what it was. My Ashtanga teacher studied with Pattabhi Jois. Class was held in a room smelling of incense, old office supplies and people who wore crystal deodorant. Everyone was there to do yoga. No one had a cell phone, much less forgot to turn theirs off.

But the practice of asana is only one of eight limbs of yoga. Yoga is a state of being and doing which can be practiced during every waking moment. Often times what happens during asana, the lessons and experiences, teach us a mindset that carries-over into the rest of our lives.
So I went.

Yoga is more than a class or a stretch. I have to admit, I did my own thing at my own pace and used my own alignments and binds. But mostly? I stayed still or adopted child pose.  Because my body is so weak. I was prepared to do this, I’m not in a position for rigorous exercise. But still.

It was difficult. Humbling.

 

The mat can be a very humbling place.

I lost my yoga as my eating disorder progressed in about 2002. My body weakened—I could no longer do it. Then my mind went and then…. I went.
Through the years of “betters” and “oks,” I avoided the mat (despite wanting to practice) for several reasons.

1. My body is still weak and less flexible than it was. I’m more a beginner now than I ever was. It’s beyond starting over, it’s starting fresh. It makes me that much more aware of the damage I’ve caused my health.

2. As I slowly lean into practicing again, I re-connect with my passion and my memories, becoming more aware of how much of myself I abandoned.

3. I get winded, dizzy. There are certain poses I simply can.not.do. I am too weak. Too bony. Rolling on my spine and most supine poses are impossible right now. Before I left for class today? I threw on this weird yoga-jacket- thingy in case I got cold because I caught glimpse of my back in the mirror. I was embarrassed. I rarely notice my body like that.

 
See? Humbling.

All these things are good to reckon with, things I MUST reckon with. But it’s sad. Hard. Humbling.
But ….ahhhh….yoga.

It’s so SO good for my soul and I have a feeling if I just keep pressing on — it may be crucial to any chance I have at life. It really does make me happy. 

• What are you humbled by? Do you avoid it or relish the experience? 

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evocative, provocative quote:

evocative provocative quote:

Let your head be more than a funnel to your stomach.
~German Proverb.

does this elicit any emotions, thoughts, memories, current struggles, or “aha” moments for you?

for me this quote resonates like, whoa– so often the few inches between my ears are entirely dedicated and consumed by food…especially when i am not nourishing myself properly. i feel that my life will always be somewhat food-centric; i can accept this to a certain degree. but sometimes it gets out of hand and the experience is very shameful.

except my mind is more like this: 

 
seriously!

the quote concisely sums up what it is like to have food&co be the constant muzak of your mind, and how wasteful and wrong that is.

another reason i emote to this quote (rhyme!) is in regards to mindless eating. i think we all know about that, huh? even though i am no longer prone to the complete numb-blank-time warp horror of a binge, for example, there are CERTAINLY times i look down and i’m like…"wait..what?"

this is me, oh….nine times out of ten nine when i eat popcorn.

 for the past year or so i have been studying the physiological benefits of eating with awareness using several techniques– such as macrobiotic-like chewing, BREATHING (<– that’s huge for me), and staying present on my physical sensations during a meal (which is scary at first sometimes still). 

i notice my digestion improves, as does my entire well-being (emotional, mental, physical…etc).  my body is more ready to receive and incorporate the nourishment from the food when i practice eating in an "enlightened" manner. (no, i haven’t been able to turn off the TV. i’m not superwoman..)

but maybe if i master the art of mindful eating i’ll fart stars?

the more i eat with a mindful, relaxed and ready spirit, the more i get really uncomfortable after realizing i’ve eaten without awareness. it really sucks.

where is her bowl? what is going on?

i aim for at least one meal a day when i choose to consciously practice healthy eating (or try to). i don’t want to obsess, and also it’s hard! but just the occasional choice to practice has had a residual effect on the rest of my meals.

i hope to write more about my forays into this practice – but please note if you are a recovered or current eating-disordered individual and excruciating meal rituals and prolonging meal times (taking two hours to eat and stuff)…this isn’t something to worry about right now.

(i am under the weather big time and just re-posting something i wrote in one of the Facebook Groups i belong to…hence the all-lowercase font which i have succumbed to in emails, comments and whatnot. i’m trying not to let it invade my blog, though. we’ll see.)

PS- true factoid—i really don’t use the word fart, i call it fluffing. i was raised that way.

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Moment of Zen: You Can Find Joy in the Scale

Twas the night before Christmas and what did I see?

The first commercial signaling the New Year to be.

I let out a giggle and then I just sighed.

Lets tighten our belts and enjoy the ride!

On Diets, On Treadmills, On Low-Carb, and Cheat Days

On Fat-Free, on South Beach, On Alli and the latest craze!

Although I didn’t actually write that until just now. I actually have no idea where that came from. It just came out.

On Christmas Eve I just giggled and sighed and thought “It’s On.”

I saw the first of what I knew would be an onslaught of diet and fitness marketing that occurs every year.

I was amused because I imagined a lot of people would take issue with a theme of the commercial. I haven’t heard a peep though.

I FINALLY found the spot online to share with you:

You can find joy in the scale.

My thoughts?

I’m not getting my ED panties all up in a wedge over this. Not at all.

(I actually have this magnet on my fridge)

 

The fact is people CAN gain joy, freedom, and confidence as part of their weight loss journey. The fact is we DO have an obesity epidemic in this country and a national norm of compulsive eating.

 

Weight loss does not guarantee perfect health or happiness, it is not an answer to depression or insecurity. This commercial doesn’t promise that.

And some people? Well, we get sick and develop eating disorders. Maybe we start to believe the ONLY way to get joy is from the scale. Maybe it started as a diet. Maybe not.

But we don’t “catch” eating disorders from Special K commercials.

I give props to Special K for marketing weight loss using an appeal OTHER than aesthetics, swimsuits and skinny jeans.

Special K gets WAY under my skin with their commercials, so I’m actually surprised I’m Ok with this one. I mean…their models never EVER need to lose much weight. Or any.

I wish they had obese people jumping up and down in the commercial above, but obese people (apparently) only belong on reality TV. I guess. Whatever. It’s Fine.

It’s a normal-people world and we’re just living in it.

Does it send a WRONG message? Depends how you look at it.

Does it send a POSITIVE message? I think so, no matter how you look at it.

 

That is all.

Please weigh in. <—Pun Intended and Enjoyed Thoroughly.

PS-

I have not seen this particular commercial again but I have seen other spots from the campaign. These other spots kind of elaborate more on the theme of the campaign and I think they do much more in promoting a culture that embraces weight loss for it’s emotional and health benefits rather than the perfect number and size. They use a women on the street approach with more dialogue that shows our anxiety over a number and then surprises us.

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WTF Wednesday – Overshare Edition

Life hands us stuff: lemons, blessings, unfortunately located piles of dog poo, rainbows….etc. Not all of it is tasteful, but our job is to make do.

And sometimes that means thinking WTF and moving on.

WTF as in: WHATEVER. TOTALLY FINE.

Life’s been handing me WAY too much reality than I care for this week. I need to unload.

This WTF Wednesday is a bit of an overshare.

I prefer my reality with a side of glitter and more cowbell, but all I’ve got is bare-skinned truth served up raw. Reader beware.

Before I begin, here’s a rainbow. See it?  I feel more balanced already.

My flu-like symptoms and I went to the Doctor yesterday. Guess what guys? I have anorexia. Who’d have thought?

In other words, he took one look at me and told me my body was malnourished despite what my bloodwork might indicate.

I have the BEST Dr. in the world. He knows my history, my diagnosis…he knows that I know. He knows my entire family actually. He grasps my hands in his, gives the best hugs and tells me he loves me (all of which make me cry like a baby). He told me it hurt him to watch me destroy my life when I was capable of such happiness.

The thing is, I thought I had the flu. But no. I do this to myself, evidently.

“You’ll be lucky if you reach the age of forty,”  he said.

 “Your brother died of a heart attack on the soccer field. You will die alone in your bed in the middle of the night.”

 

There is absolutely nothing Totally Fine about that.

I left with a prescription for Prilosec and Glucerna. I told him the Glucerna wasn’t going to happen but I’d think about it and try to make my own version.

My unwillingness really bothered me. I kept asking myself “Why Not?” and I didn’t like the sound of my answers.

So I got these:

 

Question is will I drink them? If not – WHY not?

It’s just a 160 calorie, dairy-free protein shake. That’s it!

Someone needs some WTF lessons.

        

Just drink the dang drink. Whatever. It’s totally fine.

Continuing on in my atypical Tuesday…..

I went back to a support group that I have not attended in many months. It was wonderful. It was another 1.5 hours of being acutely aware that I have a major problem.

Let me be clear: I know I have a problem and I think about it everyday. I just mix it with a hefty dose of sparkles and rainbows. I have a pre-programmed auto-escape.

Oh and Friday?

Friday will mark two years gone by since my brother died.

Two more years of taking up space he’d be filling with so much more.

 

There is absolutely nothing Totally Fine about that.

I’ve been anticipating this date for months. I knew this week would be rough but….wow.

Now, if you don’t mind I’m gonna finish up work, go to church and then come home and crawl into this:

Yup. I’m 33 and I built a fort. Whatever. Totally Fine.

Don’t be jealous. I’d let you in.

   

 

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Over ‘Him’ but Not Over ‘It’

I wasn’t always lost. I once knew exactly where I was headed in life, or at least who I was headed there with.

We fell in love in 1999, my Junior year of college, and moved in together that Summer. We liked to travel and I spent many many hours beside him in his truck. Just the two of us (and our dog Zoe).

We were creating memories – “Our Life Together: The Early Years.”

I couldn’t wait to tell the kids about it.

I assumed we’d be together forever and the feelings were mutual.

I pretty much considered myself part of his family. His parents even came to my graduation.

After graduating, we moved to Austin, TX – where we had dreamed of living for years. We were ready to start building our futures.

Life was good. Did I have issues? Oh, yes. I did. So did he.

But I was healthier and happier.

Love makes everything better.

Until it can’t anymore.

I wrote here about a dramatic weight loss coinciding with a relationship blow-out. That was 2004 – the last year I spoke to the boyfriend formerly known as “The One.”  It was mutual. Our relationship had crumbled; our separation was necessary. Necessary but painful.

What hurt most was when he completely cut-me off. I didn’t stalk him or anything, but I’m the type who likes to be on friendly terms (After a certain amount of time has passed). Not everyone can be friends with their ex. I understand that. He made it clear. 

But complete severance from someone who I shared so much with for 6 years? It hurt. The dead silence.  It wounded me.  Devastated me.

He was my family. My best friend.

 

I felt I’d been erased.

Like a mistake.

My Aunt Trudy keeps saying “It was that guy. I think he took your heart and tore it up and you’ve never been the same.”

I shrug it off. I’m at peace with things. He didn’t hurt me. Our relationship just had to end. I’m over him and wish him all the best goodies in life. My present day issues have nothing to do with an old boyfriend.

Yet, a certain song can bring me to tears every.single.time.

That’s not normal. I don’t think of him when I hear this song – but I feel the pain that took root in my heart back then.  The rejection, the loss, the loneliness, the self-doubt.

I’ve reached an epiphany.

My Aunt is right. I’m broken hearted. Still.

I’m over HIM but I’m not over IT.

The rejection I felt (and feel) has infected me. It’s not about him. It’s not about our relationship. It’s about the wound. I never took care of it, so it never healed.

It’s post traumatic relationship syndrome.*

I’m happy I’ve realized this, because once we know something is broken we can set about finding the scattered remains and piecing it together again.  

No, my issues today have nothing to do with an ex-boyfriend but EVERYTHING to do with a wounded heart. <—God-shaped hole 

*Not sure if that is a real-deal condition but it should be, Amen?

 

• Have you had an epiphany like this? Ever realize that you’ve been carrying hurt or anger from something that happened in your past?

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When You Think A Co-Worker Needs Help

Hello Blog Readers! <— Wow. I never start with a direct salutation. I shy away from assuming people are reading and I don’t want to be left “hanging.”

But I’d like your help. Yes, you!

I received the following question on Facebook and think some of you (yes, you) may be able to contribute your smarts and help a sistah out.

The reason I am writing is because I have been reading your blog, and I know you are in recovery from an ED. I hope that in writing to you, you may be able to offer me an opinion, or help somehow.

One of the doctors I work with I am sure has anorexia, and is possibly bulimic as well. She has been displaying "classic" eating disorder behaviors, such as chewing food and spitting it out, not swallowing, and baking late at night. We have also found vomit in the trash at the office. She is also a compulsive exerciser-she is constantly leaving the office early to go to the gym.

Unfortunately, this has been affecting her work performance recently, and we are losing business because of it. It’s embarrassing for me when I have to hear clients comment on her appearance and behavior. She has become jaundiced from only drinking Carrot Juice.

 

I based my advice on how my coworkers approached me when I was very sick and still “in the closet.”

Oooh… this is hard because I don’t know her and people are different. I think a manager has to take her aside and express concern. “You do not look well…are you okay or is there something medical?…Does you need personal time?” then mention that it is effecting her performance “We have noticed that you leave early. This is becoming a problem, how can we help…." etc.

Gauge how open she is. Do not mention the ED symptoms (vomit…etc) and try and avoid talk of weight. Talk about fatigue or tardiness. If you have a friendly relationship with her you can be more specific.

Here’s a bit more about my experience while I’m on topic:

Since my office environment was familial, I had the luxury of being approached on a personal level that felt natural and caring.

My coworkers knew I had “issues” with my diet and didn’t eat cake or sugar (I claimed hypoglycemia) but they started expressing concern when my weight plummeted following the end of a relationship. I went from eating very little to nothing at all and weighing maybe 95 lbs to maybe 70 lbs. It was UG-A-LEE.

When people expressed concern I lied and said I had stomach issues and that I didn’t know what was wrong but was seeing a Dr. 

When my brain and consequently my work performance suffered, my manager took me aside to intervene. She asked if I needed time off, and worried that I was so frail. I told her I was sick and couldn’t eat. I was too ashamed to tell anyone about my disorder. I focused on the stress I was going through after my break-up and a recent move.

She gave me personal days and lovingly offered support. She gave me the insurance info for mental health services, etc. She checked in with me. She was a confidante.

My condition worsened (I have little to no recollection when I was at my worst). Eventually I had to step down from a mid-management position I’d been promoted too. I was put on “probation” and my work performance was closely monitored. This was done in a very kind and loving way.

This picture is long after I got back from a brief hospital stay. Bag Empty. Cat Out. Meat on Bones.

 

I was “in recovery” but still not eating (during the day? Never!). I actually ended up being the birthday party planner and would order elaborate cakes each month but never eat them. I was able to feel a part of the office that way.

I was “functioning” with an eating disorder.

For the most part, besides some of the closer friends I had at work, nobody said anything. But I always assumed everyone “knew.” Offices gossip, you know.

My work-friends were understanding. They understood when I avoided company lunches. My manager would buy a special supply of sugar-free candy for me while everyone else got chocolate or she’d get me a small toy instead of a cupcake. So sweet.

I’ve had other jobs since then. My behavior and appearance are more normal and I’m more open to explain my “issues” when someone brings up food or weight so I don’t have really have this issue anymore.

And now I’d like to pass the mic.

• What would you do if you think a co-worker has issues with eating?
• Have you ever been in this position?
• If you’ve struggled with an eating disorder, has anyone at your workplace approached you?

PS- If you are a former co-worker feel free to share your experience of dealing with me when I was “snakes and monkeys on a hot, sticky messy plane.”

Don’t be scared. Spill it.

 

 

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