But first... you have to want it......

Recovery is a long and arduous journey and we will doubleback and take many detours and winding paths.

And we will stumble and we will fall.

But first, and always first....

You do have to want it enough.

Unlike other things in life, it is something where wanting it enough does count.

It is our dark and dirty little secret, that we do not want to let it go.

That we still believe in it, take shelter and comfort in it.

That it is in our friend in darkness.

It does not matter how wrong we are, how confused we are, how much evidence to the contrary we are presented with- remember- it is a mental illness.

But that is the true first step.

You have to want it.

You have to want to unfold your fist and let go of the thing you have been holding onto so tightly- like a superstition....because that is what it really is. A superstition, only this one isn't silly, like a rabbits foot, or a lucky penny. It's deadly.

The Power of Thin

I have almost posted this several times, but it is a difficult concept to put into words and to share. I feel like it is time for me to explore this deeper. I already know that what I write tonight is still only going to capture a percentage of the mumbo-jumbo floating around in my head...

What does it mean to us? To be thin? I often ask my ED friends that question, what does THIN mean to you. And I think it's time I attempt to answer that question. My own answers are not pretty, they do not say the kindest things about my nature. But emotional honesty is the name of the game in recovery...So... here goes...

For me Thin at times has represented a form of power. But it is a twisted and perverted form of power.

First, being thin means you will be seen as frail and delicate by those that might (or you wish would) have natural urges to protect you. That is power gained through being the weak. The image I often have is of the ballerina, so strong in form, angular and powerful on the stage, but in person, delicate and "special" to those around her. At times I think it is a reflection of how tiny and frail we actually feel on the inside. How we wish the world would at times protect us more. Many of us do not feel that, do not benefit from that from those around us. It is a calling out to the world, see, I need help, I need support, I need to be swaddled like a small child or held up against the wind. While we are type A achiever and perfectionistic people, we often are intensely frail and insecure inside, simultaneously pushing away and pulling at those who might help us.

But there is also a form of power gained (particularly among women- and between women) as conquering the fight against fat shows that you have greater strength than other women. I like to think of this as the "long jacket, short skirt" woman in the Cake song.... Allowing fat on your body is a sign of personal weakness among women. It is a signal to other women that you are in some way superior to them. The secret desire to be called the "skinny bitch". There are times in your life, where this motivation is stronger or weaker. Among the anorexics who are even recovering, it is eerie how quickly the conversation can become competitive as to WHO lost the most weight or WHO can eat the least. this is an overly simplistic explanation- and one that I know is not shared by all... but ashamedly... at times... I have strived for this and thrilled at having that competitive edge...

Fat also represents aging, and thin still represents youth, the young adolescent body-under developed, untouched by the years, by childbirth, by stress and age. Many of us continue to buy into the youth culture and compare our bodies to girls and young women much younger than ourselves. Being thin represents an attempt to maintain eternal youth. It is in some way a rejection of the time that has passed and the experiences our bodies have been through as well. And we do perceive that youthfulness and young figure to be more desirable and crave that eternal attractiveness.

But finally, it is also a rejection of all that is upon us. A rejection of standing out in a room, or taking up place. It is a desire to be invisible, to be unnoticed, unexceptional, to be able to slip quietly into the back of the room and not STAND OUT because we are SO LARGE. We perceive that the larger a person is, the more others will notice and criticize them, so it is a hope that we can flee from this intense criticism on at LEAST one dimension. Thus, it is a rejection of feeling your thighs touch each other, or a little bit of belly hanging over the jeans. Being thin per se, is often not the goal. It is the LACK of fat which is the goal. Many of us are choosing to reject the family genetics from which we come, we have come to associated full figuredness with certain stereotypes and have developed a sense of agony and torture over the thought of being anything like that. What the "round" middle age woman means to me now, is not a person I want to be- as in my mind she is not athletic, vivacious, competent, sexy, ambitious. Every ounce of fat upon my body, apparently takes away from these characteristics. For me at times, I have been able to actually say; " I would rather be dead than Fat". It is a desperate attempt to NOT be something, rather than a seeking of the power of thin. It is a running away from fat, because of what we believe "fat" makes us.

I know I do not want to be frail or seen as frail, I do not want to be a competitive bitch among women, I do not want to be thirteen years old, and I do not want to run away from who I am anymore.

I am Amy, no more, no less. Just Amy.

With powers of my own not tied to my weight or figure or age....

Our own Portraits of Dorian Gray

An analogy lately has been in my mind and it has been puzzling me (as a writer) as to the best way to get it onto paper.

There was an old movie, most likely based on a book I suppose, that I remember seeing as a child, The Portrait of Dorian Gray.

The story has all the classic elements of a "selling your soul to the devil" story. The tragic lead character makes an exchange with the devil for something they desire and in doing so, in reality suffers some tragic -ironic- outcome.

In this particular tale, Dorian sells his soul to the devil for eternal youth and beauty but in exchange is given a portrait of himself how he really truly is. And it not only represents his true aging processes, but his true moral character over time. Dorian over time, will peek at the portrait, as it becomes a gradually more horrifying representation of himself. And even though his outward manifestation of beauty and appearance to the world is unchanged, his own fixation with what is happening with the portrait- thus his internal self- will cause him eternal suffering. Yet he is not mature enough himself to truly understand the paradox within which he is caught.

For me at least, over the years, I have found myself quite aware of that portrait of Amy that others are not aware of. I did indeed attempt to sell myself to the Demon Ed for some concept of eternal youth and beauty. However in doing so in reality I destroyed my internal self in two very real ways- psychologically and in an extremely real physical sense. I would be ashamed to admit the very real consequences to my internal organs and health due to the horrible things I have done to my body over the years, many of which are embarrassing. I have a sense that my external body has the appearance of a 35 year old, but I feel as though I am carrying around 70 year old organs at times. And my portrait would indeed capture that (yes I am a fan of Frida Kahlo's works..... see the connection...)

More significantly though perhaps is the psychological element that would have to be incorporated into my picture. While we suffer from self-loathing and a form of self-punitive mental processes that others are at times aware of, it is evident to me now from my interactions that nobody REALLY understands the depths to which these self hating thoughts are truly nightmarish and horrible at times. To look inside our minds at the times when we are cruelest to ourselves would be utterly painful to the "normal" outsider. This twisted and at times vitriolic load of black bile that only we can pour upon ourselves is also one of the HARDEST things to stop. (Another apropo analogy would be Hieronymus Bosch- yes another favorite artist of mine.)

The irony is that we are so careful to portray for the world only the brightest and shiniest parts of our personality, that few people are really aware of the dark suffering we carry. In fact, I remember showing my husband photos of my on-line recovery friends and him saying, "I just don't understand it, you are all so pretty" But that is precisely it. We are- we are all so fixated on our outside appearances, that regardless of our weight or genetics, yes, we are pretty. Pretty, gentle, sweet, kind women. Experts in grooming, appearances and demeanor. All of us.

In order to recover-- the outside has to begin to match the inside... the inner health both physically and psychologically must have a chance to heal.

And while this is a rather intense post and I have put off talking about it-- I will end on this note-- my Portrait of Amy-- is so much nicer than it used to be---I am healing psychologically and physically, and it just FEEELS so good.

The difference now between myself and food

So a thought occured to me...

The big difference now between myself and food is that i no longer really fear it. I understand now that it is not the food that is to blame, or is the problem ever, it is what I do with food, or rather what i perceive the food does. And that is good, because anytime you fear something, it has power over you.

Where I still struggle is that I do not really LIKE food still. Food and I still sort of eye each other with a little disdain. I still resent that it has caused me so much pain in my life, I still do not enjoy most flavors, most dishes, cooking is a process I do not relish. I do not like being full, I do not like sensations of eating, or hunger, or satiation. I do not like food aromas. i do not want to share meals with people, or go to restaurants really (just drinks, coffee, or tea, please). To me, the whole food and eating thing is just this giant pain in the butt that i pretty much associate massive trauma with.


So, I am definitely pleased the balance of power has decidedly shifted and I am the one that has the power. (or rather I KNOW I have the power again because I had that power all along- wearing my little ruby slippers through the land of ED OZ). While it no longer has power over me, power of misery, power of mind control, power of desperation, food and I, we're really not best of friends yet.

But, i'll keep working on it.

Because-- that's what I do! I'm a work in progress.

Taking stock

I really was thinking today how it is so important at this time in my life, in order to remain positive, for me to continue to focus on my growth and the progress I have made in my life. So, I am taking some time tonight to take stock of how far I have come.

Three years ago:

I could not walk a mile without pain or losing my breath
I could not climb a hill
I was often so tired I could not get through a day without a nap and found working 8 hour days impossible
I took Aleve 5 times a week for pain
I suffered far greater depression and anxiety
I had three cavities (making six in 5 years)
And, I was purging at least once daily, abusing laxatives and diuretics



Two years ago:
I had just started the most intensive therapy yet and was just beginning to make vital connections to my past and my present
I was still unable to eat 75% of the foods normal people would not fear
But, I could walk miles again without pain! BUT- this enabled me unfortunately to become an overexerciser and controlling eater again
HOWEVER- I was mentally committed to a life without purging
I was able to say- NO MORE, I shall do this NO MORE
I found my online friends and a new way of connecting to the world and healing

One year ago:
I began to come out to family and friends
I began writing my story
I began recognizing triggers in my everyday life and developed the ability to talk and actively think about them and address them


Maybe it's a long journey, but it is a journey of hope, and a journey worth taking. Good luck my friends, stay strong and stay on the path!

How does it feel to be textbook?

I was looking for more links to put on my blog and I found this:

Causes of Eating Disorders:
http://www.anred.com/causes.html

The degree to which my own story, symptoms and experiences have been so textbook is always something I have such mixed emotions about. Everyone always likes to think that their story is a little different, a little bit of an exception to the rule, that they don't quite meet every criteria, or they aren't "as bad off" as everyone else.

But-- this morning I am going to respond with this- ok, what do I do with those feelings? What do I do about it?

I use that knowledge I have, I use the fact that I am textbook, that I am a "classic" example- to help change the world. I understand almost all aspects of the disorder, and I can use that understanding somehow, to help other women.

All about you....

One of the greatest things I needed to learn and remember and consistently reinforce for myself and my ED recovery friends, was that becoming a recoverer, meant being able to make things all about me sometimes.

And sometimes, that means making your recovery your number one priority in your life, keeping your commitment to yourself to keep yourself healthy and safe above all other commitments or passions in your life.

We are the kind of people that want so much to please others, it is indeed the very nature of our disorder. Yet, in order to recover we have to simply take the time, NO rather, we simply have to GIVE ourselves the time and resources and permission to be self-focused in this way, in order to make it happen.

Recovery is about you
your health
your strength
your life
You

I went to the river today

And as I watched the deep waters running to the ocean,

it occurred to me how much of our fight, is about something

as simple

as water.

In reality, a great deal of the "fat" that we fight, and the excessive battle with bloating, and rebound weight, is little more than water weight. And the precious balance of liquids in our bodies, be it through anorexic or purging means, is something we dangerously throw off. A difference in size, or weight, or perceived "bulginess" that only we are capable of perceiving, sometimes as little as a pound or two, can create a psychological breakdown.

Water.

I could have died so many times because of water.

Yet women and children in Africa
today, as I write, walk miles, risking their lives
for clean water,
or not so clean water
risking attack by militia, rape, kidnapping,
lions
and food poisoning/disease by drinking the water they bring home.
And yet I would fight for years, to deny by bodies cells
absorption of this resource essential to life
which I have in bounteous resource.

DRINK UP

On being women

More and more lately, I've been struck by my experiences and some of the experiences of my close female friends. And what it means to be a woman.

One good friend is recovering from breast cancer. She referred to herself as "deformed" and shared with me the pain and discomfort caused by the radiation. Breasts- the thing that allow us to feed our babies yet cause so many women such pain and even, cause mortality, later in life. She is a beautiful strong woman, and in my non-religious way, she is in my athiest prayers every day.

Another friend, has been a single mother for many years now, and has a daughter who was physically abused by her father and then was sexually abused by school mates. This little girl and her mother have worked so much, both of them to simply survive and become stronger under these circumstances. My friend has made her "motherhood" her primary goal in life.

And the last friend that I will mention, recently suffered a miscarriage and the death of her father in the same month. And I know she is sad and confused by both, perhaps in shock by both.

Our bodies are in ways our strength, our ability to give life in a way that bonds us to our children and to love our children in a way that is unique. I do not wish to discount the bond that fathers can have. Yet there is still something different about women and mothers. And our very bodies are that which women with eating disorders wish to distance themselves most from. My own body, my own marks of motherhood in fact have been the very things which have caused me the greatest pain and suffering for a very long time.

Yet, I love my children with a love that can have no name, no limit, no end. I love being a mother in a way that fulfills me. It was my lifes goal to be a mother, and to indeed have three children.

Even if one did not give birth or choose to have children, the fact that our bodies are the life force that is meant to be soft and viable is often very contradictory to the vision in women's minds who have eating disorders. We fight the curves, the natural suppleness, the normal layer of fat that is meant to protect a woman's body. All of the things that make us special- and different from men. But not only the literal aspects of our femininity but also our less tangible aspects of our feminity defy us sometimes. We struggle with our emotions. We struggle with expressing need, vulnerability. We attempt to portray perfection through strength, through unbroken glass demeanors and perfect smiles. Through barbie doll expressions. And yet, there is an aspect of being a woman, that will eventually betray us as well, because like it or not, we do feel in a way that is different than being a man, we do feel our emotions in a way that those of us with eating disorders sometimes can not bear to admit. Any feelings that we can not control, sadness, fear, anger, we attempt to contain and hide from ourselves and the world. We attempt to neuter ourselves daily in this way as well.

Soft- yet strong--- there are ways to be both-- and for all my sisters out there.... we will continue to grow and love ourselves and (our children -and future children).

Friendship

Over the years, friends have come and gone, and some have been able to maintain their friendship with me while knowing about my ED and other personal "crises".

I have been grateful the last few weeks for several of my friends.

What is special about these friends- what is it we should be looking for, not just for our ED recovery but also for life???

The friends that will tell you the truth, maybe gently at times when they need to, but who will be honest.
The friends who will accept you as you are. Who are not afraid of you or turned away.
The friends who give their time and their heart to you when you need them most, without expecting anything in return.
The friends who can listen, attempt to understand, especially the complexities of our disorder, who do not always try to problem solve or direct you, but sometimes will simply listen.
The friends that understand that for in order for us to recover, we need to be in charge of our own lives, make our own way, and problem solve on our own.

Unfortunately, we will not always find those people, and it will take "burning through" some people to find the people you can trust. But- if you don't take chances, then you won't find them.


Let us not forget though--What do we need to do in order to return their gifts and be good friends?

We need to be able to do the same things. We need to be able to live fully in the world so that we can engage others in their times of need as well. To live confidently so that we can see ourselves as strong friends with gifts to offer in friendship, and to end our inward and obsessive focus on the minutia of our weight and our eating.

thank you my friends

Apple Season!

So folks, it's apple season!

Time for apple cider with mulling spices, apple muffins, homemade applesauce, baked apples... and

APPLE PIE!!!!

My oldest son has decided he has a definite sweet tooth for mom's apple pie and I made my fourth one of the season last night and invited him to join me in the process.

As we made the pie, he watched me make the crust and I explained to him how I had learned from my grandmother and my mother and it had taken me a very long time to learn how to really form the pie crust with my hands. He remembered me saying in the past that you have to get it right the first time and only roll it once and asked me why, so I explained the chemical properties of the gluten process. He requested extra cinnamon, so I of course obliged! I told him how my mother wouldn't use nutmeg, so I always put in a pinch of nutmeg as my little passive aggressive thing and we laughed (and he said so I guess that means I probably won't use nutmeg!)

Then he said he thought it was sad that there were families that did not bake together and how this was the most special thing that we did together as a family. And I thought wow- how little does he know how HARD this used to be for me. And how far I have come.

For all of you who aren't ready for pie crust yet- I wanted to share my recipe for baked apple slices! it's a safe and yummy treat (and great with ice cream or fat free whipped cream!)

6 sliced baking apples (we prefer the tart red/gold mixed ones like JonaGold)- leave the skin on
1 tsp butter or margarine
3 TB water
2-3 TB brown sugar
cinnamon to taste (about 1 tsp to start)

cook in a covered pan on low heat for about 10-15 minutes!

My other ED

Today I was reminded of the other ED (ironic, eh?) that shapes my life...

Ehler Danlos Hypermobility Syndrome.

Today required a lot of pain medication, and a lot of patience with myself to get through. But it was such a powerful reminder to me of why my body needs good care: good food, rest, appropriate exercise and needs a careful caretaker and guardian. It is such a simple condition to treat (for me at least), but only if the one in charge (ME!) is really paying attention and doing what she needs to do.

By being more responsive and a better listener of my body's cues, I am also in a better position to not go from bad to worse right now. A common problem of individuals with chronic pain is not knowing when to stop or modify an excacerbating activity- or when to slow down. But for people with ED's we are especially disconnected from our bodies- often not recognizing, or learning to ignore feelings, hunger and pain. Because I have become a more astute listener of my body, I will not push my body this weekend, I will know that I have to rest, take a break from my usual workout routine, avoid lifting anything heavy and respond with ice, heat, wraps and medication. And by monday.... WE (as in me and my body) will be all better.
----------------
It is ironic though, that I do have a condition which requires me to essentially maintain and monitor my weight. However- by building muscle I have strengthened my joints allowing me to find an ideal range that my body can seem to support without pain. I really am hopeful that I have found my "set point" as the nutritionist said. And I am hoping to move into using the book Intuitive Eating as my guide within the next 3 months or so.

When life changes

Sometimes life changes, and it isn’t always easy.

For some of us, those life changes can cause the Ed voices to get louder and tell us
To make ourselves perfect to protect ourselves from these stressful changes
And to protect ourselves from our fears.

Our eating disorder is our talisman in times of change.

But for me, it is no more.

For ME I will protect and nourish my body as my life changes.
I will be a strong mother. I will not be so weak I can not respond to my children’s needs.
I will not be so tired I can not make sound judgments. I will not let the voices debase me. I will talk back to the voices and tell them they have no more place today than they did last week or the week before.

I will enter the new world as a single woman, as someone I believe in, no matter what my body currently looks like. I will allow this woman to continue to grow healthier and stronger in the image of who she is supposed to be.

And ultimately,

there is always peanut butter.

Thank god for peanut butter.

A little ditty

To the Tune of Handlebars by the Flobots

I can eat butter on my toast
and mayonnaise and salad dressing when I want to
when i want to

I can eat a whole bagel with cream cheese
And I’ll have some cream in my coffee please

And potatoes, cheese, and peanut butter
Bread and pasta, rice, meat and rolls

I can eat pizza, a cheeseburger
And a french fry, maybe even two or three

I can put on my clothes in the morning now
And look at my butt in the mirror too

I can touch my legs without cringing
I can smile when I see my reflection

I can tell you I feel fine and really mean it
And I can just be mad and nothing else if I want to
If I want to

Because I can look at my butt in the mirror now
In the mirror now
In the mirror now….

Our Catch 22

One of the issues in the recovery process is accepting we have a real problem. While many of us would describe it as our "little problem", or an "issue", we are unwilling to come to terms with the degree to which we are aberrant or, in fact, mentally ill. This horrifying concept is so stigmatizing to anyone, but to us it is especially so.

Why?

Because our very disorder/illness is one of perfectionism and image maintenance and acceptance/approval by others. To accept that one indeed has a stigmatizing condition is the worse possible scenario. But one must accept that in order to recover. One must be able to go beyond " I have eating issues" to understand, "I am mentally ill- at least when it comes to food and my perceptions of my body". In order to begin to grapple with those faulty perceptions, the voices that you hear in your head and to seek the full battery of psychological, nutritional, psychiatric, and medical intervention as necessary.

Definitions of "Mental Illness" :

A clinically diagnosable disorder that significantly interferes with an individual’s cognitive, emotional or social abilities

A broad range of disorders with psychological or behavioral symptoms and/or impairment in functioning due to a social, psychological, genetic, physical/chemical or biological disturbance

A substantial disorder of thought or mood

A state of being in which an individual has difficulty in handling situations and feelings of an everyday nature.

means an underlying pathological infirmity of the mind, whether of long or short duration and whether permanent or temporary, but does not include a condition that results from the reaction of a healthy mind to extraordinary stimuli

Consider this:

We can not eat- we are unable to do something of an everyday nature, something of significant important to human survival

We have significant alterations in our ability to accurately perceive how we appear to others- a significant psychological disturbance in reality

These have serious consequences on our social lives, intimate relationships, careers, ability to learn and complete our education, and our families

We suffer serious, SERIOUS, periods of anxiety, panic, and depression sometimes with serious consequences. Eating Disorders have one of the highest suicide rates of all of the mental illnesses.

It's not a "little problem" my friends.

three GOOD months

I recently reread all my posts. Several thoughts struck me...

First, the title of my first post- no sign of real freedom yet. How did I know I was on the verge of relapse. I must have been nervous, I know that I was having a lot of thoughts about my body again and feeling stressed about how I was eating "so much" (a.k.a. normally) again. More importantly, why was I incapable of stopping it? what happened in that week? Did I not want to? What pushed me. As usual, I am drawing a blank on that fateful time, that time that sees my emotions pushed from "I got this" to "I don't got this anymore".

Second, I feel so good. I feel so strong. I don't think I have felt this good since I was pregnant with my second child. Because that's the last time I can remember consistently eating this well. Am I really recovered now? I am clearly in recovery-- but am I RECOVERED--How do I know I am relapse safe? I want to know that. I want guarantees. I'm tired of a life without guarantees.

third, and I think the second leads to this, it is so important to remember that it's not just about food and weight- it's about feelings. It's about protecting oneself, valuing oneself, respecting oneself and being able to say what you need to say and trust your emotions and beliefs. Feelings must be surfaced, must be honest, must be allowed to breathe. If I can remain true to myself and this core idea of excellence in the way of living that I keep coming back to, then I think that is the key to recovery. Even if life shifts around you, if you can continue to protect and respect what you need to do to remain stable, remember that YOU are caught up in it too, somehow then we won't shift to food as a way to cope. Always remember YOU. Don't bury you, don't
ignore you, don't belittle you.

fourth- I am so amazed by how much I changed in so little time, by just trying the meal plan, eating the "new foods" again, and giving myself the acceptance and permission to be me- how I believe I am intended to be. There are so many things I can eat again. To list them is almost incredible, almost absurd to think how little I ate. Meal times are no longer like an episode of the "Fear Factor" for me. It was a brief but strong battle and I did it. Each food, was a mini internal saga that I conquered.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
I thought of a girl today
racing through the reeds along the lake's edge
pants rolled up above her knobby knees
shouting to her brother in the canoe
I want to come too
take me with you

I thought of a girl today
diving into the Michigan waters
in april before the winter chill
had left the lake
and the heat that must
have run through her
tender veins

I thought of a girl today
stacking wood and clearing brush
with her grandfather
in the back woods learning the names
both latin
and vernacular
of wild treasures he had collected there
protected from
the greedy developers
dutchman's breetches
blue lobelia
wood anemone
solomon's seal
purple vetch
a priceless cache in the quiet woods

I thought of a girl today
hauling lumber with her brother
to build the fort
that would withstand wind
and snow
and time
and how she would jump off the rope
flying into nowhere
without a care to the 15 foot free fall
below

I thought of a girl today
standing with her fists
against the pack of bullies
day after day
for a year
and pumping into them fists
feet and teeth
to walk home triumphantly
tired and bruised
but sure that she knew what she could take

I thought of a woman today
swollen belly and aching back
the joy of life kicking under her ribs
the questions of first time motherhood
haunting her dreams
as her body changed over the months

I though of a woman today
baby to her breast
both nodding off in the afternoon sun
the pain of the little mouth
and the cramping of the newly
excised womb
new life,
new day
new mom

I thought of a woman today
holding her crying son to her chest
with another growing in her belly
at the emergency room
anxiously waiting for stitches
for his baby chin
but the weight of both sons
was never too much
never too heavy

This body too
is never too much
never too heavy
It is just what it needs to be
----------

thank you body, I will do a better job taking care of you from now on, I promise.

Writing "The Book"

Writing my book on recovery, has taken on a new purpose for me. It is really the final step in my recovery- as I imagine it was for the others before me who have done the same thing. It is helping me understand myself and my path more deeply, helping me review and remember where I have been. It is helping me understand who I have been and where I want to go. It is the ultimate form of accountability for me as well. I realize that by doing this now, I am saying to myself (and the world obviously, but more importantly to myself) that I am really healed. Everytime I started writing and stopped, I think it was because I still knew I couldn't put the final pieces together. And I didn't feel justified in writing the book. But I feel now that I am a credible "witness".

Writing this is like none of the other writing I have ever done before. In many ways it flows so easily and comes so quickly, but then at times, I struggle to make sense of ideas that are so deeply buried I can't possibly put words to them. And it is so deeply personal, yet I know I have intellectualized a great deal of it, as that is my nature, and indeed there are aspects of the book where I have done that on purpose. But writing the book, is key to me right now. And whether anything happens with it, it doesn't really matter. I think anybody recovering from any type of personal challenge should take this time for themselves to write their story, to invest in this inward reflection and make meaning out of the experience for themselves. In many ways, once I have written it, I feel like I will be able to put it away. I will know I have "borne witness" to the events and made sense of my experience, and that will be an important stage for me in walking away from it all as well. Each chapter that I have written and "gotten right" it has been this sigh of relief for me, because I can let go of those ideas floating around in my mind. This incredible journey has taken place, and now part of my letting go is actually letting go of the highs and the lows and the process. Writing it all is helping me deeply internalize the lessons I have learned in a way that I don't have to process it in the forefront of my mind so much.

But, I am also opening myself up to some other new experiences right now that I am excited about. I am going to try some new and different types of writing and not let myself walk away from them due to lack of confidence (or just boredom) and I've also jumped into a new professional opportunity (well was really dragged, but was dragged along smiling) that I think will be a positive growth experience for me. So, my life is not "The Book". And I have no timetable for the book, because I want it to develop and really reflect what I want it to say before I put it out there. And I really want the confidence that I have the credibility to put it out there. I need to be able to stand behind it and say, I recovered, and this is how. I know why the last relapse occured, it was stupid, and I was in over my head at the time, but still, it was not ok that I allowed it to happen. And I have to have the strength to see those times through and live through some trying cycles and know that I do indeed have the tools and that what I write about makes sense.

this is very stream of consciousness today....

the Young Ones

In trying to reach out to struggling recoverers, it is so much easier to make crossroads with adult women. The adolescents and young adults are so difficult, I can't imagine how therapists can wrap their heads around those cases. The difference seems to be the absolute buy in they have in the "Cult of Thinness". They are so willing to invest it all, lose it all, and totally believe that ED is the way. Older women are weary, and are open to the possibility that there is another way to live. The young ones have idols too, that are so thin, and the media is so saturated with images of perfection, sexuality and over the top fashionistas. Their cries for help seem to be these brief pleas-- thrown out to the black internet void-- they have moments where they just don't want to live that way, it hurts, it is scary, they want another way. Their survival instincts do kick in and they do want out. They want someone to pull them up and release them from their pain. But they want another way to STILL be thin, to STILL be perfect, to STILL please everyone. They don't understand that the "other way" means walking away from those ideas altogether and standing your own ground in this world of shallow iconography. They don't understand that they may be standing in the midst of negative messages from "helpful" loved ones. They don't understand that they themselves are still children inside and need to choose mentors who are strong and stand for strength, instead of self-destruction.

It's so hard for me to try to talk to them. I want so much for them not to waste as many years of their life as I did to this disease. I want them instead to throw it off and grasp their potential. But seeing them over and over hit the same brick wall I did, just breaks my heart for them.

In praise of recovery

I have wanted to really be able to know and define true recovery.

I think what it comes down to is that ability to be comfortable in your own skin, to be free from the obsessions and fears of food, to be able to eat when you are hungry and stop when you are full.

Right now, I can honestly say I am there.

Life is good.

Funny how with the last relapses in my life, I walked right into them. I knew I was going to have difficulty with what was going on, but I did them anyways- hoping- I wouldn't have a problem- but really sort of knowing it was stupid. So, I guess- my advice to my future self is "don't do anything stupid".

Seems like that applies to a great many situations in life.

I HAVE fat- but I am NOT fat

So- I feel like my body image- is becoming more real and more interesting. I had an odd thought this weekend (on our WONDERFUL family trip to Maine).

It just popped in my head.

"I am fat but I am not fat. "

How strange it was. How strange it was that I was ok with it. Even liked it. How strange it was that the word fat could rest in my mind so easily without the burning convictions of my worthlessness and failures it usually conveyed.

I wanted to post this idea today, but then it occured to me this morning that the REAL idea was--

I HAVE fat but I am not "Fat".

Human bodies HAVE fat. We are supposed to. There is supposed to be this nice cushiony layer of fat covering my body. It doesn't have to be disgusting. It is soft. It is supple. It does grow and recede, and shift in its own ways over time. And yes, sigh, it is not smooth in all areas. It is part of being human. Especially for women, it is part of our Womanity- as we are the product of millions of years of evolution (or a brilliant creator, whatever your belief system) that has ensured a delicate balance that will ensure that we can reproduce and survive multiple childbirths with strength, energy and good health.

There are two "ultra-bodies" that I think we (eating disordered) strive for and believe are the ideals- and I think the world reinforces- the waif and the bodybuilder. They are polar opposites in many ways- EXCEPT THEY HAVE NO FAT.

I think what we have to make peace with is that cushioning, soft, layer of energy giving, warming, protective "adipose" tissue unfortunately more colloquially known as fat.

I am building muscles underneathe- and find myself so frustrated that that fat is not disappearing and "melting away" as the myth goes. The trap which snagged me before. But- you know what, I think I will just allow it to stay too, make no plans or pressures or expectations for it. The healthy human body is a nice balanced composition of both. Trying too hard to eliminate either or both (muscle/fat) only creates a disequilibirum that you HAVE TO FIGHT against like swimming upstream for the rest of your life. Who wants that kind of life? right now I have more energy than I have in years, and fewer health problems. I am physically stronger, and my endurance is much better. This is the life I want.

I ran along the beach playing with my daughter, I didn't cover up, heck to be honest, maybe I should have more. I just really didn't care because I was having fun. I even tried the boogie board out in the big waves. I didn't constantly reflexively try to find my reflection in something- like I would have in the past, such as a parked car, store window, or even a fellow beachgoers reflective sunglasses! I just had fun, in the strong, energetic, and spirited body that I was born with.

__________________

Update on the meal plan

I've been on a meal plan for a month. I can't say I really follow it perfectly, but that's ok, because I don't think in real life later I would be that regimented or want to be anyways. I'm having a hard time eating the amount of protein I'm supposed to and am making up for it with carbs apparently. But at least I am in the calorie range she wants. But she said I will feel more satisfied when I start eating more protein instead.

It is amazing to me that I have INCREASED my caloric intake by 30-40% and doubled my fat intake and not gained a single pound. And there are so many foods and condiments I have put back into my diet, that I feel liberated like I can really cook and enjoy so many more things again. Each one was stressful. But now that I see that I have been eating these things and NOT gained any weight, I feel like it is actually possible.

I'm still struggling to decide if I should try and lose any weight right now, my joints seem to be asking me to, (not to mention my fall jeans- ugh) but I am never sure if its really my joints that are talking, or Ed.

For my wonderful daughter

I want a world where women are valued for their strength, kindness, and capacity to give.

I want a world where a woman's wit and intellect means more than her bra size.

I want a world where fashion models actually come close to the average size of the American woman.

I want a world where cheerleaders are banned. Yes, I said it. It's my blog. I can say whatever I want.

I want a world where the fact that my daughter can run faster than any boy in her class is IMPRESSIVE and it won't matter if she is as big as most of them too! (and can probably beat up most of them too if she wanted to!)

I want a world she can grow up in and believe in herself, not second guess herself, set her own goals, and strive for her own definition of excellence.

We need to help make that world for her. I am going to help make that world for her. And it starts in the very home she lives in.

False alarm!

No cavities! Just stain from all the tea I drink. Which is another issue. (I rather overdue the tea partly because it's a diuretic)

Back to my writing

I've decided to go back to my recovery book again

It seems a little hypocritical since I recently experienced failure again, but right now I can use the book myself!

So organizing it, rereading it, using my own strategies that I wrote before. I am my own test case right now. I am taking out things that now don't seem right, that I can see I wrote from a perspective that was too shallow, not accurate, and not broad enough to capture enough different experiences.

Maybe I am intellectualizing again, but I like to think I am regaining my strength and my sense of self and purpose again through this effort that is so important to me. My recovery has been a source of pride for me. My relapses each have been brief, and each have allowed me to see "one more thing" that I needed to work on. There are so many pieces of the puzzle that one has to be able to work on with these conditions. I think until each puzzle piece is in place- you can not prevent relapse, otherwise you are still vulnerable- whether it is by psychology or physiology.

Wanting my reality

I have spent a lot of time thinking about the nature of reality lately.

How is it possible for someone to think they are recovered but not be.

I was not in active denial, or even passive denial. I believed I was in recovery. I believed I had active coping strategies. I knew I didn't feel as good, or was as strong or as healthy as I wanted to be. But I believed I was in recovery.

I came up with a list of things related to "reality" and related to "nonreality". This represents my beginning of a sorting process for this. These are underlying "unhealthy thoughts" or "fallacies"that still affect my thinking at this stage of my recovery.

Fallacy: I can choose whether or not to be hungry
Truth: Internal off-on switches do not really exist
When I am not living in the world of reality, I seem to believe that I can turn off hunger by choice, similar to turning on and off feelings by choice. This continues to represent suppression. Turning off hunger, choosing to deny food as part of my life as a recovery process, choosing to deny certain feelings also as part of a recovery process, continue to represent suppression and stall the recovery process.

Fallacy: To feel good about myself I just need to be "well heeled"
Truth: Physical appearance does not complete a person
My use of retail therapy, using men to make me feel good, the eternal pursuit for the right hair color and hairstyle, (etc). While believing these were ways to build my self-esteem in ways that were unrelated to weight, and in ways that would allow me to see myself as beautiful, in many ways continue to place undue emphasis on the role of physical appearance in my life. When I can not achieve the perfection I want, it still leaves me feeling empty and frustrated. In fact, one day last week, I spent all day in one of my husband's oversized t-shirts and my favorite velour loose pants and it was the most relaxing and self-nourishing days I had spent in a long time. It just felt good.


Fallacy: To recover, my body has to be within a target weight or other kind of "fitness"/ size goal
Truth: I need to learn to trust my body and accept it where it is
I have repeatedly traded in one body project for another. While having goals for weight and exercise can be achieved by people without eating disorders, I can not. I have allowed myself to hang onto this fallacy- and basically-- have a body project-- and basically have a mini (less devastating) version of the eating disorder (body image disorder at least). To truly walk away, I must first accept where my body is now and today. I must have no more body projects. I must have spiritual and mind and emotional projects.

Fallacy: To recover, I need a certain amount of emotional support and lack of stress in my life
Truth: I need nothing but myself to recover
This journey began alone in a bathroom 23 years ago. I do not need to have conditions surrounding me to stay healthy. When I am scared about life, relationships, feeling threatened or vulnerable, this is not an acceptable place to run. In fact, it is those times I need to be healthiest and strongest.

Change is stressful

The food plan is really stressful. It is challenging the restrictions I have placed on myself for so long that create a perception of safety and control for myself.

The thought of eating more to maintain (or even lose) weight is absurd.

Eating more carbs when I have been Atkins brainwashed is very hard.

The thought that I don't have to avoid certain foods, but can choose from any foods is so loose I feel unstable.

The thought of intentionally consuming fat at each meal is really pushing me.

Additionally, I decided to try adding the cardio. Everytime I have added cardio into my exercise routine I have always fallen into restriction and purging. This is very frightening to me. With the cardio, I know my appetite will return. And then I will eat, and then I will perceive that I am binging. I just have to tell myself that the food plan accounts for this and follow the food plan.

I have been doing very well for most of the day. By dinner time I am feeling very stuffed though and not able to keep up with the plan. But, overall I think this is positive. I think that means I am meeting my needs better. My energy is improved too. I have been gardening nonstop! I left work early on Friday to work in the yard because I had the bug. I don't feel the need for as much sleep or caffeine to get through the day. I believe the added carbs in my diet is making a nice difference. Also the regularity of the blood sugars must be making a difference. when I tracked my food intake for her, it was sheer chaos. No rhyme or reason except for breakfast which only makes sense because, it's when you wake up and that's a fairly well established time!

Maybe

just maybe....

I'm not fat.

So, I've been working with a nutritionist for about a week now. And had my second appointment today. She did not want me to set losing any weight as a goal. Not because of the trigger potential, but because she actually felt my figure and my weight were proportionate and healthy. She actually used the phrase "pretty slim" and "strong". She said she can tell I've worked hard on my body lately. And I'm struck. Maybe, I really am where I'm supposed to be. Maybe this lifelong fight to be somebody else, well, maybe it is rather silly.

So, I have to eat more though according to her and I need to eat regularly. Both tall orders. As she is saying this, in the back of my head I'm thinking- you are the enemy. But, I suppresed that voice repeatedly through the appointment. I have to eat more carbs, more fat at certain times of day, and lose my fear of cardio. That will be interesting to see. My recovery has been based on giving up cardio and cutting my calories and enjoyable foods out of my diet. The analogy I shared with her is I feel like I created a Kansas world of food and need to be able to live in technicolor again.

My recovery has been based on living in a very black and white blah world of food. Because if I eat food that is plain, then I won't overeat it. And if I don't overeat, I won't purge. It has worked for a long long time. And I have so many ingrained tricks for appetite suppression that I really noticed this week from recording my hunger patterns. I can fairly instantly go from peaking hunger- to "deciding" I'm not hungry. But this is wearing on me. And it wears on my family. I don't cook nearly as much as I should. Lately we have taken to eating out just because I hate cooking so much. They love it when I try new recipes, and I love it too. They love the smells coming from the kitchen and the table covered with dishes.

I really was thinking this week about my exercise patterns in recovery. I avoid it a lot of the time- fearfully. Cardio increases my appetite, and I have never been able to start an exercise plan without "supplementing" it with starvation and purging. Which usually leads to injury, hair loss, heartbeat irregularities, lots of bad stuff. I have done more damage through exercise bulimia than anything else.

She has left my exercise plan up to me, but is encouraging the cardio. I have two eating options. One for maintainance if I try cardio, one for maintainance if I don't do cardio (I already burn alot by walking, cycling and lifting, but don't do high cardio). If my knees continue to hurt and I want to try and lose ten pounds, she has a plan for that too.

The different Amy's

It's so strange how little a part of my life this is- yet how completely a part of my life it is.

Eating is one of the basic core functions of our survival. It effects all aspects of our being: sleeping, activity, thinking. When we alter our food consumption we alter our capacity to function. At some level, it is a white noise that I carry inside of me, in the back of my mind all day. At times, when I suffer most, it screams. At times it can still control me and I want to throw it off me. But rarely do I think of it as defining me anymore. Most of the time, these days, it is not screaming, it just sort of lives it's quiet shadow existence inside of me.

I am a highly functioning professional, ambitious, engaged. I feed my children, I feel as though I am a good mother. I love my husband and our marriage continues to grow towards something stronger. I have a fulfilling social life. I have largely conquered the emotional demons of the disorder from my childhood. I have read the books, and done the talk therapy. I feel rounded and complete. This me is puzzled by the eating disordered me. This me is puzzled by the relapses. And yet this me allows the eating disordered me a certain amount of leash to exist still. This me seems to have bartered and negotiated an existence with the other me.

I do not think this is real recovery. I think this is a truce. A poorly negotiated truce.

another consequence

I found another cavity. This time by the gumline.

It has to stop.

I'm kidding myself to think that this isn't a consequence of my behavior. I tell myself that an occasional relapse is no worse than if you get the flu a few times a year (oh, 5, 6, 15, 20, 25 times).

The aging bulimic.

Disgusting.

What I wish everyone else understood sometimes

another -brief- but intense relapse (yup- as predicted, hence the break in posting)

purging (after I had been doing so well for so long-i am so ashamed), starving, walking, walking, walking....

Together again with my head straightened on. I have an appointment with a nutritionist next week. Hopefully that will help me towards this goal of recovery without relapse.

the trigger this time? The weightlifting I was doing and being weighed at the doctors. I have gained the 10 pounds that was my goal- no increase in clothing sizes- just weight gain. But seeing it on the scale still entered my psyche and did it's damage in the evil way that only Ed can do. I had hoped I would be strong enough to deal with the weight gain. But I was wrong.

Obviously I'm not as recovered as I thought I was. I thought I was ready to do the weightlifting. But I can't do it yet without more support.
-----


But I was thinking tonight, sometimes it's hard to share with others because of the way they look at us, and think of us, once they know the truth.

First,
The eating disorder is described as self absorbed and childish. So many times it is referred to as a disorder of "emotional immaturity". This writing, this description, while useful sometimes to both the clinician and the patient also is harmful to both I believe. While there are elements of truth in this, that have helped in all aspects of my recovery, there are semantic issues that arise from this as well. There is an aspect of it that implies a childish desire to be sick sometimes.

What I wish the world understood is that I do not choose this pain. I do not choose to carry this. I know the enemy is myself, I do not blame others, or point fingers. But I do not choose this. If I could walk away I would. It is the truest example of what a mental illness is. It is painful and crippling, it is illogical, and at times I can not control it, no matter how hard I try. Nobody chooses this kind of pain. I believe and sense sometimes in talking to younger women with the disorder, that there are stages that they go through, where there is an attention seeking function served by the disorder, but for those of us now, in our adult years. The hideous shame and secretness of the disorder should speak for itself.

Second,
I want you to know what it is like to be me. To understand the pain of my existence. Living in my body is torture. I am trapped inside a heavy, sweaty gargantuan fat suit. I do not know, want, connect, respect, own, this body that I live in. I barely tolerate it. If you lived like this, you would feel the same way. I am sure of it. The small comments that family have made over the years, regarding fluctuations in weight, have more hurtful effects than anyone can ever imagine to those of us who are already carrying this extreme pain around with us.


Third,
Eating disorders do not need a name, a body size, a clinical pattern. If I look healthy, or if I look overweight, will you believe me if I tell you eat 500-800 calories a day for three-four weeks at a time? Will you care? Will you suggest maybe it's a good idea? If I do not jog 4 miles a day anymore, but I have arthritis and sometimes I sneak in a run when my doctors order me not to, will you consider that exercise bulimia? Because I have never binged, but I purge, I am not bulimic. Because I am not underweight, I am not anorexic. And within the eating disorder online communities of self help, you find those that will competitively compare the severity of their behaviors to each other, and expell those from the groups if their behaviors are not as clinical as theirs. There is a world of people who suffer, who do not identify, who do not own what they do to their bodies, because they do not fall under the right categories. Not only are we not good enough human beings with beautiful enough bodies, but we aren't even good enough anorexics/bulimics.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,

We all know how that phrase goes..

"make me the fairest of them all"

For some of us, the mirrors mean more to us than others though.

My life has been controlled by mirrors. Real mirrors, mirrors projected to me by others, and mirrors I have imagined projected upon me by others.

Always my physical appearance, my weight, my size in space, is the feature that is paramount to my existence and my worth in this world.

Today at 10 a.m., the mirror was kind, but honest. A middle aged, but not overly thin nor overweight mom viewed back at me. Kinda cute if looked at in the right direction in fact.

Today at 7 p.m, the mirror was cruel. An aging, overweight, cellulite ridden women with bags of fat. The amount of exercise it would take to shape this woman back into something "acceptable" for society to view... seemed so overwhelming. Too overwhelming to bear, and frankly, not eating is just easier.

There are magic mirrors everywhere, only my magic mirrors are cruel, they change and distort and capture the "reality" of my changing internal reality. If one could see what the picture in the mirrors were as I walked by, they would know the haunting reality of my changing internal existence throughout the day.

23 years later, and no sign of real freedom yet

When I was eleven years old, I watched an after school special about bulimia. At that time, I had no idea what an eating disorder was, how one might make oneself vomit, or remotely understand human physiology enough to understand the dangerous effects of repeated vomiting on the body. Apparently, I was also not old enough to understand that the show was intended to be a deterrent. All I thought was, I should try that.

And so I did.

I went into the bathroom, stuck my finger down my throat, after a lot of wiggling and a little jabbing, voila, produced vomit. And hence my lifelong struggle with purging began.

It has taken 23 years, multiple forms of restrictive eating and purging methods and several remissions and subsequent relapses, to see the light at the end of the tunnel. But I am not yet recovered. I can not claim that at this time. I don’t know if you ever can truly recover in the most definitive sense of that word. Perhaps you only find some balance and “do better”. I want to be better. I want to find that elusive real recovery, because every time I think I have made it, I fail- either though purging, restriction, exercise bulimia or laxatives. In reality, my life, my "recovery" is a cycle of dancing through mild cycles of these and calling it "healthy". I feel as though I balance delicately on the edge, teetering. Stress, mayhem, self-esteem- I know I could be triggered to relapse. I am on the edge of relapse as I start this blog. This blog represents my attempt to prevent it.

So many of us struggle, recover, and yet relapse again and again. I want to know why it is we never fully recovery. Why we switch to a new method of control for a while, simply to fail again. So, I guess that is the purpose of this blog, to try and uncover why it is so hard to really recover.

And more than anything, I would love to just be a normal woman. To look in a mirror and not see something horrifying looking back at me. To look at a plate of food and not debate whether to keep it down. To not count calories obsessively in my head with my perfect calorie counter.
Until that day, I'll just keep accepting who I am. Because, that's all I can do.