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Tuesday, September 30, 2008
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Monday, September 29, 2008
I want to be healthy but I want to be thinnnnn
I want health--I hate the pain the insanity the weakness the ugliness of anorexia. But I still want the thin body. I don't feel comfortable with my breasts, with my ass, with my hips. I liked my body best when I weighed 85 or less. I didn't think I was thin but I could tolerate my body then. My body at 96 pounds is cumbersome and heavy and sluggish. It is made of lead, it seems. Yet I eat because I fear relapse. But--part of me hopes I will relapse, but that the relapse only means lower weight and none of the problems that accompany worsening anorexia. Deluded much?
Sunday, September 28, 2008
No Time for Food
I dropped a few pounds this week simply because I was too busy to eat properly. I worked 57 hours this week (plus my classes) and didn't eat one proper meal. I ate loads of junk food, however, and got very little exercise, so I'm surprised I lost any weight. Now I'm 5'4 and 96 lbs, which is "anorexic" but not emaciated. I like the way it looks, to be honest; I like the bones and I like seeing the muscle and sinew instead of fat. I'm worried about losing much more, though, because I feel I messed up my diet and exercise so much and need to get back to exercising and eating healthy. That would entail more calories spent and more weight lost. If I lose much more, I will look unhealthy and will lost strength. I don't want that; I definitely need to make an effort to keep the weight on.
My metabolism does require a lot of food; some people might really like the idea of being able to eat 2500-3000 calories a day and not gain weight, but I don't. I am very self-conscious about the amount I eat. I feel like people will think I'm greedy or bulimic if I eat what I need. I eat small amounts in front of people or I don't eat publically at all, which then makes people think I'm starving myself even though I compensate in private. I normally eat quite large meals at home alone; these are not binges and I do not purge them. I eat because I have to in order to keep my weight stable. Often when I'm busy, I rely on high-calorie junk food or even Boost (a high calorie supplement) to keep my weight up. I always know in the back of my mind that it would be so easy to not do this. I'm rarely hungry and can fly through the day on less than 1,000 calories. Problem is, once I do this once or twice, it becomes the new norm and I begin to crave the feeling of hunger, of light-headedness, of burning fat and muscle I can't afford to lose. I see the scale go down and like the lower number and think that a few more pounds won't be noticeable and it would be my little secret. I get addicted to lowering this number, and there is a new goal every time I see a lower number. 96 sounds too high--94 sounds better. Then maintain that weight, but if I happen to inadvertently weigh 93 one day, I will probably think 92 is better because it is an even number. Then if I get sick and lose a few pounds, say to 89 pounds, I'm likely going to wait until I hit 88 to maintain. Only once, other than in the hopsital, did the number it was okay to stay at get higher; that was 8 months ago when I felt so ill at 95 pounds. I'd been depressed and malnourished, so I told myself to get up to 100 and stay there. That worked until recently. Since I feel okay at 96, I really don't see what the harm is of going to 94. Or 92. Or 88. But then where does it stop? And is it really possible to be healthy at these weights? I doubt it.
My metabolism does require a lot of food; some people might really like the idea of being able to eat 2500-3000 calories a day and not gain weight, but I don't. I am very self-conscious about the amount I eat. I feel like people will think I'm greedy or bulimic if I eat what I need. I eat small amounts in front of people or I don't eat publically at all, which then makes people think I'm starving myself even though I compensate in private. I normally eat quite large meals at home alone; these are not binges and I do not purge them. I eat because I have to in order to keep my weight stable. Often when I'm busy, I rely on high-calorie junk food or even Boost (a high calorie supplement) to keep my weight up. I always know in the back of my mind that it would be so easy to not do this. I'm rarely hungry and can fly through the day on less than 1,000 calories. Problem is, once I do this once or twice, it becomes the new norm and I begin to crave the feeling of hunger, of light-headedness, of burning fat and muscle I can't afford to lose. I see the scale go down and like the lower number and think that a few more pounds won't be noticeable and it would be my little secret. I get addicted to lowering this number, and there is a new goal every time I see a lower number. 96 sounds too high--94 sounds better. Then maintain that weight, but if I happen to inadvertently weigh 93 one day, I will probably think 92 is better because it is an even number. Then if I get sick and lose a few pounds, say to 89 pounds, I'm likely going to wait until I hit 88 to maintain. Only once, other than in the hopsital, did the number it was okay to stay at get higher; that was 8 months ago when I felt so ill at 95 pounds. I'd been depressed and malnourished, so I told myself to get up to 100 and stay there. That worked until recently. Since I feel okay at 96, I really don't see what the harm is of going to 94. Or 92. Or 88. But then where does it stop? And is it really possible to be healthy at these weights? I doubt it.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Better than I've Ever Been
I struggle with anorexia, but in many respects, I'm better than I've ever been. When I look back at my life three years ago, I am amazed at the progress. I try to focus on the progress rather than the behavior and symptoms that persist. Three years ago, I was on a mission to get rid of all my body fat. I thought of nothing else. I ate only enough to get on my bike and ride 30 miles uphill and topped it off with an hour run. Well, sometimes an hour and a half--maybe with a hike and some calisthenics thrown in. It sounds as though I was in excellent shape--but I had this maniacal energy only when exercising. For some reason, even when my heart beat so fast I couldn't breathe, even when I was close to blacking out, I could keep going until I hit that 3o mile mark. I was perilously close to heart failure and I knew it because once I stopped my ride or run or hike, I could barely breathe, could barely move and my heart beat so hard my body shook. My brain felt fuzzy, on the verge of shutting down--I felt on the verge of fainting constantly and I sometimes did. Once I blacked out for the briefest of moments and toppled over a curb on a busy highway. Luckily, I fell toward the curb and I sustained only scrapes and bruises. This was all incredibly scary; I knew I was dying, but I had only one purpose in my life at that time: to get rid of all the fat (of course, there was already virtually no fat--I was a well-toned cadaver). If I gave up this pursuit, I had no reason to get up at all. On the days my heart wouldn't calm down at all, on the days when I was bedridden, I felt the fattest and thought I wouldn't care if I died.
Three years later and when I feel crappy, I can relax. I have many reasons for living and I usually enjoy my life. I have a job, I go to school, I have friends and hobbies and I enjoy spending time with my family. I go to church without thinking I'm too fat and too evil to be sitting there. I can attend classes without thinking about how fat I am and what I've eaten that day and what I plan to eat later. I can sit and not think that I'm getting fat because I'm not exercising. I can sleep through the night (unless I've had a bad day eating-wise). I can sometimes go a few days without weighing myself. It is not the end of the world if my pants are a size 1 instead of a 00. The things that make me proudest are that little things that used to cause me such turmoil, like getting dressed (no matter how thin I was, I always thought I was too fat to be seen and dressed to disguise my fat) are now routine. I can get ready for work in 10 minutes. I can eat even when I'm not sure how much exercise I'll have time for. I have a job and no one thought three years ago that this would ever be possible. I was described as having a poor prognosis; mental health professionals and doctors thought I would not recover. In fact, they thought I'd die within the next few years. Since I'd been told I would die in a few months when I was 19 and had made it to age 26, I thought they were full of it; now I'm not so cavalier--I feel very lucky that I escaped with my life.
I'm very grateful to be where I am today, mentally, physically and spiritually. But this is not easy and I do not consider myself recovered--I'm in the recovery process. I'm diagnostically anorexic still (though my weight is very close to being over that 17.5 BMI that is the, in my opinion, arbitrary cut-off for diagnosing the illness.) But--I have had a few menstrual cycles over the last two years, yay for my bones and reproductive health! I think about the progress I've made and I get offended when people say I look anorexic or when I'm told that is still my diagnosis. I think that not wanting to be anorexic is a major indicator of my progress! Before, I felt good when people told me how emaciated I was. Now if I'm told I'm skinny, I feel a little hurt. I want to be seen as thin but muscular. Skinny sounds insubstantial, weak.
All that being said, I need to be honest about the bad things. If I dwell only on the good aspects of my life, it is easy to ignore what should be addressed, things that left unchecked could lead to a relapse.
I feel fat. That never went away, but over the past few months, I've been more distressed about any extra skin than I've been in a while. Logically, I know that I am simply pinching skin and that the fact I have breasts does not mean I am a fat person. Yet I body check a lot. Pinch, pinch, pinch. Still want 0% body fat. I'm still jealous of ultra-muscular yet superskinny physiques like those of marathoners and ballet dancers.
I've never stopped weighing myself, and I've discovered that while not deliberately trying to lose weight, when I do lose a few pounds I want to maintain that lower weight. And that lower weight pleases me a little too much.
When I am busy I don't remember to eat. And I am very busy. Is this business a way to avoid eating? I can seldom rely on hunger cues; I rely on light-headedness and confusion to tell me when to eat and that is not normal, nor did that actually ever normalize. My meals and portions were chosen for me (it's called "mechanical eating") even during the last week of treatment. I never learned "intuitive eating;" I usually just have a routine of eating a certain amount at a certain time whether I think I'm hungry or not. And now with my schedule having gotten so full, I have less opportunities to establish such a routine. I eat lot of fruit and candy and protein powder, so I get a lot of calories, but that is not the "normal" behavior I strive for.
My exercise habits are a source of pride considering where I came from, but although I exercise far far less and don't exercise when injured or ill, I am still compulsive and I do overdo sometimes. I try and ease up when I feel the symptoms of overtraining and I have a variety of activities I do so I don't get OCD about things like mileage and intensity of training, however I feel really guilty and fat when I think about how little I exercise compared to what I did even a year ago (I struggled with the exercise part of the equation until around 9 months ago when I got very ill, lost too much weight, and had to stop for a few weeks. This interrupted the cycle and it had never gotten as out of control since). The interruption of exercise in the hospital surprisingly didn't help once I got out--I increased from 0 hours of exercise a day while monitored 24 hours a day to 3 hours a day within a week :( I currently exercise 1hr-2hrs a day, sometimes a bit more, but I generally average 2 hrs. This sounds like a lot, but most of it is moderate exercise. I count stretching and walking, and I used to not count moderate exercise in my totals. Therefore, if I walked three hours, biked 2.5 hours, ran 1 hour, I'd only count 3.5 hours of exercise.
I have started to think I really don't need to be in therapy anymore--I've cancelled several appointments in a row and say to myself it is because I'm too busy--but just 5 months ago, I would request time off from work to keep my appointments. I could still do this, but I don't. Running away from the fear that I'm relapsing? Maybe. I hate disappointing people and I always feel I've disappointed people when my eating disorder is worse. On the plus side, I'm writing this down and acknowledging it. I even said as much to my ED group therapist, explaining that because of work, I needed to come in less frequently. Then I said if it wasn't ok, I could just not come. She said she'd try to work something out and I mentioned that I did feel I benefited from the group, particularly because I felt guilty when I wasn't doing everyting I was supposed to have done. That day, I'd exercised a lot and had eaten maybe 300 cals, which is unacceptable. I felt dizzy in group and could barely concentrate. I hadn't planned on mentioning this, either, but I'm glad I did. If I hadn't, I likely would have thought I'd gotten away with something and that it was ok to repeat this the next day and thereafter. Because I admitted this out loud to someone, I felt like I needed to change the pattern immediatly. The next day, I more than doubled the previous day's intake and cut back on the exercise. That was incredibly hard. I felt so fat and lazy. But I know it was the right thing to do.
This was a super-long post, but I needed to write all this down because I have a hard week ahead with a lot of room for slipping. I'm working 53 hrs from Monday to Saturday and I have classes with tons of papers and assignments due, plus a birthday shindig to attend. Yikes!
My thoughts and prayers are with all of you fighting to beat an eating disorder. Please take care of yourself and give yourself credit for the progress you've made and don't beat yourself up if you are struggling. If you hate your anorexia, that is progress. If you've gained a pound and kept it on, that's progress. If you've had an opportunity to purge and didn't, that is progress. Focus on these steps toward recovery and admit your struggles to someone who cares about you.
Until next time, love yourself!
Three years later and when I feel crappy, I can relax. I have many reasons for living and I usually enjoy my life. I have a job, I go to school, I have friends and hobbies and I enjoy spending time with my family. I go to church without thinking I'm too fat and too evil to be sitting there. I can attend classes without thinking about how fat I am and what I've eaten that day and what I plan to eat later. I can sit and not think that I'm getting fat because I'm not exercising. I can sleep through the night (unless I've had a bad day eating-wise). I can sometimes go a few days without weighing myself. It is not the end of the world if my pants are a size 1 instead of a 00. The things that make me proudest are that little things that used to cause me such turmoil, like getting dressed (no matter how thin I was, I always thought I was too fat to be seen and dressed to disguise my fat) are now routine. I can get ready for work in 10 minutes. I can eat even when I'm not sure how much exercise I'll have time for. I have a job and no one thought three years ago that this would ever be possible. I was described as having a poor prognosis; mental health professionals and doctors thought I would not recover. In fact, they thought I'd die within the next few years. Since I'd been told I would die in a few months when I was 19 and had made it to age 26, I thought they were full of it; now I'm not so cavalier--I feel very lucky that I escaped with my life.
I'm very grateful to be where I am today, mentally, physically and spiritually. But this is not easy and I do not consider myself recovered--I'm in the recovery process. I'm diagnostically anorexic still (though my weight is very close to being over that 17.5 BMI that is the, in my opinion, arbitrary cut-off for diagnosing the illness.) But--I have had a few menstrual cycles over the last two years, yay for my bones and reproductive health! I think about the progress I've made and I get offended when people say I look anorexic or when I'm told that is still my diagnosis. I think that not wanting to be anorexic is a major indicator of my progress! Before, I felt good when people told me how emaciated I was. Now if I'm told I'm skinny, I feel a little hurt. I want to be seen as thin but muscular. Skinny sounds insubstantial, weak.
All that being said, I need to be honest about the bad things. If I dwell only on the good aspects of my life, it is easy to ignore what should be addressed, things that left unchecked could lead to a relapse.
I feel fat. That never went away, but over the past few months, I've been more distressed about any extra skin than I've been in a while. Logically, I know that I am simply pinching skin and that the fact I have breasts does not mean I am a fat person. Yet I body check a lot. Pinch, pinch, pinch. Still want 0% body fat. I'm still jealous of ultra-muscular yet superskinny physiques like those of marathoners and ballet dancers.
I've never stopped weighing myself, and I've discovered that while not deliberately trying to lose weight, when I do lose a few pounds I want to maintain that lower weight. And that lower weight pleases me a little too much.
When I am busy I don't remember to eat. And I am very busy. Is this business a way to avoid eating? I can seldom rely on hunger cues; I rely on light-headedness and confusion to tell me when to eat and that is not normal, nor did that actually ever normalize. My meals and portions were chosen for me (it's called "mechanical eating") even during the last week of treatment. I never learned "intuitive eating;" I usually just have a routine of eating a certain amount at a certain time whether I think I'm hungry or not. And now with my schedule having gotten so full, I have less opportunities to establish such a routine. I eat lot of fruit and candy and protein powder, so I get a lot of calories, but that is not the "normal" behavior I strive for.
My exercise habits are a source of pride considering where I came from, but although I exercise far far less and don't exercise when injured or ill, I am still compulsive and I do overdo sometimes. I try and ease up when I feel the symptoms of overtraining and I have a variety of activities I do so I don't get OCD about things like mileage and intensity of training, however I feel really guilty and fat when I think about how little I exercise compared to what I did even a year ago (I struggled with the exercise part of the equation until around 9 months ago when I got very ill, lost too much weight, and had to stop for a few weeks. This interrupted the cycle and it had never gotten as out of control since). The interruption of exercise in the hospital surprisingly didn't help once I got out--I increased from 0 hours of exercise a day while monitored 24 hours a day to 3 hours a day within a week :( I currently exercise 1hr-2hrs a day, sometimes a bit more, but I generally average 2 hrs. This sounds like a lot, but most of it is moderate exercise. I count stretching and walking, and I used to not count moderate exercise in my totals. Therefore, if I walked three hours, biked 2.5 hours, ran 1 hour, I'd only count 3.5 hours of exercise.
I have started to think I really don't need to be in therapy anymore--I've cancelled several appointments in a row and say to myself it is because I'm too busy--but just 5 months ago, I would request time off from work to keep my appointments. I could still do this, but I don't. Running away from the fear that I'm relapsing? Maybe. I hate disappointing people and I always feel I've disappointed people when my eating disorder is worse. On the plus side, I'm writing this down and acknowledging it. I even said as much to my ED group therapist, explaining that because of work, I needed to come in less frequently. Then I said if it wasn't ok, I could just not come. She said she'd try to work something out and I mentioned that I did feel I benefited from the group, particularly because I felt guilty when I wasn't doing everyting I was supposed to have done. That day, I'd exercised a lot and had eaten maybe 300 cals, which is unacceptable. I felt dizzy in group and could barely concentrate. I hadn't planned on mentioning this, either, but I'm glad I did. If I hadn't, I likely would have thought I'd gotten away with something and that it was ok to repeat this the next day and thereafter. Because I admitted this out loud to someone, I felt like I needed to change the pattern immediatly. The next day, I more than doubled the previous day's intake and cut back on the exercise. That was incredibly hard. I felt so fat and lazy. But I know it was the right thing to do.
This was a super-long post, but I needed to write all this down because I have a hard week ahead with a lot of room for slipping. I'm working 53 hrs from Monday to Saturday and I have classes with tons of papers and assignments due, plus a birthday shindig to attend. Yikes!
My thoughts and prayers are with all of you fighting to beat an eating disorder. Please take care of yourself and give yourself credit for the progress you've made and don't beat yourself up if you are struggling. If you hate your anorexia, that is progress. If you've gained a pound and kept it on, that's progress. If you've had an opportunity to purge and didn't, that is progress. Focus on these steps toward recovery and admit your struggles to someone who cares about you.
Until next time, love yourself!
Saturday, September 20, 2008
What is this blog about?
I plan to use this blog as a tool in my recovery and I hope others can glean something of value for it. First of all, I'm not going to talk about much other than my eating disorder past and present--I want this blog to be the only time (other than in my therapy sessions) that I ruminate or obsess about this. I know this is always going to be a part of who I've been and a part of who I've been, but I don't let it define me. Please don't let the eating-disorder centric nature of the blog deceive you! I do not think about eating disorders all the time; I have a full life right now. I want to work out the kinks in my thoughts and actions, to be public about it because I'm currently very private and secretive (and yes, I often lie) about my behavior. But I won't lie here. I'm holding myself accountable here and hopefully I will be able to stop some negative trends.
Even though this blog is mostly for me, I welcome anyone to post comments (nothing hurtful, please) and to ask questions and I will try to help as much as I can. I'm a veteran of this war!
Even though this blog is mostly for me, I welcome anyone to post comments (nothing hurtful, please) and to ask questions and I will try to help as much as I can. I'm a veteran of this war!
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