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Archive for the ‘General Eating Disorder Insanity’ Category

 

Today I realized I need to officially designate my body as a “no comment” zone.

People comment on my body ALL THE TIME and I usually just let it go…  I’m pretty open when it comes to “body talk.”  Most comments are along the lines of "you look good” or “better" and I can get (or fake) a little "this is a good thing” moment.

It seemed like being overly protective or guarded about body discussion would be more disordered – allowing me to escape further from reality and down the rabbit hole into funhouse mirror land.

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But perhaps now is the time to make a firm boundary (I have no problems being outspoken thank goodness LOL) and not entertain ANY commentary because it just f*cks with my mind. I am a food addict … it is all poison to me.

I have settled on my catch phrase and from now on I will be saying the following:

“We’re not talking about my body so….

 

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and

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Then I will smile pretty and because I am me the person will probably laugh and the moment will pass.

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I should probably keep this mentality in mind when I go bathing suit shopping but more on that later… or not. 

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Many things in our lives leave no room for words.
No verbal expression could ever encapsulate what we want to express.

Some things are just too beautiful; beautiful beyond description or comparison.

 

All words pale in comparison to the actual sentiment.

For instance, “I love PB&J.”

Just. Doesn’t. Cut It.

That being said….I love PB&J.
For so many reasons and on so many levels. 
It goes well beyond the taste… for me,

PB&J is an icon. A way of life. An elixir.
It’s cultural, spiritual, sentimental…
and cute.
I could go on and on and on…

but ain’t nobody got time for that when there’s celebrating to do.

How will you be celebrating today?

Need inspiration? Check out my Pinteresting Board, “PBJ LOVE

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I most likely will be spooning it up two-step style (“dip, dip, mouth” being my post collegiate version of “puff puff pass”).

*Confession Alert*

There is plenty of PBJ in my life, PLENTY.

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I mean… PLENTY of PBJ happening.
I put PBJ on my brussels sprouts for the sake of all goodness (the key is either apricot preserves or cranberry preserves).

However, there is one key area in which I am remiss: 
LEGIT PB&Js

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I’m talking sandwich, b-ich. 

(NeNe Leakes’s infectious spirit is infiltrating my soul)

That means bread.

No, not a wrap. Bread. (It’s complicated.)

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(I need to start drawing my own memes).

Today, I am declaring that a LEGIT style PBJ will be enjoyed by me again.

Soon.  Very soon.

And then again. I promise.

For all the days of my life.

 
 

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MIA Update

Missing In Action

 

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The primary weight criterion for a diagnosis of anorexia nervosa is a weight less than 85% of what is considered normal for that person’s age and height (DSM-IV and ICD-10). According to DSM-IV, a body mass index less than or equal to 17.5 kg/m2…… (source)

17.9 > 17.5

All the applause, all the compliments, all the comments on my appearance….

all for naught.

Unless…..

Yeah….no.

This has nothing to do with recovery.
Not at all.
Hence, my MIA status.

Cycle
 

Which is so unintentionally punny that it’s …..oh nevermind.

It’s not even funny.

It was cute at first….

But I cant keep the charade up anymore.

I’m not eating because my body is starved and I’m making up for lost time.
I’m binge eating because I am a food addict.

And now I am purging.
Again.

Just wanted to document this moment here for my own posterity—and hopefully my future self will be able to see this as a slump in an otherwise upward trend.

PS & TMI- Thong underwears feel REALLY different when you actually have butt cheeks. I think I have chafing rash. Good thing I already have Preparation H (yes I do) and so maybe that will help.

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I’ve been lacking desire and motivation to get out of bed in the morning blog lately.

And really? Nothing to see here ….

 

Except replace the laptop with shameful amounts of reality television and vino. No shame in that game.


(Actually, I don’t watch the Kardash–iansanity but you get it.)

But the point remains: GET.OVER.IT.

Speaking of getting over it, it’s taking pretty much every ounce of energy I got to exist beat this funky-dunk.

I need intervention.

What I have been doing ……

……is not helping. Too much of a good thing is binge eating not good.

I’ll get back up soon.
I am sure.

No, really. I’m sure.

See? Still giggling.
I’ll find my way.

We all have to find our own way, you see… … to THE way.

(Oh look at me…come for the pickles and butterflies and stay for the deep philophosophical shiz and yes I know that is spelled wrong say it out loud and pretend like you are talking to me and now you know I talk in run-ons when I want to.)

 

We all have different ways of finding our way to THE way…

I’m glad I know which direction to head in; and glad to know I’ve a hand to hold, a steady path to follow, and a lamp to guide my way there.

But you know…I have to get out of bed and face life make a lot of changes in order to “pick up my mat” and walk.

 

  • I like to  close comments when I write such a nothing but a sad hag update because…really?

    However, if you would like to comment please tell me your “not-so-shameful-except-really-they-can-be” indulgences? Are they truly indulgences or have they become vices?

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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.

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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.)

Coon Butter

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.

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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.

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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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I was struck by an image that populated my Facebook feed today: 

(Apparently I have a lot of friends with “pants” issues.)

My first thought to be honest?

….Said No Missy EVER.

It was humbling. Though I have talked the talk and walked minuscule steps of that walk, today it occurs to me that this is exactly what I am doing.

WAR.

That word was striking.
War? Really? Me?

I’m a lover! Not a fighter.

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Of course, my logophiliac self then focused on the word PEACE.

Yes, peace with myself would be the answer…the dream.

How am I to find peace, though, amongst so much incredible bodily discomfort? (My issues, again, are mostly visceral and not visual).

To be honest…I’m concluding I can’t right now.
However. I will have faith that this will go away, as I am told it does.

So for now? Perhaps I can make peace with my discomfort?
Let the war happen but what if…
 
war no one

….I choose to disengage.
I try. I wait. I behave.

After all …. I’m not a fighter BUT

Lover BUT

I love myself.
So why not try and find peace for the time being with all the yucks …. because if I try and fix them my way, on my own terms,  I LOSE.

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Hey, hey, hey.

One of the prompts for NHBPM is “Write about something taboo.”

I thought about many things that may be considered taboo– but as far as ED  recovery communities I’ve been a part of …there’s not much off limits. As for me personally with friends? l’m willing to open the book and lay it on the table.

I’m not a fan of the whole “ED-PC” thing, though I am sensitive to it and censor myself as I can.

As always – I like to keep things light and humorous so please remember that as I broach a subject even I find taboo.

So what do I think is taboo?

I think pretty much everyone has a common though at least once or twice in recovery, but it sounds so silly it’s hard to say out loud.

I’m lucky enough to be in recovery rooms amongst people suffering from ALL forms of eating dis-order and food addiction. The whole spectrum: from restricting-only featherweights to obese binge eaters,  and ALL combinations and variations between. Many people experience the entire spectrum throughout their live. I relate to that.

At the end of the day – it’s the same demon. The same Hell.

So…I guess you can say a typical meeting may look a little something like this.

We all different.

Sometimes (not all) the physical implications of dis-ordered eating effect the body in such a way the recovery would naturally produce a shift in body weight either up or down the scales. Sometimes people maintain a weight when their behavior ceases.

We are ALL gaining health and sanity. Period.

Weight is part of some of our stories, however. Some people who are further along in recovery share their story during a meeting – weight loss is often a part of it. The pounds lost, the clothes getting looser…etc.

While I sat in meetings or read online-community forum posts I have, from time to time, half heartedly thought with a silly sigh,

“Recovery would be easier and more comfortable for me if staying abstinent from food meant losing weight rather than gaining.”

Not that I want to lose weight technically, just to not have to go through the painful nerve-ending mindscrew of weight gain. Again – it is a silly silly thought.

I’m not alone.

For some people – they think half-heartedly  “Heck – recovery would be much easier for me if food abstinence meant gaining weight…just eat more and exercise less and meanwhile not have to worry about the social implications of being overweight whilst doing it (thanks, society).”

I KNOW these are flawed notions in so many ways – I think we all know that. Recovery for us all means pain. We have to relinquish and surrender it ALL….the focus on food and controlling the shape or appearance of our bodies and weight.

That means withdrawal. BIG TIME.

Whether that means gaining OR losing -  you’re going to suffer when your food gets taken away from you.

 

Again- same demon, same hell. It’s silly that we imagine one version of it would be more comfortable to handle than another.

Even though most out-of-denial people know these fleeting thoughts are just silly…..I bet we’ve all though them for a millisecond.

Look….eating disorders are not about weight or food. They’re not NOT about weight or food either. Nobody that suffers has it easier or worse  than another. NO ONE.

We all know this. I know this. I want to reinforce that so as not to be misunderstood.

It’s just a little stupid thought.

Have you ever had it?

“Don’t you wish your recovery was “easy” like “theirs?”
LOL.

The grass is never greener…in hell.

There you have it. Two days in a row missed. You’re allowed two days off but I can tell you right now there will be MANY more where those came from. #gettingold.
Previous posts for NHBPM can be found
here.

 

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