Book Snob

I have one book left to read for the summer, and need some more. Now since I’m a pathetically poor college student, I’m on a tight budget. No bueno for someone who is a voracious reader and needs books to breath. So I went to a *insert shame* used book store with a bag over my head and picked up a few books.

Pictures of hollis woods. Patricia Reilly Giff. ISBN: 0-439-69239-3

Silent to the bone. E.L. Konigsburg. ISBN: 0-689-86715-8

Someone like you. Sarah Dessen. ISBN: 978-0-14-240177-4

One thing I’ve learned about myself is that I’m a book snob. I DON’T LIKE USED BOOKS. I don't like their smell, worn, tatty pages, or discolored edges. I don't like the idea of someone else's fingers touching my book. It's just not right. And I can save just as much money on Amazon.com.

I feel very passionately about his. Too passionately. I think I need a support group for people like me who can't stand used books.

"Hello, my name is Missing In Sight and I'm a book snob." "Welcome, Missing In Sight."

After I left the nasty, old, decrepit, never-to-be-seen-again used book store, I went to my university for a little running and yoga.

I did a five minute warm-up jog, 45 minutes of tempo work, and 20 minutes of the elliptical machine. My views weren’t as pretty as the trails, but here is what I stared at for about an hour.

While on the elliptical, I ditched obnoxious, bratty Holden Caulfield in Catcher in the Rye and watched Maria Sharapova win the semi-finals at Wimbledon. As she was graciously waving to the crowds

it reminded me of one thing I need to do:

Nuff said.

I topped my exercise off with some serious stretching in yoga. I love that we have the lights off in yoga and form a circle. It makes it so much more intimate and reflective.

Note to self: Nike Tempo Shorts are NOT appropriate attire for yoga class. I treated the class to a view of . . . well, you know. Embarassing!

When I got home I wasn’t feeling well. I feel like I’m coming down with a cold, so I took a nap. Guess who kept me company?

Oh, no! She didn't!!

It can happen so quickly. One comment can shoot you right down out of the sky. That happened to me today at the gym. I was down stairs lifting weights, feeling pretty good, and a woman that I see there on a regular basis came up to me and proceeds to tell me that, according to her, she thinks I look much healthier now. She says for a while I had been too thin and looked peaked and sickly. Yes, she says, I look much better now.

I realize she meant to pay me a compliment and how could she know that I’m recovering from an eating disorder. However, even with knowing this, I suddenly felt fat and ugly and disgusting. There are some things you should never say to someone with an eating disorder, and that includes commenting on weight and appearance.

It surprised me just how much her comments affected me. I immediately started thinking I was gaining weight which made me depressed. What an irrational conclusion based on an innocent comment! But my thoughts didn’t get any better. My knee jerk reaction was to over exercise and to start restricting to lose weight again. But I did neither. I exercised my two hours, had snack on the elliptical machine, and left. And in spite of my feelings, I adhered to my meal plan for dinner. Dinner is never easy, as it is the last meal of the day, but tonight’s dinner was incredibly hard. But I did it.

Recently I have been feeling good about my recovery. I’ve kept on my meal plan, been attending my EDA (Eating Disorders Anonymous) meetings, and stayed off the scale. But even now, hours after the comment, I feel like a failure. All my successes pale in comparison to the reminder that I’m not as skinny as I used to be. It’s amazing the power that even an innocent comment can yield over someone.

There’s a saying that goes “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” I’m in hell because of her good intentions. I hope this will pass soon and let me start feeling good about my recovery again.

I’ve listed a few web-sites that list the dos and don’ts of what to say to those with an eating disorder. They are really insightful and helpful to friends and family of someone with an eating disorder.

http://www.angelfire.com/bc/peacelovehope/rules.html

http://www.mirror-mirror.org/applove.htm

http://www.something-fishy.org/helping/whatyoucando.php

http://hubpages.com/hub/Top_Ten_Worst_Things

Will someone please look for me?

Indulge me. I have no words, feelings, or emotions, so I will have to ramble on and hope that some reaction to life is forthcoming. I feel stuck in this dead zone where I don't have the option to live and I don't have the right to die. It's a pretty miserable condition. I worry for myself. I worry that life will overtake me and consume me. I volunteer that "ideas" have found me tonight, knowing there would be a silence in my soul to exploit. And it fills the silence so beautifully.

I'm not working out, as per the treatment team. It's been two days without exercise, but tomorrow I give in and I'll take myself to the gym. I eat all day in the Partial Hospitalization Program, so working out shouldn't be that big of a deal. Besides, I still wonder if I have an eating disorder. Stupid, isn't it? How far down should my weight drop, how many times must I experience chest pain while working out, and how many times must I listen to the experiences of other ladies before I start taking things seriously? Is this how far I've gotten: letting the eating disorder talk me into believing I don't have a problem?

I've struggled with an eating disorder for over twenty years; how can I reasonably conclude my eating isn't skewed and I do have an eating disorder?

I feel sad, unloved, lonely, and scared.

I know my parts are channeling through me. We purchased a new journal that is way cooler than the one we were using. True, it doesn't have the cool black paper we wanted. but this one is fun too.

I'm feeling a lot of self-loathing. I really want to cut, and just putting it out there makes me want to do it more. It's a last resort when every other coping mechanism is shut down. I would like to see the blood well up from the satisfying division of flesh. It's been almost a month since we've cut. This is a dangerous subject.

Just reiterates that we are hopeless. There will always be another self-destructive ploy, so my eating disorder is stolen by them and all I have is cutting. Can't see beyond the scars. I am blind to what all can be found in life. I'm too scared to test the water. I just might drown.

I keep hoping we'll wake up to life, that we'll have a big epiphany and it will make everything better. Yes. As the littles would say: kiss our boo boos. They deserve better than me. I love them dearly. Even got a mini Teddy Grahams in one of the boxes with a handle. They like those special little things. Sad part is the eating disorder parts won't let them have Teddy Grahams or those Princess Graham Snacks. They loved eating them in residential treatment, but now the eating disorder parts will only let them carry around the box with the handle. It makes my heart sad that fun-loving children are denied food.

Another voice says, "So what. We were denied love by the f-ing parents."

I can't argue with that.