Connecting With Others

I don't know about you, but one of the main purposes for my eating disorder was that I was, essentially, trying to connect with others. It seems ironic, as my eating disorder became the great divider in any relationship I encountered.

On the one hand, I wanted to be by myself... please, everyone just leave me alone so I can self-destruct, please. However, one of the main catalysts for my behavior was my unquenchable thirst for a connection with others, with myself, hell, anyone, to fill the seemingly infinite emptiness (or loneliness) I felt.

In early recovery, I learned that the wounds from lost connections of family members, or others, could be healed, to some degree, by others. Not in a pathological, codependent way. Rather, a supportive way. In essence, I could create a new, almost like a surrogate, family that could help me get my lost childhood and stunted developmental needs met. I was told that creating this new family and leaning on others would help me learn to take care of my own needs. There's really much more to this, but I'm sure you get the gist.

The people who told me all of this were so right. While I still have days when I feel emotionally dehydrated, I'm not the emotional sponge I once was. I don't need people the way I once did, mainly, because the people in my life are constants. I don't have to worry that they will abandon me if I don't see them everyday. Not only do the people in my life fulfill a need in me, but, I fulfill a need in them... in a healthy way.

More on this later...

Being Gentle Wth Myself

My therapist keeps reminding me that I don't need to be so hard on myself. I often wonder what it would be like to go through my day without saying... you should've done this... if you would've only done it that way... why did you have to do X... blah, blah, blah. I don't know if there are people who walk around with clear minds, but wouldn't it be nice for one day, or rather, one hour, to have complete mental freedom? But then, I'd probably be bored. What else could I possibly have to think about, if I didn't have these mindless, all-consuming distractions?

I have this running list, both on paper and in my head, of "things to do," which helps my organization, but also fuels my self-imposed guilt. If, and when, I finish my list of things to do, offering my mind a chance to be "free" for a moment, then the body image obsession creeps in, tainting any possible relaxation for my overactive brain.

Did I mention I get headaches daily?

I constantly crave freedom from my mental obsessions, yet, because I'm unable, or rather, keep choosing to fuel these maladaptive thoughts, I beat myself up about having the thoughts--which perpetuates the unhealthy, cyclical cognitive process. Argh.

So, today, I'm going to try to be gentle with myself about these thoughts. It's my perfectionism (and my ego) that tells me I "shouldn't" be having these thoughts, and that my mind "should" be clear. Why shouldn't I have these thoughts? I was shackled by an active eating disorder for nearly 17 years... how can I think that the very thoughts and feelings that created something that lasted so long will dissipate just because I've had some abstinent time? Ahh...the joys of unrealistic expectations. Oh, how they plague me.

Today, I will PAY ATTENTION to what I'm telling myself about what I "should" and "should not" do, and then "CHOOSE" to think differently... one thought at a time.

Judgement Day

Oh, boy. I've really done it this time. Basically, a couple of posts ago--posts that I've since deleted--I spewed verbal vomit all over my blog about the two sisters I was temporarily rooming with. In the posts, I'd said some extremely judgmental things about their behaviors--behaviors reflective of my past--and, I'm sure you can see where this is going... they read them. I've completely hurt their feelings, which I feel terrible about, as they are (or were, I'm not sure at this point) two of my closest friends.

I've apologized, more than once, but I don't know what will come in the future. Being judgmental is one of my worst qualities, and I consciously work on improving it. Being that I'm going into a helping profession, I truly love to help people. As my "professional" self, I'm not judgmental; however, personally, I become judgmental when I either feel out of control or trapped, or when I've tried to help people and they repeat the unhealthy behaviors, ultimately, leaving me with the feeling of powerlessness. It's all very strange to me, because I was that person who repeated the same self-destructive behaviors, for years. I thank god that I had compassionate and patient people in my life.

It was just very difficult for me to be compassionate when I was in a situation where I didn't have space, so, to some extent, I had no choice but to witness every behavior that was going on. Typically, I don't care how obsessive or ritualistic one is (we all have certain "isms"), but after two months of living in a one-room studio and witnessing the behavior daily, I felt out of control. I couldn't change it, because I really had nowhere else to go... so, I became judgmental, because I didn't know how to handle it.

What I know, though, is as judgmental as I can be towards others, it's nothing compared to the judgment I put on myself each day. I hope my character defects are not going to cost me the friendship, but it might. This is typically when I'd repeatedly call myself a stupid fucking idiot bitch , which I've already done, but, for today, I'll try to keep the bashing to a minimum.

All I can do is try to do better the next time. Live and learn, I guess.

For today... progress, not perfection... not only in actions, but also, in attitudes.

stomach, not hunger, pangs

The one thing that still plagues me is being able to feel my stomach. If you looked at me, you wouldn't think I'd have a reason to be as aware as I am about the area of space that exists between my sternum and hip bones. But I do.

It's not that I have excess fat rolls on my stomach, because I don't. But, because I'm a former professional dancer, I didn't have excesses of anything, whether it be skin or fat, until I was 28 years old. Just to prove to myself that I'm not as fat as I feel, I've spent much time standing in front of various mirrors taking pictures of myself with my iphone(of my backside, which makes aiming the camera a challenge). Every time, I'm shocked when my, seemingly, larger-than-life "love handles" are not as large as they feel.

The thing is that while I've come to accept my "healthy" self, I've yet to embrace how my healthier self feels when I put on fitted clothing, when I sit, and how it feels before, during, and after I eat.

I know, though, like everything else that has dissipated after I've practiced acceptance long enough, this will, too (I hope).

After all... why is it so bad to be able to feel my stomach? Where did I learn that it wasn't okay?

"That" Time of the Month

Ah, yes, it's that glorious "time of the month," when all I do is crave chocolate and feel bloated. While virtually every woman has these symptoms, eating disordered women, no matter what stage of recovery one is in, have to be especially careful.

Every month it sneaks up on me. For the last couple of days, I've been "feeling" fat and wondering why my stomach is so bloated when I've been eating so "good." Not to mention, I just moved back to NYC, so all I've been doing is walking around and climbing subway stairways. (Even in recovery, I've secretly hoped that this extra activity might "accidentally" cause me to lose weight). Although I never want to be anorexic again, and I'm SERIOUS about this, even in recovery, I still think I'd "feel better" if I'd lose "just a little" weight. I don't know if any other recovering EDs feel this way, but I do.

Anyhoo, I've eaten chocolate two days in a row, which is okay--I eat whatever I want. But, what rankles me is that in this stage of recovery, I don't want to give into cravings because it's my "time of the month."

This type of thinking gets kind of sticky because, in reality (at least mine), I know that it's okay if I eat chocolate or anything I desire. But my perfectionism, which wants me to have "perfect abstinence," creates a guilt complex every time I engage in any type of food that isn't perfectly "clean." Once again, I've engaged in the EDMF (eating disorder mind f**k).

If nothing else, the eating disorder keeps my mind agile--I think my brain may need treatment for compulsive exercising!

The Big Apple...Oh, How Sweet It Is!

I can't believe I'm actually back in NYC! The last time I lived here, 8 years ago, I was at the pinnacle of my dance career. Unfortunately, my bulimia was building an impressive resume as well. Back then, I spent every hour, every minute, and every second of my existence obsessing about food, inhaling bags and boxes of this food or that food, and hunching over the toilet (or anything that could hold vomit) to undue the damage done by my "lack of willpower," the culprit of my problems.

While my disordered eating caused me to give away my dance career, I have the fortunate opportunity of being granted a "do-over"--not with my dance career, but rather, with graduate school, and living in my favorite city the way I originally envisioned it... abstinent.

So, now that I've been here for, oh, three days, I can say things are definitely different. I am present. I am not obsessing about food. I am not bingeing and purging. I am not spending my days comparing myself to the skinnier women who pass me on the streets (well, maybe a little). I am no longer looking for "thinspiration."

It's funny how, over time, abstinent eating causes one's perspective to change. Anorexia is no longer attractive to me, nor is it a goal I aspire to obtain.

Today I get to taste life...oh, how sweet it is.

Silent Struggles

Today I feel so grateful for my eating disorder recovery because of the opportunity presented to be of service to others. Today I received an email from a woman I used to teach dance to, now a friend, who confided in me about her silent struggle with an eating disorder. I had no idea. It's one of those things that I can look back at and say I get it. I wish I would've seen it sooner. Hindsight is 20/20 though I guess. The email triggered so much for me...empathy, sympathy, sadness, both for her and for me, as well as gratitude. I feel so lucky to be out of the constant mind-fucks and madness that accompanies eating disorders, and lucky to have someone ask for my experience, strength, and hope. Mostly, it was a reminder of how behind the smiles and facades of happiness that EDs so elegantly wear, we really never know just whom is struggling with an eating disorder in silence.