Shake The Dust Off

It’s a wonder I haven’t given up entirely by now. I did give up for a time but clung to the hope that I might find the strength to start again. This time, I wasn’t sure how far down I’d go before beginning the climb.

It’s been over a year. To be exact, it’s been one year, three months, and four days since I’ve posted here. Feeling a little relieved to finally face the funk.

Before my untimely hiatus, I was close to being at the top of my weight loss game, eating healthier, fewer binges, and stress levels lessoning. Despite my progress, I still felt the pang of slipping, even after finding out I’d gotten down to my pre-pregnancy weight. I hadn’t seen that number for almost 20 years.

The struggle was getting to me, as evidenced in my last few posts. I thought I’d find an opportunity to write more. I suppose I had the time but lost the inclination.

Fast forward. It’s time for my annual well check. I call to make an appointment later in the week. Still struggling with exercising regularly, but reveling in my unexpected success. I practically skipped into the doctor’s office and leaped onto the scale. Then I did what I call the skidally wop, which is my happy dance, into the examination room. Weight’s good…check, vitals good…check, standard tests done…check. I sit with perfect posture, grinning so hard my eyes squint. I wait patiently for the doctor to enter and render her accolade for my outstanding accomplishment.

Dr. Dash (not her real name) enters the room. She smiles a big smile and proceeds to give me what I’m waiting for. Happiness, happiness, happiness! And then…

A knock and the nurse enters the room. She blurts out a number, smiles, and leaves. Dr. Dash turns to me and sais, “Well, it looks like you’re diabetic.” What?! I’m confused. I’ve lost tons of weight, cut out bread, pasta, rice, wine and, processed sugars (with exception to the occasional binge). I drink nothing but water, exercise almost daily, and I’m at a weight I haven’t seen in 20 years. How is this possible?! Dr. Dash scrolls through my chart and reveals that my past glucose levels were perfect. She writes a prescription and with a stern voice, encourages me to take the medication. I’m at a loss. This can not be happening. Damn!

Already on a slippery slope and now this. I may never regain my composure. My mind shut down, and I began to sink into a pit of despair and denial. I tried taking the new medication for a couple weeks before finally giving up. Screw it. I’d had enough. Let the binge-fest begin! I ate my way through last year, but not like the past. Instead, when I went out, every time I went out, I’d enjoy treating myself to something small like an ice cream cone and a 4 or 10 piece nugget, sometimes medium fries, and water. If I went the sweet route, I’d limit myself to only 2 or 3 of the item of choice. Not too bad, except I stopped exercising altogether.

So here I am, shaking the dust off and starting up once again. I gained a few pounds. The good news, I didn’t gain back as much as I thought. I started exercising about 3 months ago. Not an easy feat after a year off. I no longer purchase treats when I go out. I’m taking it slow. Slow and steady wins the race. I’ve only had one small binge in the last 3 months. I ate 4 packs of peanut butter nabs, a roll of fruit-flavored mentos, and a piece of smoked turkey sausage. It’s not so easy to binge when the result of my shame is readily available by way of glucose levels.

Though I ignored my health for a year. I’ve managed to work my way towards having healthier glucose levels in a relatively short period. I have a doctor’s appointment next week, and I’m looking forward to having a lower A1C. I’m feeling confident about making progress with weight too. It won’t take me long to cross over the threshold again.
 

Onward and Upward!

Damn!

I can’t tell if I’m struggling more this year than other years or if it just feels like it.

Hi, it’s been a couple of months since I’ve written here. There has been a fair share of ups and downs on this leg of my recovery journey as well as with my son’s health. He’s getting over a very bad asthma episode. It was the first time he’s ever gone to the emergency room due to asthma. The more I pray and work to find ways to combat his illnesses the more they seem to persist. Doctors aren’t much help. He’s doing better so far. I pray he continues doing well.  

It wasn’t that long ago I came down from a period of binge eating. I haven’t yet stabilized completely. My eating has improved over the past couple months. Me exercising is another matter. I’ve made attempts to exercise more. To be completely honest I’m exhausted. In March I had what seemed like month-long anxiety attach. It happened in waves. I started feeling better April and May. Binge eating stopped as I turned my focus toward much more rewarding subjects like creativity which I’ve had abundantly lately. I’m not mad about that. There were days I had to pull in the reins so not to lose focus on projects I needed to get done. I’ve also done well to stay away from donuts which can be an intense trigger for me.

Am I back on the right road to recovery. Not yet. Today I had a mini-binge after church. What was the trigger? Church. My church, in particular, is not a haven. I’m not sure why this is. Everyone else seems to be happy there. Maybe it’s me. I left with an old familiar feeling of being unloved and unwanted which lead to a deep heaviness in my heart that also translated to my limbs. I managed to pick-up something for lunch. When I returned home, I found my son taking a nap, so I sat at my computer and voraciously ate a few chicken legs, wings, and cheesy potatoes, after which I nodded a bit. When I woke up, I could barely move. My body was heavy as if weights were on me. It took every bit of energy I had to get lunch for my son. I had to lie down. I cried, asking God why am I so unlovable. TD Jakes was on my tables. I watched a couple of sermons and felt better.  At least I’m able to move around. I’ll try to get a few things done before I call it a night. In the meantime, I wanted to take a moment to share my thoughts with you.

Sorry I haven’t been around more. There are so many things I need and want to get done and do. Until I’m able to sort out my schedule, this is the best I can do. I’ll have more time to write this month and next. So I’ll take the opportunity to do so.

Going to get something else to eat. Onward but not upward for now. I have hope that tomorrow will be better.

Thank God It's Friday!

First of all, happy Friday to you all! I hope you are as happy to see the week’s end as I am. It’s been a doozy of a week for me. Glad to be able to get away from everything and just chill out for a couple days.

I faced two major triggers this week, one of which I did not see coming. So let’s start with Monday. I was scheduled to do a presentation that evening. Already a bit overwhelmed with everything I have to contend with this month, anxiety is triggered. I’m no stranger to anxiety, but it’s been a while since I’ve experienced it to this level. Usually, it comes and then it goes, so I’m not quite sure why I’m still struggling.

The wave of anxiety started around Thursday of last week. There were times when everything seemed like it was going to be okay and other times when I felt like I was on the verge of panic. I kept my schedule stress free for the weekend and managed to get myself to what I thought was a more comfortable place. Monday comes, all is well except for the low-level anxiety that is still present. I didn’t have time to give thought to my condition. It was all I could do to get ready and then I hear the weather forecast. There’s a strong chance of snow. I know…I know, what’s snow got to do with it? Well, it wouldn’t have much to do with anything if it weren’t for my anxiety deciding to invite PTSD to the party. Now I have to contend with even more negative thoughts compounded by front row tickets to worse case scenario theater and I’m the star. I begin to tremble.

I get in the car, put on a good CD. Snow is just starting to fall as I back out of the driveway. The weather’s not bad and I don’t have far to go. My anxiety seems to be leveling out. I call a friend, put her on speaker phone and partake in jovial conversation until I reach my destination. Okay, so far so good. The sidewalks are a bit slushy. I managed to get inside without slipping. That’s another thing. When I was much heavier, my worst nightmare was falling in public. I promised myself If I ever fell in public I’d just lie there pretending to pass out, hoping witnesses would feel a bit of compassion if they thought something was wrong. End of confession. On the elevator, I feel a rise in my anxiety and take a few deep breaths, thankful I arrived early so I could give myself time to calm down. Turns out that wasn’t a good idea after all. The person presenting before was beyond awesome. Her presentation was dynamic. Overall it was engaging, funny, impactful, insightful, and at times jaw-dropping. It was everything and a bag of chips with a drink on the side. Damn!

I’m thinking, why didn’t I stay home. As the presenter winds down my anxiety wound up and is set to go off. Panic in progress! It was too late to turn back. There’s nowhere to go but forward. So I did. A few minutes into my presentation I call it quits. This is the perfect calling card for a binge fest. Guess what – I didn’t binge.

I’m having a mental celebration of my triumph when the second trigger happens on Wednesday. This is the one I didn’t see coming. I was joking around with a few friends when one whispered something inappropriate in my ear. I was shocked, no, more like shook. I wasn’t able to respond as I should have. This is the very substance of the thing that causes me to gain and maintain an unhealthy weight. My weight was my badge of shame as well as a band-aid for pain. As long as I was heavier my dad didn’t rape me or sell me. As long as I was heavier I could go unnoticed, unwanted. I know this sounds like a bad thing to say and I apologize for that. Being heavy does not equate to being unattractive. What made me unattractive was letting go of everything and being my most possible worse. I told myself if anyone liked me in that state they were a true friend.

Have you ever been asked the question, “If you had a superpower which superpower would it be?” My answer was always to be invisible because I could not bear the thought of being seen. I’ve been fortunate enough to be aware of the severity of this feeling and have been working on getting better for some time. I have gotten better. I’ve finally worked my way to being a little comfortable with public speaking. I publicly share stories about my childhood and the things I’ve been blessed to learn and do toward having good mental health. Even with all the work I’ve put into this issue, I still sometimes fall into sabotage mode. Remember, I just got past my last bout with this problem a couple weeks ago.  

The fear of someone coming on to me whether serious or in jest all feel s the same. What made this situation worse is that he knew my history. He knew about the abuse.  I wasn’t able to respond the way I should have, which is not unusual for me in most situations. When he walked away, I just sat there wondering how something like this could have happened without me having the smallest inkling of the possibility. My head began to pound, my chest tightened. I wanted to run. I wanted to hide. I wanted to cry.

It is now Friday. I thank God for it being Friday. I survived two of my biggest triggers and am no worse for wear at the moment. Wow! Prayer is a mighty thing. I’ve been praying for God’s help with my fears, triggers, and weaknesses. He’s answering my prayers. This week I have not binged. My hope…to continue not binging.  Taking it one step at a time, one day at a time.

Onward and Upward!   

Thankful for the Slow Progress

I used to wonder why some of the people from the TV show The Biggest Loser struggled to maintain their weight loss. The first season winner claimed he celebrated his weight loss by eating a burger and fries. What could it hurt to have something he’d been craving for a few months? It seemed harmless enough until he found himself back at his original pre-show weight.  I read that a spin-off show, The Big Fat Truth was created inviting several winners from previous seasons of the original show to participate. I’m not sure how they thought a second show utilizing pretty much the same methods would help outside of losing the weight again. Did the creators of the show consider addressing what caused the participants to put on the weight other than “biological factors” and “bad behaviors?” This is a testament to the danger of shedding a lot of weight without addressing the root cause.  That being said, it’s obvious the creators of the show didn’t get it. Critics of The Big Fat Truth made this statement, “Roth's new show is another version of what they see as a dangerous approach to weight loss that favors quick results over science.”  I’m sure there are a great many people that can attest to the dangers of quick weight loss. I’ve certainly had my share of ups, downs, and merry-go-rounds. That’s why this time I’m taking it nice and slow.

I’ve been on my weight loss journey for several years, but that doesn’t mean I was always actively dieting and exercising. I knew from much trial and error that I needed to start my journey at the beginning, not the end. In other words, I didn’t need to focus on the current behaviors without revisiting my past taking a long, hard, honest look at the significance it had on my previous and current weight gain.

The first couple years I spent much time figuring out who I am outside of who I was created to be by my parents. There had to be more to me than being a product of abuse or victim of circumstance. I found that to be a great place to start with therapy. It wouldn’t be until after I started to figure out who I am and how to love myself that the weight would begin to shed. Slow and steady. The 3^rd and 4^th years my self-worth came up and I was able to enjoy doing good things for myself like being more consistent with exercising and eating better. There were many struggles and periods of uncertainty where I found it difficult to maintain good habits, but I didn’t give up and that’s what made the difference. That’s why I’m still in the game. In the distant past, I would have given up before completing year 1 and I would not have looked back until several years and a few health concerns later.

Now I’m looking at years 5 and 6. Year 7 will start this Fall. I’ve lost a significant amount of weight. There is still a ways to go, but I’m in no hurry. I am thankful for slow progress. I’ve finally crossed a threshold I haven’t seen since pregnancy. Are there still struggles? Yes. Slow progress allows me the time I need to face and confront my struggles head-on. There have been slips here and there. I’m struggling with fear and triggers as I move towards weights I haven’t seen since my 20s, but that’s okay. I’m praying for strength and wisdom.

My newest method for dealing with triggers is working. This past winter season I fell head-first into a binge frenzy that I could not work my way out of. While praying it came to me to stop focusing on losing weight. Make my focus on maintaining the progress I’ve made. This train of thought tricked my mind and kept me from getting majorly depressed while dealing with the binging. If I were still hyper-focused on losing weight, knowing that my behaviors were making me gain weight, I could have potentially spiraled out of control just on the guilt alone. But somehow thinking of maintaining my progress made the struggle a little less damning and I was able to think about my behaviors one day at a time, not focusing on any particular measure of loss or gain. I just focused on decreasing the binging as best I can for that one day. I did gain a few pounds, but have since turned the binging around and am losing those pounds again. No major setbacks, moving forward.  

Onward and Upward!

Gaining The Ability To See Progress And Still Be Okay

Hi there. How are you doing? Are you  having a good Summer so far? I can't complain. As a matter of fact I have quite a bit to be thankful for. I don't have any particular plans other than continuing to embrace the advocacy work that I've been doing for almost a year now. It's going very well. I'm meeting some really incredible people who are as passionate about advocacy as I am, if not more. New opportunities are opening up for me and my skill set in increasing by leaps and bounds. My son's health is better also. Food is not making him suffer. He enjoys the foods that I'm cooking and he's responding well to the medicines he's taking. We did go through a period where his seizures increased dramatically, landing us in the ER a few times. With many prayers and a few adjustments to medications he seems to be doing well.

It's been a long time since I've seen my son so happy, even though I've witnessed him smile through much of his pain for the past three years. It's different now. I can tell he feels much better. I sit here listening to his inaudible chatter and contagious laughter and smile to myself, taking mental note of my gratitude.

In my last post I wrote about becoming aware of my self-sabotaging mindset whenever I've managed to achieve a weight loss goal or an exercise goal or even an eating goal for that fact. I've been spending a lot of time praying about this thing, because I honestly didn't have a clue what to do about it. I needed answers to questions I could barely voice. I'm still seeking answers and while I'm seeking those answers I'm systematically compiling more questions. While all of this this is going on, I turn my attention towards the self I see in the mirror and I begin to see what looks like change. As I stare at my reflection I wonder if what I see is real.

Have you ever come to a point in a situation where you simply don't know which way to go? It doesn't matter how much you think about it, you still have no clue and as soon as frustration sets in, you shift gears and begin willing your thoughts to disappear. Before long you might find yourself in a vicious cycle of trying to overcome something that you don't know how to overcome and getting angrier by the moment because you can't to do this on you own.

Part of my Christian belief is that we as believers should not try to navigate life's trials and tribulations on our own. We are taught to rely on God, to seek Him in all that we do. Why is it so hard to put this into practice? The way I see it, it's because we are fixated on seeing self...not our whole self, just the parts we don't like. We read books on how to help self. We seek out inspirational speakers that say to us, rely on self...believe in self. As a matter of fact, since the beginning of our being we are conditioned to focus solely on self. Even much of our faith practice is focused on self, what we want from God...not what God wants from us. And if that isn't enough of a track towards narcissism we go one step further and expand our focus on how the world sees us and that image becomes the image we pay most attention to. We use the world as our mirror and almost always hate what we see. And so every thing we do, say, experience, and want is centered around the image of self that we want to portray to the world. We want to be better than what the world sais we are. Okay, so let me ask this... How can we Christians see God if all we see is the world's view of self? And how can we see God in ourselves if we don't like what self looks like? I'll even go one step further and ask, how do we learn to trust God and love Him with our whole heart if we don't think He made us right...if we think that God made a mistake when He made us? Have you ever thought about that and how that kind of thinking affects us on every level?

I'm starting to understand why there's such a profound level of negative self and body image. I don't know one other person that is happy with the way God made them...not one. And though I've never had an issue with the way God made me, I've spent the majority of my life loathing what life's circumstances created me to be...fat and afraid.

A couple weeks ago I was about to write a post on not being able to see change. I sat down, opened my blog and attempted to type out the first sentence. Something inside of me would not let me complete that sentence. I closed my blog and began working on something else. A few days past, random thoughts dashing across my mind. "Wonder why I can't see any change?" "Is it because I've been so heavy for so long that I'm not able to see myself any other way?" "Maybe I need to try wearing a smaller size." Of course, at that time I was afraid to try a smaller size. I didn't want to endure anticipation followed by the disappointment of a smaller size still being the too tight. Another thought crossed my mind, "Could it be that I'm not able to see progress for fear of sabotaging myself again?" That was it. It became clear to me that my inability to handle progress will always be a stronghold if I don't seek help from God, because I can't get past this on my own.

Sometimes when I ask God for answers He answers me right away. Other times, He takes me through a process...a journey. I've learned, when asking God to help me change something about myself, in order to achieving change it often requires a process. This time the process is to shift my focus from seeing the world view of self to seeing God's creation.

With the help of God I was able to spend the first year of my journey working towards better physical health by increasing awareness of my emotions and their link to my eating disorder. He also helped me find the courage to look in a mirror and see the image I'd been running from, because my image was everything the world considered wrong. I had to learn how to see my body, not as what the world sees, but as it was created by God and what He intended my body to be.

This is what the bible has to say about that. 1 Corinthians 3:16-17 Do you not know that you are a temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? If any man destroys the temple of God, God will destroy him, for the temple of God is holy, and that is what you are.

Now that I am learning to see myself in the light in which I am meant to be seen, I can better handle the progress I'm making and know that I'm going to be alright because the darkness of negative thoughts cannot penetrate the light of seeing myself through God's eyes.

Onward and Upward!

OMG! The Cravings Are Back!

I'm so glad to be home! Today was one of the most difficult craving days I've had in a long time. My son and I were out and about. As part of our new routine we ate before leaving the house. Until now it's been a tremendous help. I guess it could still be a tremendous help, it's just not feeling like a tremendous help right now.

Seems like everywhere we went there were rows and rows of fast food places. I can't avoid these places for the rest of my life. I really realized that today. The first part of the day was okay. Food did capture my attention, but I could redirect my thoughts fairly easy. Later in the evening proved to be something more arduous. Every fast food restaurant stood out as if flagging me down, excited to see me, willing me to enter their driveways. Vivid visions of fast food decadence flitted across my mind. I could almost smell the temptation. At one point I reached over to put my signal on to get over and make a stop. I had to tell myself, "NO! Just one more stop before dinner." I'd already planned to purchase dinner from one of our favorite spots as well deserved treat.

The very last stop was the grocery store. We practically ran through the store...picture that. Good thing I had my list. Today might have been the first time I actually followed my list to the letter. No time for extras...must get food and go home. I literally tossed the bags into the back seat, motioned for my son to park the cart and hopped in the car. With my hands gripping the steering wheel as if my life depended on it...and in a way it did...I focused all my energy on getting to the place I had in mind to purchase dinner and go straight home. The visions of various fast foods still dancing around my mind. I was determined to do what I'd set out to do.

Why the hell does it take so much effort to do right?

We made it home with groceries and dinner in tow. I did pretty good I think. Though not totally unscathed, I did shamelessly order an extra large fry and a cheerwine float with my dinner. Damn!

Onward and Upward...

Information: Eating Disorders in African American/Black/Ethnic Women and Men

Greeting everyone! I hope you are well. I wanted to share a few good articles and interview that I found targeting eating disorders in African American/Black/EthnicWomen and Men.
Guess Who's Coming to Dinner: Eating Disorders in African Americans

Women of Color & Eating Disorders

Neda - Feeding Hope
Please take a moment to scroll down to the bottom of the article, Neda - Feeding Hope, to listen to Joy Keys interview special guests Stephanie Covington Armstrong, author of "Not All Black Girls Know How to Eat: A Story of Bulimia," and former NEDA Director of Programs, Laurie Vanderboom as they discuss the struggles black women face when seeking help for an eating disorder.

If you have trouble accessing the link for Joy Keys interview here is the direct link African American Women and Eating Disorders

Here's more information on Stephanie Covington Armstrong's book, Not All Black Girls Know How to Eat: A Story of Bulimia.  Not All Black Girls Know How To Eat

Eating Disorders and Minorities

I hope these articles and interview will help many minority women and men realized that they are not suffering alone and these issues need to be talked about. Don't let anyone tell you that African American/Blacks/Ethnics do not have eating disorders. Keep seeking help and reaching out to others. Help will come and healing will begin.

Stay strong and don't give up.

December 8, 2014

Affirmation after affirmation and I'm still trying to feel better. Some days I feel so strong, but today I do not.

How am I supposed to look in the mirror and see beauty when I look in the faces of others and see disgust? Do I really see the disgust of others or am I seeing a reflection of my own.

Sometimes it's more than stress that sends me spiraling into binging. Sometimes it's the need to forget or escape things...a night of self-medicating. 

I tell myself that food will never hurt me, but it does and I let it. I'm just as accepting of the pain binging bring as I've been of abusive behaviors toward me. I take it all in thinking that taking it makes me stronger. I'm not getting stronger, I'm just becoming more numb.

For the past few nights I have giving into binging. I can't even say what is the reason. I couldn't stop...no matter what I tried. To be completely honest I didn't really try. I simply complied to it's wishes. I ate without measure and did not care. I slept with ease then woke to nausea. Typical scenario, only this time I didn't let it stop me from eating as I should. I hold up well in the light of day, but by night the urges return and I binge again. I've been cycling for the past 3 nights. Even if at that time I wanted to stop I knew I'd lose this fight.

Dear God, please help me get through tonight without binging. I feel the cravings so strong. I need the strength to fight the inner voice that constantly points out the wrongs.

It's 2:14am and I'm no where near sleep. Will I be more productive or will I just eat?

Perhaps another cup of tea or something to read to dull the negativity and the need...

GUILT and SHAME: How Abuse Distorts Perceptions

WARNING: This post may cause triggers. Sharing about self body image, psychological abuse and sexual abuse.

How many of us can recognize how our pasts effect our present and future? Not being able to see this connection is not as uncommon as you might think. As a matter of fact, it is more common that you could imagine. That is why I will periodically write about past events and explain how those events affect me today.

Eating disorders don't start out of the blue. They develop over time. For every addictive or hurtful behavior there is a root beginning. There is a point where things shift and move towards an unhealthy path. It is time to recognize those points of shifting, work through them and propel ourselves into a healthier direction.

I don't think that I've talked much about my feelings of guilt, shame or disgust. Though I do not feel at fault for what my parents have done to me, I do feel fault and guilty for what I've done to myself. I've also recently discovered that I feel fault and guilt about things my parents blamed me for especially if there was something I did want to do and I am told that something bad came of it...I believed it.

GUILT

When I was very young, about 6 or 7 we had this lovely dog named Brutus. Funny, I'm just now able to remember his name. He was a large brown boxer. My parents had just recently gotten him. I was a little afraid of him because he was so large, but I cared for him very much and wanted to bond with him. One day after finishing my school work I went out side to play with Brutus. He was lying beside the back porch. I called his name, but there was no response. I called is name again and still no response. Then I began screaming his name over and over again. I ran in the house still screaming and crying. My mom had her back to me. "He's dead...he's dead!" I guess my mom got tired of me screaming. She turned around and glared at me. "It's YOUR fault!", "It's YOUR fault that he's dead!", "YOU never wanted to feed him or clean up after him! I had to do it all!", "He died because YOU didn't want to take care of him!" Eyes stretched wide and completely silenced, I stopped crying. Was it really my fault? Did I kill Brutus?

To this day that moment still haunts me and yes, in a strange kind of way, I still feel guilt for Brutus' death. I feel guilt when I get a little angry with my son and just want him to go to another room and be quiet for awhile. It's not that I would have said anything. Usually it's just a passing thought. But there have been times when he's gotten sick after I had a thought like that and I wondered...was it my fault? Will God take him away from me because I wanted him to be quiet? It is truly unfortunate what I experienced that day so many years ago. And it is even more unfortunate that I am still affected by my mother's words.

Recently there has been another incident when I've felt profound guilt for something I ultimately had no control over. It was when my son had his bout with constipation. Even though his pediatrician said it was common, I still felt as thought I had done something wrong. I could not sleep for carrying the guilt. My guilt turned into anger. How dare my body work properly when my son's body cannot. The guilt was more than I could bare. I hated myself and I began starving myself again. I know this is extreme. I can't help how I felt. I believed bad things happen when you don't do things perfectly and being a less than perfect mother caused my son to get sick. This way of thinking is a product of the abuse that I endured. I realize that. Now I need to figure out how to combat those strong emotional responses to my past. How do I shake this?

SHAME

My parents were ashamed of me and I was ashamed for embarrassing them especially in public. I could always tell they felt this way. It was how their voices dropped when it came time to introduce me. "And this is my (pause) daughter." Not only did I not behave normally like other kids my age. I wasn't as attractive as my parents. They were picture perfect...on the outside... I felt like an alien, often wondering if they found me under a bush or perhaps someone left me on their doorstep. I would imagine a spaceship flying by and I haphazardly thrown from the ship landed in my parents yard. I can't ever remember feeling as thought I belonged. Oh well, they were stuck with me and I them.

I  about being fat and an eyesore...a disappointment. They would constantly point out all of my flaws and tried earnestly to figure out how to correct them. I lost the ability to see myself as worthy of being loved or worthy of anything. I lost the ability to see myself at all.

I never believe that I deserved how I was treated, but I didn't believe that I deserved to be treated any better either. I wasn't sure what better was anyway.

I still feel the shame for being fat and unattractive. And fat is still my safety net, never to worry about being touched again. Just thinking about it makes me want to scarf down a few oatmeal cream pies as I schlep around the house in old socks and loose clothing camouflaging my girth. It's not working. I tell myself that I dress this way because I want to be comfortable. Lie! I'm hiding...hiding in plain sight. If only I could implode and disappear.

Everyday is a struggle...going through life hoping no one sees me. I hate having to deal with the outside world, my tenants, especially. When I go to the properties, I feel like everyone is staring at me because I'm so fat and disgusting. Shame oozes out of my pores as I encounter each new person. There is silence and  Dear God, please make this go away. I am that same little girl walking down the street with her parents and feeling as though she is a complete outcast and does not belong. Only now I'm not with my parents, I'm with my son. My beautiful son, tall, handsome and well dressed. And here I am...well, I just am.

This reminds me of a book I once purchased for a friend, "When will I Be Good Enough: Healing the Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers." I should have kept that book for myself. I'm always stuck in between feeling or not feeling good enough to be my son's mom. Almost identical to feeling that I was not good enough to the daughter of my parents.

Are you starting to see the distinct patterns between past and present?

All I've ever wanted was to be loved and accepted. No matter how I look I would never be accepted or loved by my parents, many family members and past so called friends.

Fact: In the past, most of the people in my life were only in my life because they wanted or needed something. I am not mad at them. I only wish that I could have had a healthier relationship with them. I wish they could have seem more value in me as a person.

Now that I have been blessed with both love and acceptance from my son and a few friends, I still struggle with believing that it's real or perhaps I just don't know how to accept unconditional love, because it's not something that I'm familiar with.

I hope to become a healthier slimmer me without the fear. I don't know what it's going to take to get there, but as many of you already know, I am always searching for answers and solutions and I believe I will find those answers and solutions one day.  

A huge thank you to those of you who I've come to know and love. Thank you for your support, love and kindness and thank you most of all for your acceptance.

ED-NOS: Finally They Are Taking It Seriously (Possible triggers in this post)

For the longest time ED that were not specifically Anorexia or Bulimia were secondary at best. Well, in my opinion NES or what now falls under the ED-NOS diagnosis, was last on the list of EDs and not fully acknowledged as an ED. I don't mind being lumped under the ED-NOS umbrella as long as medical professional are taking all EDs seriously.

I came across a video of a news report about ED-NOS. It's the first report I've ever come across that acknowledges ED-NOS as a dangerous and potentially life threatening condition. 

Here's the video:

WARNING: This video may contain triggers for some of you. Please be mindful if you decide to watch.

ED-NOS: Most Dangerous, Unheard of Eating Disorder

April 18, 2014

It's Friday everyone! I'm so glad we made it to the weeks end. I've had a pretty good week and I hope the same for you.


Last time I posted, I shared concerns about my having strong cravings for sweets, late night. All has gone well with that. It seems once I recognized that I had a sweet option (pears in extra light syrup) everything was okay. Like a sedative, my mind instantly calmed and I did not have strong cravings that night or last night and I still have my pears. I guess that's what you call mind over matter.


As a whole, I think that I'm doing fairly well. I'm having some stressful issues, but not so bad that I'm messing up on day time eating.


Do holidays trigger you to eat differently? Fortunately for me, I don't engage in traditional holiday practice, so holidays rarely influence my eating. I just know not to allow free access to foods that may trigger binging.


For the last couple of days I've had eggs and cheese for breakfast, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch and for dinner, some form of chicken with brown rice or wheat pasta and veggies.


This weekend I'll be working more on my vision of self. I heard a saying from someone, can't remember who. They say if you can envision yourself smaller than you will get smaller. I doubt there's any merit to that. If there were, there would me more thin people in the world. Oh how I wish I cold think myself thin. Anyway, I'm wanting to try exercise again, so I will, but I won't make any promises to myself...not just yet.


I would really like your input on something. In many of my posts, I have noted what foods I've eaten for that day. I'm not sure if this is a good thing for you to read or not. On other sites, I notice that they ask people to be sensitive about what they post, especially numbers like weight and calories. I wont be posting any weights and I don't measure my food. That is a big no..no for me. Measuring and weighing foods will send me careening back into starvation mode. Anything resembling a diet is no good for me. My question to you is...does it bother you when I share what I've eaten that day or do you find it helpful to know or does it matter at all? Just wondering...


I'm not planning on posting this weekend.


Happy Easter! I hope you all have a safe and pleasant holiday weekend.

April 16, 2014

Today is Wednesday. I continue to feel empowered by my decision to create an eating schedule. It is working well for me. I won't say it's perfect, but I'm so much better than I was. I'm eating more regularly during the day, getting in 2 to three good meals a day. I'm eating actual meals and not just packs of crackers. Yes, I'm managing to eat eggs for breakfast, a sandwich for lunch and then dinner. Some days I even eaten a small snack early evening. That's quite a feat.


As usual, when I've started to conquer one area another area of weakness wants to appear. I've been having cravings for the past 3 nights. Not too bad the first night, but last night was a doozy. I roamed feverishly around the kitchen in search of something sweet. I couldn't find anything so I ate a small serving of a leftover rice dish. It wasn't what I wanted and my mind continued to roam. I went to my computer to surf Youtube for a while until I felt sleepy enough to go to bed.


I hope tonight will not be as bad as last night. I did manage to find a can of pears in extra light syrup and set them aside in case the urges get strong again. I fear they will be strong tonight. I'm craving right now and it's only 9:22pm. I'll probably spend more time at my computer tonight. Maybe eat the pears then, not right away. I'll surf the web for awhile and if I still feel the urge I'll get the pears. Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. 


The bouncing back and forth is to be expected, I guess, but I wasn't prepared for this. What can I say, I was too busy enjoying my new strength and feelings of empowerment...and I still am. It's just now the cravings are back and stronger than ever, even to the point of desperation. I'm holding on as best I can. Maybe it's a good thing that we are almost out of snacks...then again, maybe not. I'm supposed to go shopping this weekend. I'll really need strength then.


Onward and upward as I continue to hold on the faith as if my life depends on it...because it does. This is my life, I've got to make this right. Staying strong...

April 12, 2014

It’s Saturday afternoon. The weather is perfect, 80 degrees, blue skies and low humidity. I'm feeling pretty good today. I've been eating well over the past few days, sticking close to my eating schedule. I didn't eat breakfast today. Nothing's wrong, I woke up early waiting for the lawn people to come. While waiting I fell asleep and did not wake up again until after noon. I'm okay about that.


Lunch was eggs and cheese with a cup of water. Snack time was around 5pm. I ate a can of pears in extra light syrup. Dinner was a little late, right at 8pm. I ate a few pieces of smoked turkey sausage and a serving of steamed potatoes with onions and peas.


Yesterday, I stood in front of the hall mirror and took a good look at myself, a rare occurrence. My clothes looked loose on my body, but I'm still huge. I can't tell where any weight, if any, has been lost. Weight loss is not one of my current goals. Not just yet. I'm still trying to work out eating as I should during the day while keeping a close eye on night time eating behaviors. So far, so good. I could get on the scale, but I'm not quite ready for that. Maybe I should...then again maybe not...


If only it were as easy as just eating right or exercising enough or even having a healthy self-image, but it's not. There are too many layers. With every turn or epiphany there's another layer revealed. It's never ending. Am I frustrated? No, but I am intrigued. I think I'm starting to see why things of this nature can take so long and take so much effort. I never knew healing was so complex. However, on the other hand, I welcome the complexities because I'm learning a lot about myself, my abilities, and my strengths. I'm seeing my own process step-by-step as I write it out in this blog. My ability to reason things out is one of my strengths. It’s my most valuable coping mechanism aside from disassociation.


I'm thinking about doing a post on self-image. Inspiration comes from the video that I posted yesterday. I hope you guys enjoyed. I found it to be profound, a simple concept that changes lives…how ingenious. Believe it or not, I'm also still looking for inspiration as I begin working on my letter to self. One thing did come to mind. If I'm not yet able to communicate with the child self, perhaps I should approach communicating with my adult self, ultimately working my way back in time. That's doable. It will be easier this way, because I am learning to love and appreciate myself in the now so that I can feel love and compassion for myself in the past. Makes sense? Moving forward...


So what did you guys think about yesterday's post? I know it's an advertisement, but beyond that it was an inspired and inspirational concept. Seeing one's self as beautiful is simply a state of mind. Brilliant! If you did not take time to watch the video, please do and share it also. I think more women need to understand that we have to learn, even be inspired to see our own beauty. The beauty is there, even though we can't see it. Seeing our own beauty is not something that comes naturally, because we've more than likely not been around women who've projected healthy self-images. Most of our self-image issues are learned behavior. As you can see from the video, learned behavior can be undone, it's just a matter of how.


It's getting late and I'm going to watch a little tv. Tomorrow I'll continue working on my letter to self and processing my thoughts on self-image.

March 28, 2014

I'm loving how my study on commitment is making me feel. There is new vision and new direction before me...a hurdle crossed. But just because the hurdle is behind me doesn't mean that I've conquered the task. Not just yet. It means that the problem has been identified and solutions are being put in place.


I've always looked at problems as an invitation to meet solutions. We would never know or need solutions if we never had problems. It's a mirrored situation. Some may even say they would prefer not to have problems. If we never had problems or hardships how would be able to fully appreciate the good things in life. If everything was always good we could potentially become board with our existence or at best live completely benign lives like mindless drones. Imagine that...


Inhale and exhale... I'm breathing in fresh air. Taking it all deep inside. Do you think things like commitment are talked about in therapy? I'd certainly hope so. I know that I'll be bringing it up in my therapy session, but I still wonder if this is something therapists would put on the table if the client doesn't mention it themselves. Would it be part of the therapeutic scope? I don't know. That's something to consider if you have a therapist. It might be interesting to talk this out with them.


I kept my word. There is a little sign taped to my bathroom mirror, "When I say I love you, I mean that I'm committed to working to love you even when it's hard." I continue to say these words to myself over and over again. It feels strange saying it, but it also feels like I'm on the right path. No need to rush, it's going to take more than a couple nights to learn how to love myself. Commitment requires patience. I will have to be patient with myself or else I'll get frustrated and give up again. Don't want to do that...


I'm committed to working on opening up my heart to myself, my current self and the wounded little girl inside. Several months ago, I talked to my therapist about this. We both agreed that writing a letter to the little girl inside would be a good thing. I want to get to know her, embrace her and tell her she is loved and everything is going to be okay. I've since lost the courage to attempt this encounter, that is until recently. I didn't realize that I could not tell her I loved her because I did not love myself. I may not be there yet, but I want to be. I want to love my whole self and that is something I have the courage to say to the little girl inside.


When I came up with the plan was to write a letter to myself, I wasn't sure what I would say. Now, I have an idea, an actual direction. It took months of working on myself before I could come to this point. So I'll start off by introducing myself to her and go from there. I have no idea what will be said after that. I might even surprise myself. I think this is something I should work on this weekend. Not sure If I'll publish my letter or not. It all depends...on what...I don't know.


Have any of you ever thought of writing a letter to yourselves? It may seem a little strange, but it's no stranger than talking to yourself when you are trying to cope with a situation or trying to sort something out. Actually, a letter to yourself would be more intimate. I think having an intimate existence with yourself is the way to learn to love yourself. Isn't it easier to love that which you feel an intimate connection to. I don't mean anything sexual. What I'm talking about is being personal, relevant, attached to yourself as you would be in other relationships. It's so easy to look at outer relationships and completely neglect having a relationship with ourselves. Isn't it important to be able to embrace ourselves? I think so.


This is the year of courage. Today I will have the courage to reach out to myself in an intimate way so that I may feel love for myself and be committed to myself with my whole heart.


I didn't eat breakfast today. No...it's not good, but it's okay. I'm not feeling sad, but exhilarated. Exited to have new direction and more hope. Exited about my new understanding of commitment and the endless possibilities. Yes...it is happiness even elation that I feel. I ate a pack of cheese crackers while writing this post. It was after 2pm. I've also eaten scrambled eggs and two slices of toast with a cup of water. For dinner I will cook seared chicken breast, mixed veggies and mac-n-cheese.


Last night I did not have a pre-measured snack because I did not cook. I was worried that I might be triggered to binge. I was not. Instead when the hunger came I ate a pack of Nekot cookies and was satisfied. I went to sleep shortly afterwards and woke up this morning feeling change. I hope it lasts.

Depth of Commitment - March 27, 2014

As I continue seeking and searching self to determine what commitment means to me I find that commitment is much deeper and more profound than I ever thought. It has it's own diversities and comes in layers. Layers that can work in harmony or work against each other. Even though commitment can be a strong emotion on it's own, it can also be easily lost amidst other emotions.


Let's look at the differences between being committed to being healthier as opposed to being committed to doing the things it takes to be healthier or vice versa and the importance of having balance between the two. It is extremely important to have balance between all layers of commitment.


Within myself I've identified several layers of commitment. Overall commitment to being healthier and individual commitment to each task that it takes to achieve a healthier relationship with myself and food. These commitments combined become a tightly woven thread. If there are any weaknesses in the thread of commitment, the thread will soon break. It is vital for me to examine tasks or goals that I set for yourself to determine how much of a commitment I'm taking on. There may be instances when tasks and goals may need to be modified in order to have a level of commitment that is comfortable for me.


I recognize that I am not strong enough to take on too many commitments. It is established that my strongest commitments are wanting to be healthier and trying to be healthier. Improvements have been made, but I keep back sliding. Some of it is natural and a good portion of it is because something is blocking me from trying harder to succeed. What's blocking me?


I ask myself questions. In order for this step to work I will have to be completely honest with myself.


1. Is it important to me that I eat right?   Yes.
2. Have I achieved a healthier relationship with food?  No, not yet.
3. Am I committed to eating healthier?  Yes.
4. Have I been successful in consistently eating healthier?   No.
5. What's stopping me?  I do not have hunger sensations as I should during the day. I do, but only if I begin eating at certain times. Even though I know this, I still do not push myself to eat at those times. I'll do well for awhile and then I fall back into old habits as I have done today and the past several days.
6. Are you committed to eating at a healthier time? I am committed to trying to eat at a healthier time, but it is also very easy to ignore myself when I tell myself I should eat. It' way too easy to ignore. Eating is not that much of a priority for me on most days even though it makes me feel good when I do better on other days.


Stop right here! Time to assess why eating is not important even though I have committed to trying to eat at a healthier time. I'm committed to trying, but not being consistent with pushing myself when it becomes difficult. This is the reason I keep falling into the circle of failure, because I am committed to the cause, but not committed to the task.


What does it take to become committed to the task? I imagine it would be having the ability to make a commitment to myself first and not just being committed to wanting to change something about myself.


Do you remember the definition of commitment from the Urban Dictionary? Here it is again. Pay close attention to the bolded sentence at the end. I'm going stand in front of a mirror and say those words to myself, because I find no other words to be truer then that sentence when it comes to commitment and I want to be true to myself...committed to myself.


1.

commitment

Commitment is what
Transforms the promise into reality.
It is the words that speak
Boldly of your intentions.
And the actions which speak
Louder than the words.
It is making the time
When there is none.
Coming through time
After time after time,
Year after year after year.
Commitment is the stuff
Character is made of;
The power to change
The face of things.
It is the daily triumph
Of integrity over skepticism.

When I say I love you, I mean that I'm committed to working to love you even when it's hard.

by Ashbash January 13, 2005

This very sentence is exactly what I need to be saying to myself everyday. As a matter of fact, I'm going to print it out and tape it to my bathroom mirror, which is one of the few mirrors I'm willing to see myself in. Loving myself is one of the hardest accomplishments to achieve, but I am going to commit myself to working to love myself even when it's hard. Right now it's hard to love myself all the time. My hope is that is will get easier.

In everything that I have ever been committed to I have succeeded in. I'm aware of this now. Never have I looked at commitment the way that I'm looking at it today. I've learned something else about myself. When I am committed, I am committed with my whole heart and I am not able to see failure. This is the key to winning my battles. I must first become committed to myself with my whole heart and then one by one I will be able to commit to everything else.


The day will come when I will not be afraid of failure, because I will not see failure.


Today I ate a pack of cheese and chive crackers with a cup of water. I began eating at 1:27pm. It is now 3:58pm. I will eat a small bowl of spaghetti left over from last night's dinner. I'm not sure what I will cook today. I just know for sure that I will not be ordering take out.

Happy Anniversary - March 25, 2014

February 25, 2014. One month ago today I was sitting at my computer feeling utterly defeated and lost. I wanted to write something...anything, but there was nothing. I'd run out of things to say. Opening all of my blogs, I wait...waited in silence for a pulse. Thoughts of events from past weeks, months and years streamed through my mind and still nothing. I thought, should I wipe the slate clean. Start over again. I've tried lending myself to the thought of waiting for direction, but direction never came...not really. With each post the strain to find the words or some measure of feeling increased. Desperate to reach others, I neglected to see that I had not reached myself. I'm still reaching... I closed all of the blogs accept the one called "Night Eating Syndrome." The last post was dated June 22, 2013.


A threshold of discovery was before me. I couldn't see it. Couldn't fathom it. Time stands still as I lift my hands and place them on the keyboard. Tears well in my eyes as I pray to God to let me feel something...see something...say something...tangible. And then there was a shift. I felt a lifting as if a lid opened slightly allowing a little part of me to escaped. Soon after, there was vision for a blog long since dead, now resuscitated. A new post ready to publish. The shift not yet complete. When something dies and is reborn it is no longer the same. It is renewed and therefore needs a new name, "Eating My Pain." Yes, that's what I've been doing all along. Thank you God!! Relief.


I realized I was ready. Finally ready to face the whole ugly truth behind my hurtful habits. I wanted nothing more than to let everything flow from the most honest part of my being. No matter what, I will speak my truth. I will write as if no one is reading. That is the promise I made to myself that day. And so I began. And here we are.


Today in honor of our first month anniversary, I am going to write a post by request. A dear friend suggested that I write about the things that I like about myself. This is no easy task. I was thrilled when I first read her request and then immediately went into panic. I rarely ever think about what I like about myself. In fact, after giving this request careful thought I still find it difficult to think about things I like about myself.


This year is the year of courage. I knew it before the new year came in. I am having to deal with obstacles from a deeper source. There's no more façade. All superficial layers have been pulled back, exposing mental and emotional scars. That being said,


The first thing that I will list that I like about myself is my God given ability to assess, process and build therapies and coping skills for all of my issues.


I like the unique way I think about things and how I am able to see literal truths even though truths are sometimes ugly.


I like the strength of my mind even though it has dimmed a little with age.


I like having regained my ability to express myself through poetry and other writings.


I like having an ability to tell stories and harness emotions in my drawings.


I like how I can create vivid life in grey scale.


I like having the gift of sight through many senses.


I've that I've just learned to like the sound of my own voice.


I like having locks and seeing how their growth depicts the past 8 years of my life, showing strengths and weaknesses and yet they are still beautiful.


I like that I am learning to like myself more.


I like that I am striving to have healthy honest relationships.


I like being able to be completely honest with myself.


I like who I am as a mom, friend, family member even though I am unfamiliar with the core of my being.


I like that I am learning to see myself through my own eyes and not the eyes of my tormentors.


I like being less afraid of the roadblocks that are part of my journey to freedom.


I like having a love of sharing information and learning.


I like the fact that I can think of things that I like about myself. Things that I've seldom put thought to.


Wow! I didn't think I would have this many things listed. Tonight as I sit quietly in my room, I will reflect on this post. I'll keep a notepad nearby in case other likes come to mind. This has been a very good exercise and a wonderful way to celebrate my commitment to writing this blog. Thank you again, my friend for your suggestion.


Today I did not eat breakfast. Lunch was at 12:37pm. I ate 3 leftover salmon fritters, two scrambled eggs with cheese and a cup of water. Tonight is burger night. I feel strong that I will not order extra food.


Many thanks to all of you for your support, kind words and wisdom. Thank you for inspiring me to dig deeper and thank you for allowing me to inspire you. Onward and Upward as we pick up the pieces one by one, together.

Proud Moment- March 21, 2014

Yep, I'm feeling a little proud of myself. Last night, I didn't feel like cooking dinner, so I asked my son what he wanted to eat. I started asking when we were out and about. I was hopeful that he'd want a burger or something else equally as quick. The answer was no. Fine. We went home. I wanted for about an hour and asked my son again what he wanted for dinner. We finally settled on pizza. I've gotten a little bit better about ordering pizza, being mindful not to order too much. Having a lot of leftovers can trigger a binge. I usually order pizza and wings. Last night wanted to try a sandwich instead. So I ordered a medium pizza, 1/2 pepperoni, the other 1/2 cheese and a Mediterranean veggie sandwich.  I came very close to ordering the wings, but managed to stop myself. If I had the wings, I would be at risk of wanting to eat them as well.

Pizza is one of those things that I should not order or only order on rare occasions. I'm getting better about that too. Foods that are very high in carbs are the worst thing to have lying around the house. We have a few leftovers. I had two slices of cheese pizza for my late night snack. Not the healthiest choice, but available and I still did not binge.


It's isn't easy always making the right choices. I try not to beat myself up about it. If I did it would only lead me to feel worse and eat more. If I'm going to give in to food that can be a potential trigger, the best thing is to be mindful of how much food I order. Fight the temptation to hoard food. That's when extra food is ordered for late night feed. Watch intake portions. Try to freeze or put away leftovers as soon as possible. If I leave food out too long the possibility of my eating it increases. Having it out of site helps, but I would still need to set aside another late snack if I want to avoid eating high starch/carb foods late night.


Okay, so I didn't do so great with my choices tonight, but I did do well with not ordering extra food and not over eating late night. Still more baby steps.

March 20, 2014

Went out the other day to purchase more crackers and egg product. I have to buy these items in bulk because I eat them almost every day. Since paying close attention to my NES I've discovered that eating comes easier if I don't have to think about it much. I don't mind tussling with the million dollar question, "What's for dinner?", that's about as much thought as I can give for food preparation. My son, he's pretty easy. He likes to start his day with waffles or another favored freezer food. Sometimes he'll branch out and ask for eggs. Frittata served with crustless quiche is one of his favorite outside-of-the-box breakfasts. When dinner time rolls around there are high expectations. That is when we are most creative with food intake. Dinner time is when I can introduce new foods to my son and get a significant amount of veggies in him. I can't tell you how many parents have told me over the years how they wish they could get their kids to eat the veggies my son eats. So far is likes brussel sprouts, red potatoes, carrots, greens, spinach, squash, sweet potatoes, green beans, okra, mixed veggies, broccoli and asparagus. He will eat corn, but only appreciates it in a corn pudding. All of which were introduced during dinner. Dinner is the meal that is supposed to have several complex components. At least, that the way my son sees, so I take full advantage of his thought process. Otherwise it's the same old thing...which works for us.


We are coming up on our first anniversary. At risk of sounding sappy, I've just taken notice that I've been blogging consistently for almost one full month. March 25th will be our first month anniversary. I don't know if I'll be in the mindset to do anything particularly special that day. I hope so. I would love to show you all how much I appreciate you being here with me day after day. Reading my ramblings and sharing your comments. It means the world to me knowing I'm not alone. Thank you all so much for hanging in there with me so far. Hugs to you :-) Maybe you can help me think of something special or tell me what you may want to read about on that day. Perhaps you would like to share more about yourself that day. We have a couple days to think about it. Please share your thoughts.


I'm feeling a little better than yesterday. Not quite 100%. I think I am coming down with my son's cold, that's okay. As long as he's getting better I'll be alright. I'd love to make a pot of soup today, but my son hates soup. Soup represents sickness and he's not claiming to be that sick. Perhaps I will do a crustless pot pie kind of thing. We eat a lot of chicken. Maybe I'll cook a few fish.


A couple days ago I was really struggling with meal planning. I lucked up, because my son was not feeling well and didn't want too much to eat. He was happy with a simple chickenish dish or a sandwich. That's pretty much what I ate also. Last night he asked that I cook, so I did. We had a deconstructed chicken soup with turkey ham. I had all the components of a simple chicken and rice soup without the broth and I added chunks of turkey ham to make it a little different. He liked it. I enjoyed it as well. For the past couple days eating has been rudimentary at best. It was nice to enjoy eating a meal again.


Today around noon I had a pack of peanut butter crackers and water. I will try to eat lunch in the next hour or so. It will be eggs and cheese with toast and perhaps hot tea. Crustless chicken pot pie may be a little to much like what we've already had, so I'll continue sorting dinner out ad the day goes. Last night for my late snack I had the last serving of the deconstructed chicken soup with turkey ham. I enjoyed just as much the second time as I did the first. I did not crave to feed beyond my snack.

March 17, 2014

Feeling a lot of self doubt today. I think it's mostly related to stress and feeling defeated about some situations that occurred recently. I'm experiencing heavy conflicting emotions right now. This only feeds into the anxiety that's been brewing for the past few days. Today it all comes full circle. Just like it did last Monday. I see things building up. Bills needing to be paid, money's slow to come. My life is filled with so many responsibilities, more than I've ever had. Don't get me wrong, I've had my issues, even when my life was neat and well contained, but there was balance. A wave of issues would come and then peace is regained. It's not like that these days. A wave of issues comes and I may get a couple days relief before another wave crashes into me. It's no wonder that I'm experiencing so many ups and downs with all that goes in my day to day. No day is predictable. This may not seem like much to some, but it's massive to me. I need some sense of predictability.


Everything falls on my shoulders. Everyone looks to me to take care of everything. There's never any break from it. Just when I think I can breath another series of unfortunate events take place. I'm being bitter right now. It's just how I feel in this moment. These feelings will dissipate and I will once again put on my game face and face the music.


They say stress kills. I guess I've been blessed. I've been under insurmountable stress most of my life and I'm still here. Worn down and battered. There's not much left...only hope. Hope that one day life will be better. Hope for peace of mind, body and spirit. Hope to escape the horrors of my past. Hope to become healthier in my practices and my thinking. Hope...I have hope for so many things. One day all good things will come to pass. My work will not be in vein.


Today was an okay eating day. I ate a pack of peanut butter crackers around noon. For lunch I had two turkey ham and cheese sandwiches. I did not eat dinner and my snack was a large serving of funions. My mind started roaming around the kitchen, looking for the next item to eat. I fought the urge. Exhaustion's settling in. Time for bed.

March 16, 2014

I was just thinking about today being Sunday and how I always get a little agitated about the weeks end coming to a close. It's almost like losing a protective covering, leaving me completely exposed to whatever comes in the days during the week and once again I wait for the protection of the weeks end to come.


There was a time, not so very long ago when I felt the exact opposite of what I feel today. It was during the time my parents were alive. Home was never a safe haven, not even as an adult. It was just a place to store my stuff and to lay my head when I had nowhere else to go. I relished the weekdays because I could escape into work which was and has been my safe place. Work is where I first received positive validation...positive anything for that matter. At work I was valued. I didn't have to worry about being perfect even though I'd strive to be. There was never any screaming or beatings at work. I was free to be who I am or who I thought I was...for the most part.


Weekends and holidays were a great source of stress. The stress became even greater when I moved away from home. The expectation was to visit with my parents every weekend. Saturdays were fine, but Sundays were preferred. Dad worked on Saturdays. On Sundays I would be tortured by both instead of just the one. I guess I've always been a source of entertainment for my parents, in the most manipulative, horrid kind of way. My mom, who is the main catalyst for weekend visits, would never sit still. No matter what, we could never have a decent conversation or simply sit in the same room. She was always on the move. Always working like a slave cleaning a house that was never dirty. I guess it didn't matter she never had the time or inclination to have a real visit with me. My purpose...to show her continued absolute control. I was still her obedient pet. When she called, I came.


Holidays were the worst. Again my mother would blow her proverbial whistle and there I'd sit by her side like a wasted appendage. I was a source of shame for them, unattractive, useless but still obedient. Her request for my presence simply rolls of her tongue. Never a consideration that I might want to do something else for the holiday. It didn't matter that I spent the entire day vomiting and crying before pulling the pieces together. Once again preparing for hell.


We'd always have dinner together, dad controlled the mealtimes. Even on the rare occasion family members were invited. Every time, like clock work, dad would wait unit mom was ready to serve dinner, then he'd announce that he had to go to his barber shop for something. He'd make all of us wait for hours before returning home. Not one morsel was to be consume until he returned, less there be hell to pay behind closed doors.


We ate the same meal holiday after holiday. Usually there would be silence at the table unless dad wanted to engage in negative gossip about someone. Mom sat in silence waiting for endless accolades about her meal.


After my divorce, mom always insisted that my son and I pack up and spend Christmas Eve night with them. Dear God, why?! If I were to say no...then most assuredly I need be prepared for the emotional gouging of the century. I gave up and gave in.


If thou hath dwelt in the belly of hell then let thy hell be brief.


Here we go again. I packed a bag, put my son in the car and headed out for my parent's house. It was late. Mom was overjoyed. Christmas carols playing, lights twinkling, cakes and pies baking.


Hell doth hath a sweet stench.


I prepared the pull out sofa in the family room and got my son ready for bed. He enjoyed running around from room to room and watching the lights on the tree. Dad would be in his room as usual, far away from anything resembling a family moment. I'd offer to help, but there was no need. I could never do anything right anyway, so I sat and offered idol chit chat.


Later that evening mom decided to sit in the family room with me and my sleeping child. My son and I are both heat sensitive and needed the room to be cool. Mom didn't mind much...I guess, she wrapped a blanket around herself and started a conversation. Soon dad walks in, asks mom is she's cold and proceeds to turn the heat up. I kindly asked that he not do that because my son and I could get sick. Dad in a fit of rage, begins the scream our being in HIS house and HIS wife being cold. He storms out of the family room leaving the heat on high. Mom turns to me and says, "You'll need to apologize to your dad." I'm not surprised. I apologized, for what I'm not sure, I just did. All was well, order and control once again regained. I'm done. This will never happen to me again.


The next day I announced to mom that I will never spend another Christmas Eve with them. From then on only on Christmas day and only because she insisted. Stunned, mom looks at me. I can see the wonder in her eyes. Did she already forget about last night? Oh, that's right. My feelings don't matter. I'm only to follow protocol. Needless to say, I found the courage never to put myself or my son in that position again. If only I could have always been so brave.


Today I ate breakfast at 8:57am. It was the usual. Lunch was around 3pm. I had 3 scrambled eggs, 2 pieces of cheese toast and water. For Dinner we had baked chicken breast, spinach casserole and baked corn pudding.


Last night I eat my cake with a scoop of frozen greek yogurt, vanilla. It was not as good as I imagined. I didn't enjoyed it, but I ate it anyway. There were no urges to continue feeding. Next time, I think I'll do without the cake all together...hopefully.