Tears, fears, and wasted years

She went to her A.N.A.D. meeting. She cried through the entire group. When she gets in these group situations, she can’t help but feel so hurt in her heart.

People entered the room of A.N.A.D. in groups of two’s, three’s, and four’s. She entered all alone. The roar of talking and laughter before the group started was deafening. But she sat there quietly in her shell, shrieking from every opportunity to break in.

The meeting started with a group check-in of everyone’s name. She had them all memorized, hoping for the courage to go up to someone and call them by name after the meeting. She introduced herself, but, to her, nobody seemed interested in who she was. The meeting began with someone sharing a funny story about recovery. Everyone laughed, except her. Shrunken inside her own private world, she could not relate to what was being discussed. Feeling isolated and alone, the tears began to flow. Her heart burst in pain. She wanted to stop the group and tell everyone how lonely she was feeling, but her bravery never materialized. She was afraid everyone would laugh at her.

She compares herself against every single body in the room. She believes she is alien, different. Her body is covered, head to foot, in scars and burns. There is no absence of self-abuse anywhere. Silently in group, she mourns the loss of unblemished skin, of a body not so damaged and ravaged by self-destruction. She studies the weights of the girls intently, hoping to find someone the size and shape of herself. Again, she is alone. No such group member exists.

She eyes the cliques of girls in the room, remembering the years in school when the popular girls shunned her. Some things never change. She again concentrates on the comparison of bodies. All the other recovering anorexics are smaller than her. What is she doing wrong, she wonders. Why is her body betraying her? She condemns herself to destruction because she can’t measure up.

She is wrapped in self-hatred, with no chance for self-esteem, self-worth, or self-confidence. She is a fragile shell, splitting and cracking each day. It really is pitiful and sad. The only thing she wants is the very thing that’s eluding her.

Her mind shifts to people in the blogging world. It is a mirror to her life. The “popular group,” who e-mail, call, and text each other, ignore her. She tries to reach out, share how she feels through her blog, but is afraid people will laugh at her. She wants to comment and reach out to other blogs, but she is stripped of anything valuable or worthwhile to say. She is alone in the blogging world as she is in real life.

Her mind comes back to the meeting. She is so scared to say how she feels that she sinks back into the imprisonment of her head. She thinks she may blog about her alienation but is sure no one could understand the depth of her sadness and hopelessness.

The meeting wraps up and she leaves behind the sound of friendships and laughter. Through the sting and blurriness of her tears, she finds her car and cries to herself all the way home.

The Resurrection of Anger

Today has been a different day for me. While I’m normally stoic and unemotional, today I’ve cried more than usual. I’m sure it’s no coincidence that my emotions have been a little sensitive since I’ve had one of the perpetrators on my mind today. In fact, the image of the closet I used to hide in has been flashing in my mind.

All of this turmoil is because of a decision we’re trying to make. One of the parts wants to stalk him and haunt him. She looked up his information on-line and found his address, phone number, e-mail, high school, the date of his 30-year reunion, and the name of the company his wife owns. So we’ve been thinking about sending him a letter or an e-mail telling him to give us an apology, fuck off, and drop dead.

This wouldn’t be the first letter we’d have sent him. About fifteen years ago we sent him a letter acknowledging what he did to us and scaring the shit out of him by telling him we told his family members what we did. Other circumstances later brought us face to face with him, and he refused to talk to me. .

I don’t know why there is this pursuit of him again. I am without doubt that he will refuse to talk to us and will NEVER give us an apology. But, for whatever reason, there is a resurrection of anger, and we can’t let this go. We want him to know we aren’t going away; we will stay after him until we get an apology.

But then again, we don’t want him to have the satisfaction that we are still bothered by him, that what he did to us still affects our lives.

So we wrestle with the decision: do we e-mail him, or just stay quiet.

Maybe we are trying to find our voice, trying to stand up for what was taken from us. We aren’t afraid of him. In fact, if we were ever face to face with him again, I would sort of worry for his safety. I know what some members/parts/ alters are capable of. But we just want some satisfaction when it comes to him; we NEED some sort of acknowledgement. Otherwise, we may never have peace.

What would you do? Letter, e-mail, or silence?

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.

Good Enough

I’m in a bit of a slump right now. I haven’t written much lately because I haven’t been in a good place. I’ve been feeling down about myself. I’ve been feeling insufficient.

This spring, Husband and I purchased season passes from Water Park and thought a splash of the water, a ray of the sun, the chimes of laughter would do well to get rid of the winter blues and help us relax a bit. But for me, relaxation hasn’t been the story. At Water Park, I’m dangerously playing the comparison game, and I always end up the loser. I compare myself with every girl there. Every girl who is thinner than I am, every girl who is darker than I am, or every girl who is just different than I am, becomes better than me. And I end up hating myself. I never measure up. It doesn’t matter what the other girls look like: fat/skinny, pale/tan, tall/short, old/young. I will always feel second best in every respect. I am never good enough for myself.

Yesterday was a particularly bad day for comparisons and self-hatred. I was at Water Park and because I didn’t measure up to the comparisons between myself and the other girls, I felt the commanding need to injure myself, to punish myself for not being better. Not having the “normal” tools I might need to self-injure at Water Park, I decided to burn myself in the sun. I stretched myself out on the lounge chair, opened myself up to the sun, and collected all of his powerful beams of light in my skin.

In this instance, sun burning myself was like agreeing with the world, “Yes, I know I’m inferior.” It’s as if I want the world to know that I know that I’m not good enough, I know I’m ugly. I have to put myself down before other people can do it.

The redness of a sun burn goes away, but the feeling of being secondary stays behind. I am embarrassed to be me. I know I’m hideous; I just want to say it before others can.

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.

I want to die, but I won't.

I want to cry, but I won't.

I need to laugh, but I can’t.

A curvy woman

The drama of this past weekend has subsided a little.

I met with Dietician today and explained to her how I felt I couldn’t trust her because she was making me fat. When she weighed me, my weight had maintained over the past month, so she may not be making me as fat as I feel she is.

An area we talked about was the subject of curves on a woman. I said to her I felt I was gaining weight primarily in my hips and thighs and she asked me what was wrong with having curves. When she asked this of me I sensed a great stirring inside my system. Then I heard a voice cry, “We don’t want curves!” I immediately recognized this voice when I heard her and when she gave me images of an eleven year old girl playing at the house of someone that would hurt her.

This is one of the members/alter/part that has the eating disorder. I am so frightened of her and what she has to tell me that I hardly want to think of it.

I don't know what to do with this.

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.

The Reveal

Today Husband, my daughter, her brother, and I went to a water park, which meant bathing suit time, which meant The Reveal.

Breakfast this morning was different. I've heard good things about steel cut oats so I decided to try them. I like the oats themselves. They are chewy and a bit grainy. I didn't like the toppings I threw in, such as the soy milk. However, oats and almond butter is always an exceptional choice together.

I felt incredibly self-conscious. I could feel everyone’s eyes boring into me, passing judgment on my hideous form. Still, I tried not to care. I told myself that what everyone thinks of me is none of my business, but the self-talk didn’t last long.

After a long, hot day at the water park, all I wanted was something cool and refreshing. A goat cheese and cucumber sandwich was all the trick, in addition to my salad monster and mango.

Standing in line for the rides, I felt as if I were on display. The crowds come pushing in to take a look, to stake their claim on a good stare at me. I tried to reassure myself that they weren’t staring at my generous scars or my “healthy” body weight. I tried to think of everything else they could be looking at. Maybe they were looking at my flawless fair skin or my awesome tattoos or my highly coveted muscles or my tricked out swimsuit.

But I couldn’t make myself believe it. I know why they were looking at me, and I have no one else to blame.

I was all over my snack tonight. Oikos honey yogurt, and Pumpkin seed and Flax granola. Someone else enjoyed the Oikos, too.

My doggie.

How to cope when you want to act out

The question was asked of me on Formspring what I do to not act out when I’ve eaten something risky. I thought I would address this question here because I’ve heard from many readers who deal with dissociation and also have eating disorders. I believe it is worthwhile to address this here because coping extends not just to eating something risky, but also to other behaviors, such as restricting, bingeing, purging, over-exercise or binge eating.

Crisp, cold watermelon on a hot, humid day equals relief. And a mighty tasty snack. Stick a fork in the watermelon...I'm done.

The worst part for me in trying to not act out is sitting with the uncomfortable feelings. I try to tell myself that even though the feeling is so intense and overwhelming, it won’t last forever. I can handle the pain and anxiety if I know there is an end in sight. If I can ride out the proverbial wave, then I can buy myself time for when I feel more in control.

Husband and I were at a local mall and made the decision to eat there. He steered me to a store called Fresh to Order and it was so, so good. I don't know every thing that was in my sandwich but it was some thing like Kalamata olives, avocado, cucumber, and roasted red peppers. I even could have an apple instead of chips as a side. I normally hate eating out, but I'll make an exception next time for this sandwich.

Another thing I do is tell someone that I’m at risk for acting out. That person can be anyone. I’ve even tweeted before that I wanted to binge and purge. Stating the fact of wanting to act out won’t necessarily make the behaviors go away, but it does take some of the power and sting out of the feelings.

Steamed broccoli, sweet potato with pecans, and fake riblets. Husband bought my littles a Barbie cup and they were tickled pink to use it. It also comes with a bowl they'll use later.

I also utilize a “goody” bag that is filled with activities that help me distract. I do latch hook, Sudoku, crossword puzzles, listen to my iPod, read a book, take a shower or a warm bath, and color. These are things that have helped me.

I got my sixty day chip on Saturday. I’ve been focused and successful in recovery for over sixty days now. I wouldn’t have made this much progress if I didn’t learn that sometimes I just have to sit with the feelings and let them pass through.

Slowly coming back

I do not even know what to write. Silence grips me. I try to speak but only gasps for air come out. I lay down my life with the memories, sensations, and flashbacks luring me back to childhood. I feel eight years old. I feel eleven years old. I feel too much.

Thank you for everyone who e-mailed me or dropped a comment. I’m overwhelmed at your support.

A question has been posed on my Formspring page and I will answer it as soon as I get my words back.

I don't want to talk about it

But I want you to hear everything I'm not saying.

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.

Question Asked, Question Answered Part 2

Castor Girl asked a question of me in a post on May 8 regarding our loneliness and what was causing it. She asked, “Do you know what’s happened to you to make you feel so lonely?”

Several events have taken place that explain the recent onset of loneliness.

First, I started reading a book called Beating Ana, and in this book the author asserts that relationships replace eating disorders. We began to think about this idea and began to see the trueness of the words. For so long we’ve turned down offers to see movies, go shopping, or have lunch because we were too caught up in our eating disorder. Several girls from treatment have tried to befriend us, and, except for one girl, we ignored them. We cultivated a friendship with our eating disorder rather than people. It was more important to us to skip a meal than dine with someone. We didn’t have time for relationships because we were too busy exercising and calorie counting. Restricting food was restricting friendships.

Totally forgot to take a pic of breakfast, and what a shame because it was phenomenal. Anyhow, we picked up with our A.M. snack of mangoes and raspberries. I love raspberries and I love mangoes, but not together. The raspberries were really sharp against the sweetness of the mango.

Which brings us to the second event: what’s important to us is shifting. Being alone may be safe, but it’s not very fun or rewarding. Every now and then we get glimpses of what life could be like without an eating disorder. We see ladies at our EDA meetings and A.N.A.D meetings who all sit and chat and laugh before and after the meetings. We want that.

This was one of the best meals we've had, at least until we ate dinner. But more on that later. Here we have a salad monster, mango, pretzels, and veggie patty with avocado. This was the BEST avocado in the world.

We sit by ourselves while the rooms fill up with people and chatter. We watch and feel jealous of other girls and the friendships they appear to have. It’s a good jealousy, though. It’s a motivator for us to do the work we need to in order to be one of those girls who is friendly and chatty with everybody.

This is a repeat offender of lunch except with green beans and veggie bacon. OMG! The avocado and "bacon" rule! And the green beans with butter wasn't anything to sneeze at. Honestly, the best meal I've ever had. Hands down. Look for it again tomorrow. I've got half an avocado left.

It hasn’t just been about the eating disorder, though. We’ve felt damaged and bad and unlovable. Who would want to be friends with that, with us? But maybe a more objective viewpoint is trying to surface. Yes, we are shy. Yes, we don’t always know the right thing to say. Yes, we are extremely anxious to talk over the phone. But does that make us inherently bad? Does that make us unworthy of friendship?

Snack time. Little honey goldfish swimming in honey yogurt. Tasted like dessert. This was a great day for food.

While we want friends and see the benefit of having friendships in our life, it is also exhausting trying to like and be liked. There is so much baggage that comes with us that we don’t think a friendship is possible. There are too many declarations that need to be made. Too much background, too much get-to-know-you information. It’s just overwhelming. And how much work do you have to do before you begin to relax with that person and let your guard down? Sometimes I think it’s not worth it.

But I digress. We feel lonely because we recognize we are alone, and it is now on the radar as something we want to change. We’ve felt the heart of being lonely and it’s not good enough for us. Being alone is not an option.