FRIDAY FEELINGS - THE BASICS OF SELF CARE - VOL 1

Never really engaging in self-care, I had no idea what to expect, write, or suggest about it. I've been to enough treatment facilities that encouraged self-care, but I always believed I didn't deserve it, so I wouldn't even try.

But learning that self-care lowers stress levels, helps maintain focus on recovery, and helps boost personal happiness, I knew that whether I believed I deserved self-care or not, I was going to "fake it till I make it"; I was going to act like I deserved it. But where to begin?

First, the website Psych Central defines self care as "any activity that we do deliberately in order to take care of our mental, emotional, and physical health."

I appreciate the word used here: deliberately.  It implies an action that is not easy and for which planning will be needed.  It has to be a calculated, deliberate act of treating ourselves to a special activity in order for self-care to be effective.

For many of us, there is a learning curve because self-care doesn't come naturally.  It doesn't feel normal.  We are more prone to hurting ourselves than to taking care of ourselves.

After thinking about self-care and doing some research, I came across the above image exploring different types of self-care.  Physical, Emotional, Spiritual, Practical, Social, and Financial.  The list is brilliant in breaking down the types of  self care and provides examples and suggestions on implementing it.  For instance, under Social Self-Care, the idea to work on friendships is given.  Perhaps you may call up an old friend or acquaintance and prepare some questions you'd like to ask him or her over coffee or tea.  If hanging out with someone is too overwhelming, maybe you could send them a text, let them know you are thinking of him or her.  You could even investigate some clubs or groups you could join where people have similar interests.  

The idea is to just do something.  Let's get out of our comfort zones and deliberately plan an activity that might make us feel better.

I am deliberately choosing to use Practical Self-Care by vacuuming my apartment this weekend.   I love the feeling I get when my home is clean, so this activity will help me accomplish something that makes me feel good and calms.   What about you?

I'd love to hear from you.

Does self-care come easy or hard for you?

What is one deliberate act of self-care you can take to make yourself feel better?

What are some of your ideas on how you take care of yourself?

Dear Me, I Hate You

These are things difficult to discuss because I'm afraid it will be thought I'm only seeking attention.  So when I say I don't want to talk about it, we really might need to discuss it but are afraid of people being overly concerned or or just not caring.  There is no easy way, and we don't know how to do "this" because "this" isn't a goddamn thing.

And tired of your pretending to care.

It's all bullshit.  I'm against this post.  Never works.  Never.

If the Truth Were Told

I even said a prayer before my session with Therapist today and asked God that I not be so guarded and to help me be open to change.  But what transpired between me and Therapist was more than I bargained for, and I deeply regret it.

As I remember it, the discussion centered around purging and how I think eating makes me a whore.  I didn’t understand these feelings, so he asked something around the idea of did I want to know why there might be the association of food being dirty and how eating makes me a whore.

Here’s where it derailed on my side.  

I said yes.

Therapist tells me the food association correlates with an abuser on whom oral sex was performed by  me/we/he/she/they/it.  

1. I don’t remember this event or telling Therapist of it.
2. I don’t want to know this event.
3. This event must be a lie.

Throughout the day, I reflected on this piece of “history” that has been told to me, but of which I have no recollection, and I find myself greatly disturbed.  It has me twisted in knots and made me profoundly sullen and sad.  I can barely breathe.

I’m left holding a piece of a memory that doesn’t belong to me but still troubles me deeply, and I don’t know how to escape this purgatory.  

If the truth were told, I think this has set me back in terms of therapy, and I feel hopeless all over again.

Both Roads Taken

Another sleepless night so far.  The anxiety has mostly lessened since my previous post,  but the sleepless nights continue despite medication.  Psychiatrist gave me a new med to try, but it gives me an unrelenting headache the next day, and it also causes weight gain, so I won't use it anymore.  I've gone back to my previous sleep med, but it isn't working.  It's our lot in life.

I purged twice today.  I can't remember the last time I purged.  I'm not sure why I engaged in this behavior.  Maybe I know.  Maybe I don't.  Who cares?  All I know is I think about food constantly.  Continually.  Non stop.  Without letup.  And it is ENOUGH!!

When is the next time I can eat?  What will I eat?  How many calories will it have?  How will it taste?  What will Husband think if he sees me eat?  How can I hide it?  Now that I've eaten, when is the next time I can eat?

OR THESE THOUGHTS

How can I refrain from eating?  What activity can I do next time I'm hungry instead of eating?  How will I feel?  What will I do if I eat anyway?  How many squats do I need to do to burn off the calories?  How many calories am I NOT burning by sitting on the couch?  What can I do to jumpstart my weight loss?

The list of questions go on and on and on.

One of us mentioned before how the eating disorder is a safety net, a way to get out of being an adult, and/or taking responsibility, a way to keep us child-like, but it is so much more.

Put the ED behaviors aside, the eating disorder and body image thoughts themselves can not be curbed.  They are incessant and do not exist as a safety net.  They do not protect; they do not shelter; they do not comfort.

They plague us.  They are compulsive, urgent, and overwhelming, and I do not know how to break them.  I am threatened by their existence.  We are at their mercy, and I can not be responsible for their actions.

Bottom line is we are out of control from both sides.  And while the eating disorder in and of itself may be insurance, the thoughts are not.  They are menacing and commence our feelings and behaviors.

We are reminded of the end of a poem written by Robert Frost entitled "The Road Not Taken."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Just like the narrator says, we are choosing the road less traveled, and I know it will make all the difference.  It has before.

Amen.

 

The Miserable Ones

It's not insignificant; it's my life; it's my mood. I thought I had made peace with my obsession, but my definition of self-respect, self-worth, and confidence is still determined by my weight.  

 I only wear sweat pants so no one can see the shame layered on my hips and thighs. I don't want to leave the house because I'm too fat, and the house is tired of sheltering me and my insecurities, tired of hiding me inside her judgmental walls. But I'm too afraid to leave the house at this weight.

I really don't want to live at this number. I'm not suicidal, but I would rather be dead than be this fat.

And I can only guess my re-awakened obsession with my fat might have to do with the nightmares and memories reminding me even more of my shame and damage.

And I'm upset. I miss Therapist, and we don't see him for another week and a half. We don't know where to turn for support. We have no one.

It doesn't matter anymore.  

"He that lives upon hope will die fasting." ~ Benjamin Franklin

“Life has killed the dream I dream.” ~ Les Miserable

Silent Screams

Things are quiet, but they're not. There’s not much to talk about, but there’s so much to say. I haven’t been posting or taking photos of my food because the words aren’t there and neither is the food.

The eating disorder is a little bit louder these days, and I’m having a hard time with my food.

A dichotomy is growing inside: those who are pro life and those who are pro eating disorder.

The recovery voice is still speaking, alerting us there is life worth living outside of an eating disorder. I listen closely, praying she is right. She says there are things in life worth living for. She reminds us of school. We start back in August and she reminds us of the trouble we will face if we are still engaging in eating disorder behaviors. She tells of the good times we can have in our class if we aren’t focused on food and weight.

She reminds us of other things we want: laughter, friendships, teaching kids, exercise. She speaks of attaining things we don’t know we even want yet.

But there is the other side of me that can only speak the language of eating disorders. A lonely, broken, sad girl who relies on the eating disorder to say everything she cannot say. If she could, she would say that she’s scared, that bad men come and find her. She would say she’s hurt. She would say she feels lonely and no one would help her then. She would say there is nowhere else to hide, that she is not safe. She would say she wants someone to help her. She would like someone to notice her.

Her sadness gives birth to my tears. I don’t know where to go from here or what next to say. Hopefully, this is enough for now. The lonely, broken, sad girl is feeling her tears.

Resurfacing

I am now able to breathe again. This past weekend was indescribable, involving all the temper tantrums, self-deprecating thoughts, and histrionics a lapse in recovery can bring. Lying in the abyss of hell, one doesn't feel that life can get better if you just hang on a little longer. Face down in despair, it feels like you will never find the other side of unbearable. I don’t feel the stirrings of hope today or the awakenings of promise, but I do know I’ve felt them before, and if I can keep working my recovery, I’ll feel them again.

I’ll post more soon on my lapse over the weekend, if I can bring myself to own up to things. Until then, I’m still hanging on.

Oops! I did it again...(Trigger Warning for ED talk)

Oops…I did it again. I binged and purged today.

I won’t lie; I felt better afterward. All my anxiety had been lifted, and I felt clean.

It all started this morning when I went shopping for a swimsuit and a dress. I took six dresses, 3 swimsuits, and what little self-esteem I had into the dressing room. I thought there was a conspiracy with the dresses to accentuate every ounce of fat on me. The swimsuits were even more malicious. Nothing fit like I thought it would. And I then I realized why; I was used to seeing myself with smaller eyes. I was used to trying on clothes for a smaller frame. When I looked in the fitting room mirror, I didn’t recognize the body staring back at me. I wasn’t prepared for the insult.

Coming out of the dressing room I felt as if I had been wearing blinders all these months, and they had finally come off. I was finally able to see myself for the size I really am. It was as if this past year I had bought into a lie. Everyone has been telling me I’m at an appropriate, healthy weight. And I started to believe it. I feel like such a fool. How could I not know what size I am? And I am wary of Dietician now. I trusted her not to make me fat. And now I’m the very thing I feared.

So after shopping I dejectedly came home, upset over my weight. I needed to eat lunch, but I was too tired to fix a meal and I wanted to restrict anyway; I decided to make myself a smoothie. The smoothie was good, but it didn’t satisfy me. So I nibbled on something else, then something else, and then another something else, never feeling satisfied. Then Husband went and took a nap and all of a sudden I realized what I could do: I could purge and he would never know. And so I did…and I finally felt satisfied.

I don’t know how I feel about it. I can’t say I’m sorry for it. I should have done the next right thing and eaten my afternoon snack, my dinner, and my bedtime snack. But I didn’t.

There’s a lot going on inside of me. I know we should use our words, not our symptoms, to express how we feel; I don’t know how I feel, so my symptoms will have to speak for me.

Silence of the dead

I don't want to talk about it.

I don't want to talk about how heavy my heart is.

I don't want to talk about how hopeless I am.

I don't want to talk about how lonely I am.

I don't want to talk about how fat I feel.

I don't want to talk about how I broke my heart.

I don't want to talk about how I'd rather be dead.

I love my dog.

Sweet potato fries (yummy!), Quorn chik'n patty with avocado, homemade banana bread, salad with Edamame, Jicama, greens, carrots, and red bell pepper, and pineapple.

Kiwi fruit for a snack. I find them so strange, but appealing.

Lunch - homemade mozzarella and tomato salad,

green salad, Egg Beaters with mushrooms, baked salt and vinegar chips, Doritos, and an orange that said, "Eat me, I'm good 4 you." I love it when my fruit talks to me.

More mozzarella and tomato salad, chik'n wrap with Jicama, avocado, and swiss cheese. Honey yogurt for a sweet touch.

Swedish "meatballs, noodles, MORE homemade mozzarella and tomato salad (I was getting sick of it at this point), green salad, and my fave: honey yogurt.

Veggie burger, THE LAST of the mozz. and tomato salad, green salad, salt & vinegar chips, and strawberries. (I bought a huge tray of strawberries. I'll be eating them forever.)

Breakfast - Organic oatmeal, almond butter, soymilk, and strawberries.

Snack - Strawberries and cocoa almonds. The combination is delish.

Lastly, tofu, sweet potato, salad monster, and the perfunctory honey yogurt (not shown.)

There's no spot in my heart for anymore words. Only the sounds of cries being muffled.

Vegetarianism and eating disorders

I was asked by Dietician recently why I became a vegetarian. I gave her the standard “so I will feel better” and “I’m against animal cruelty” (which I am) answers. But after thinking about it, I know being a vegetarian has to do more with my eating disorder and less to do with animals. I know being vegetarian is just an extension of my eating disorder, another way to control my diet.

My first stint into vegetarianism was in 2004. I was working as a bookkeeper for a small health food store and was drawn to the very different world of vegetarianism and veganism. So I slowly started sampling the foods around me like tofu, seitan, and tempeh. I started feeling better, having more energy, and losing weight as I cut out meat. The weight loss lit my eating disorder on fire. I started cutting out more and more foods from my diet. But eventually I left the job and went back to eating meat, where I engaged in other eating disorder behaviors.

Something new: Nature's Path Flax Plus waffles. Now, I'm not a big waffle fan, but I wanted to try something new for my breakfast. These sure didn't taste like an Eggo waffle. They tasted fresh (although they were frozen) and went perfectly with a little almond butter and sugar free maple syrup. Also at the breakfast party were Greek honey yogurt and fresh blackberries and raspberries. A very satisfying breakfast.

When I went in treatment two years ago, I was not vegetarian. But when they served me what I thought was a big piece of meat, my eating disorder said “Hell, no”, and I told them I was vegetarian. Eating food has always made me feel dirty and tarnished, so by restricting anything, i.e. meat, I would feel clean and good about myself. I realize logically that eating meat or food in general doesn’t contaminate someone or make them dirty. But the idea that there’s still something I can restrict, i.e. meat, is comforting. Just the idea that there are foods that I will not let myself have brings me peace.

Morning snack. Dried mango. I forgot where I picked these up, but they really have me missing Trader Joe's dried mango. They just weren't as flavorful and had a sandy texture to it. It might be worth the 30 minute drive to go to Trader Joe's and pick up the real deal.

I wonder if I will ever totally be over ED. It appears like I’m doing such a good job with my meal plan but my thoughts betray my actions. I’m constantly berated by myself for eating, for being a failure yet again at food. And, yet, there is a strong dichotomy inside. If I wanted to restrict I know one of my members would see to it that it would take place. Her words taunt me. Just try it. Just miss one snack. You remember how good it felt. I want to listen to her voice because she instantly brings me comfort and safety. But there’s the other side of me that enjoys food, that wants to be healthy, and that wants friendships.

Lunch: French green beans, Salt and Vinegar chips, and veggie bacon with avocado on a Griller from Morning Star. I forget what the fruit is. That was also another "let me try something new" purchase from Whole Foods. I don't know what it was, but it tasted like a plain tangerine. Booo.

Food has always been important to me. I remember as a child I use to bake cookies and cakes when there were no recipes. I just threw a concoction of different ingredients together in a bowl and it somehow turned out edible. I would feed my creations to everyone in the neighborhood. I wonder if there is any coincidence to the fact that this was around the time I developed the eating disorder.

This fancy camera work makes me feel upside down. :)

Dinner: Almost a repeat of lunch, except we have a mushroom and swiss "burger", a boat load of French green beans, Salt and Vinegar baked chips, and Oikos honey yogurt. I was surprised at how good my mushroom & swiss "burger" tasted. I don't know anyone other than me who likes mushrooms.

Even knowing now that my motivation for vegetarianism is largely related to ED, I still won’t be giving it up anytime soon. I like eating healthy. I like Green Monsters. I like coming up with 101 ways to cook tofu. It brings out my creative side. But being a vegetarian doesn’t feel like a choice I’m making anymore. As with an eating disorder, it feels like it controls me. But I can’t face the alternative. It’s restricting at its healthiest.

Snack: vanilla soy milk and Honey Smacks. My fav cereal.

We baked Banana Bread today. I love to bake. And this bread is so, so good.

Maybe eating healthy and the ED don't have to be mutually exclusive. Maybe I could find a way to eat healthy, get rid of the ED, and still avoid eating meat. Maybe I could be free of ED and eat healthy because I WANT to. Maybe...

Emotional

I feel so emotional. The least little thing is provoking tears. I never cry, so why are these tears so special?

I'm living in a dark place where no one can see me or touch me. I do not feel safe.

I had an MRI today to help determine the cause of my dizziness and fatigue. I hope they find an answer soon because I am so miserable. I didn't have the physical or mental energy to get off my couch and walk to the kitchen for a cool drink.

I use to go to the gym for that release, but there is absolutely no energy for the gym, which is also causing me great mental and emotional stress.

Just thought I would throw these words into the universe and hope somebody can relate.

Breakfast was my new granola, soy milk, and an orange.

It's a tradition that I take my girls to Dunkin Donuts on Fridays. I had already enjoyed my breakfast above so I just sat and sipped an iced coffee.

I was having a craving for sushi since Lea and I went out to a Japanese restaurant. So I bought some from Whole Foods. It was good, but restaurant was much better.

I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad

I find it kind of funny.

I find it kind of sad.

The dreams in which I’m dying

Are the best I’ve ever had.

Gary Jules – Mad World

Those lyrics are in my head as I contemplate this post.

I find my situation disturbing. I wish it wasn’t happening. What does it say about me?

There can be no truth in dreams; if there is, I’m totally sunk.

Chocolate VitaTop Muffin, honey yogurt, honey graham gold fish, and blackberries. VitaTop muffins, where have you been all my life?

I feel dirty for even broaching this subject: dreams about Therapist still continue. Hold the phone, people! It’s not those kinds of dreams. There is NO sexual content to these dreams whatsoever. But I still find the dreams about Therapist to be unsettling. If it was a one time dream I would think little of it. But it’s happened a handful of times, and enough is enough.

I went crazy for this wrap. It has veggie chicken, spinach, tomatoes, swiss cheese, veggie bacon (a must try if your vegetarian) and of course avocados. All complemented by green beans and mango.

I can’t always remember the dreams, just a bit here and a bit there. What I do remember of the dreams is that Therapist is being kind in some way. Take for example last’s night’s dream; Therapist was consoling us and talking us through a memory. He talked to us very calmly when we were freaking out; he even offered a hug. (I want to rinse my emotions in bleach to take the filth of that away.)

Sweet potato fries, anybody? More for me, then. Also green beans, a cherry yogurt and a Quorn chik'n patty.

I can’t fathom why we’re having these dreams. I’m petrified of what it says about us. We’ve never before had dreams of a therapist, and we’ve had many mental health professionals come and go. Does this mean we’re too dependent on Therapist? Does this mean there is a growing attachment to him? Does this mean the last bit of resistance is wearing away and we will finally give in to the therapeutic process wholly? Conversely, are we still holding back because we’re trying to distance ourselves from Therapist? URRGGH!

We needed a stress break so we baked some Graham Cracker Bread. It didn't turn out as good as we wanted but at least it helped us focus on something other than feeling fat. More on feeling fat later.

I’ve always prided myself on not “needing” a therapist: I’m strong, I'm independent, and I can take care of myself. But what if we are needy? Is that such a cardinal sin?

In the dreams Therapist is emotionally taking care of us, as if he cared and as if we trusted him. Holy h*ll, what does that say about us?

Leftover graham crackers make and excellent evening snack, along with vanilla soy milk.

A mega monster salad. Filled me up good. Spring Mix, Spinach, Green Bell Pepper, Quorn chik'n patty, vegetarian bacon, quinoa, tomatoes, celery, baby carrots, and edamame. And a few pretzels to get my carbs in.

I don't eat food that has a face, but I'll make an exception here. My cute little orange tasted so much better because she was smiling at me.

Afternoon snack. The honey goldfish took a swim in my tummy and they were so, so yummy.

My friend Lea and I went to eat dinner after A.N.A.D. This was my first time eating out at an "unsafe" place. I didn't know the calorie content of anything I ate. I panicked a little bit but Lea was able to talk me through it.

For an appetizer, we had Tiger Edamame. Sautéed in garlic, these were a great way to start the meal.

I forgot to take a pic before I started eating so the picture didn't portray a complete amount of what I ate. It was good and I ate it all. Though now I feel gluttonous and guilty. I came home and immediately looked up the nutritional info to appease my anxiety.

All in all, whatever their meaning, we are having dreams of Therapist. We like the way we feel in the dream because it feels safe, but we don't want the dreams because it feels like it's improper and like we're crossing a line. Whatever the case, I’m angry, angry, angry because it now appears Therapist has this control over us. And I’m angry with us for being needy.

What about you? Do you have dreams about your therapist? Do you feel it crosses a line to have dreams about him/her.

Here's your sign

It happened again. Oh yes, it did!

Let me set the scene for you. So I’ve had a pain in my back for 10.5, and, no, it’s not my husband. I have a herniated disc, L5 S1. So I get epidurals (ouch is right!) every six months or so. Well today I went to my epidural and I haven’t seen this doctor since last year and the first thing he says is, “You’ve gained a few pounds.” WTF? Do I have a sign on me that reads, “Please call me fat”? Does it read “I already have poor body image, so let’s kick her while she’s down.” I mean come on people!! You’ve got to be kidding me with this! Twice in one week I’ve been reminded that I’ve gained weight.

Lunch - Grillers burger, sandwich thin, sweet potatoes (first time eating them) and a salad monster. Oh. Dried mangos.

This bowl is one of the pieces I did in residential treatment. It's to remind me that dreaming, loving, and hoping are things I can have if I just fight one meal/snack at a time.

I cried in Dietician’s office today. I never cry. Someone in the system has taken away the tears. But tonight I cried and it felt good. We talked about my body image and how I feel like I’ve gained weight. She weighed me and, miracle of miracles, my weight was the same. Then why do I feel so freakin’ fat?

Princess Graham Snacks. For the littles, of course. There was a time I would deny my littles the pleasure of a graham snack in the shape of tiaras and princess faces. Shame on me.

To be honest and paranoid I don't really trust the numbers she is working with. I don't trust her to tell me I've maintained when I've actually gained weight. I don't know that she would actually tell me the truth. I have these thoughts that I'll weigh myself in addition to her weighing me so that I can be assured she's not lying to me. My wise mind says she's not lying, but the ED voice is just a little louder and more persuasive.

I did have a soda monster tonight, but not a salad monster. It was all about the asparagus. Steamed then mixed with a little bit of spread and salted until my blood pressure went up. Included is a veggie patty sandwich, vegetable root chips, and a yogurt.

I went to A.N.A.D. (Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders) tonight. The topic of the meeting was about feeling fat and having poor body image. Was this of divine arrangement because it was totally appropriate for what I'm dealing with? We talked about feeling fat or being obsessed with weight and what the feelings are underneath feeling fat. When did that feeling start? Do these fat feelings coincide with anything going on in therapy or some life event like being reminded twice in one week that you’re not as skinny as you were.

This has got to be the best oatmeal I've ever eaten. I don't know if it's because its organic, but it has something going on with it.

I used Agave syrup in my oatmeal because I heard great things about it. For example, because it's concentrated, you only need a little bit. In addition, it has a low glycemic index so it won't spike your blood sugar. Taste wise, I'll have to try it again. It didn't do anything for my oatmeal.

I’m questioning whether having a little more weight on me is beneficial at all. Physically I felt like sh*t when I was underweight, but I still felt great about myself because I was thin. I was proud of it. I felt safe and had better body image. Now I’m average weight and have no self-esteem and poor body image. It’s a dichotomy.

It’s this part of recovery that has tripped me up so many times. I get to this point of questioning whether recovery will really work for me. I have these constant thoughts about not being happy with my body image or feeling that I would rather restrict or how being super skinny is so much better. I want my thinking to align with my behavior. I want my body image to be great and to stick to my meal plan at the same time. Wishful. Thinking. Maybe it’ all or nothing thinking; if I don’t have the behaviors match the thoughts then I won’t allow myself to have either, the thoughts or behaviors.

I don’t know how to reconcile myself to this. I don’t know how to continually make myself go to meetings and see my treatment team and adhere to my meal plan when my hearts not in it. I'm doing it, but I don't want to hate myself for doing it.