Snacks and other miracles
As I was sitting at the keyboard and trying to decide what to whine about today, I realized I was hungry and went and grabbed my evening snack to munch while I wrote.
That's when it hit me: I was hungry therefore I ate. I have a food plan that I'm following, but even so.
I don't think people without eating disorders (or without an up close and personal knowledge of them) realize how much work and effort and blood, sweat, and tears has gone into that simple act. Before, when I was listening to the sweet nothings Ed was whispering into my ear, I would have thought I was strong if I didn't eat. Now I realize that not eating will just make me more hungry.
My first therapist (with whom I have many issues, but who has also provided me with at least a little insight) said that "Starving doesn't make you special; starving just makes you sick." I just deluded myself into thinking that avoiding food was what made me stand out from the crowd. The side effects of my illness (emaciation) made me stand out physically, but I was sick, not special.
Yeah yeah, I know I'm special, but not because I used to be anorexic. I did truly think that losing weight would make me special, would bring me to that magical pinnacle of perfection.
Perfection my ass.
Gaining weight- deliberately gaining weight- is grueling. I found out yesterday that I'm not as close to my target weight as I had thought. Which is both good and bad. First I thought "Geez...and if I'm fat NOW..." I feel like I've been turning into a hog. I'm going to give birth to piglets! Crap! Now it's a little more reassuring, that most hog-lettes don't weigh what I do, that my gain has been slow and steady. I still hate it. Mentally and physically, I feel like I have been just battered from head to toe and then dumped in the clothes dryer for a spin on extra high.
Yet still I eat. I have to. The only way out is through.
That really sucks. I'm eating my way out of anorexia, and I'm sick and tired of it. I hate this disease. Anyone who says it's a choice is off their rocker. You'd choose this? Good grief.
I have a poster on my wall behind my kitchen table that says "Recovery happens one meal at a time."
True, that.
2 comments:
So far in life your anorexia has not let you fully be who you are. Of course you're unsure when Ed's been your only friend you'd listen to. You can trust your mom, you can trust your T, you can trust me, I promise. You'll be ok when you try on your true body even though it will take some getting used to. 'ACCEPT YOURSELF' AND 'LOVE YOURSELF' has been my affirmation since having my second child back in 1981. I was in awe and shock of what my body could do..... : O I simply grew. I HAD to love me or I'd end up sick. I learned so much from that time in my life. I'd been slender so I knew what I was leaving behind as my body never fully went back. I was a mom though and my body was now where it felt most comfortable, whether I recognized me or not. No, this isn't ana but it was my fear of being fat and how I fought back. Instead of listening to myself, I considered how I'd see me if I was my best friend. I'd accept her. Totally. So, I knew I had to do the same for me. I have quieted my mom down when she complained of gaining weight in her older age with the same wisdom. Accept yourself mom, love yourself exactly as you are. I was tired of her not understanding that life sweeps by us when we are looking at what we look like for too long, judging, and wishing we had a slender shape again as if it's a key to happiness. When we accept ourselves we allow ourselves to be fully who we are and our focus changes to what's important. Life.
You will do this one meal at a time. You are freeing yourself Carrie. Reclaiming what's your's! Keep going. I wish I could help but you are on the right road. I think it was Jung who said you'll know if your going the right way by the challenge...no work means you are likely on someone elses path! Believe me, I have my own path and on it are potholes, just for me!
True, that: truly miraculous!
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