So, I just got back from a much-needed week long vacation. The trip was GREAT, but honestly, I'm glad to be home.
Yes, I failed that class.
Yes, I have to show up to the first session of the class I want to take next quarter and beg the prof to sign me in.
A little sneak peak at a longer post tomorrow...
My birthday is coming up. It is a big one. Some rules need to be established.
I need to get my shit together for school. Details on my fuckery and plan to fix it.
I have some medical problems that need attention. C'mon, I know you want to know more about my boring personal shit.
In closure, I went grocery shopping today because there is nothing fresh in your house when you get home after a week away. No, I didn't have a bunch of nasty stuff, I got rid of everything before we left. I had to go alone because DH was dealing with some branches that had fallen in the front yard (crazy storms here this week). My normal store recently closed, so I have been trying out new ones to see where I like going. The place I went was super awful, confusing and noisy and surly staff and generally stressful. Grocery shopping is a high-risk activity for me anyway, so...
I binged between one store (the one I go to for fresh stuff) and another (the one I go to for certain odd-ball staples that we like). The tally?
2 Dove chocolate bars
2 Starbucks apple fritters
2 Starbucks mini birthday cake donuts
1 Starbucks chocolate mini donut
1 McDonald's double filet-o-fish sandwich
Lots of diet coke to wash it all down (Seriously? Why diet coke with a binge? I guess that's why they call it a disorder, because it doesn't make sense.)
The outcome?
Hehe, outcome. See, that's funny because it came out. Nothing like yakking in a public restroom. I figured that if anyone asked if I was ok, I could lie and say it was morning sickness. 'Cuz nobody questions pregnant ladies. Oh, and then, since I felt pressed for time in the Trader Joe's bathroom and couldn't finish, I purged some more when I got home.
"Honey, would you go bring in the rest of the stuff in the car? I need to use the bathroom. Specifically, I need you to go outside for a minute so you won't hear me retching."
Quality.
In lighter news, I managed to eat more-or-less like a sane person on the trip. So that's good. I'm interested to weigh myself tomorrow morning and see how it compares to pre-trip weight. Also, after the snarf-and-barf, I went outside and walked for close to an hour. Lots of nice hills. So, all is not lost.
Talk to you tomorrow.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Decompression
Another blogger (Ana's Girl, ""Accepting Ana") recently wrote a post about why she feels she has an eating disorder. It was written largely in response to a passage from Marya Horbacher's Wasted.
Jo (her first name) got a sense of control from rejecting food. When she was younger, her parents made all of her decisions and she felt she had no power. What she did or did not put into her mouth was something she did have power over. Now that she lives semi-autonomously with her fiance and his family, the thoughts and behaviors that she began several years ago have become habitual and provide a drug-like high. (Jo, please, feel free to respond in the comments if you feel I've gotten this wrong. I do not want to mis-quote you).
That's great. I totally understand. It is soul-satisfying to go to bed hungry, knowing I've stayed with my plan for the day. It makes my day to be at my hateful, awful job that I am absolutely stuck at until I finish college, politely turning down nasty cupcakes someone brought in while my boss licks crisco-rich frosting off the top of one. I can't be the person I always thought I would be, I am stuck in this stultifying, awful life, but at least I'm not eating the damned crappy cupcakes.
What Jo did not touch on, but Marya did, is the loss of control the disease brings. Really, being out of control, or unable to control one's self, is the central theme of Marya's book. I think about food all the time. What am I eating? What did I eat last? What will I eat next? I buy food. It takes me at least two hours and up to three grocery stores. My husband doesn't understand what is going on and he laughs when he watches me pick up something in the frozen section, put it back, pick it up again, examine the label, find something else, and put the original back again. Sometimes I am almost literally spinning in circles. If I am not thinking about consuming food, I am thinking about getting rid of it. I need to exercise, I need to purge. After two hours at the gym, I certainly haven't exercised enough, but I have to stop so I can go to work. I need to hide the wrappers from the things I binged on so that my husband doesn't worry, doesn't know what a disgusting pig I am.
I am not criticizing Jo's post. What I got from it was that she had a bit of an epiphany brought on by reading her feelings put into words by someone else. What I wanted to do was illustrate the part that gets a little lost in these blogs sometimes, that despite all of the "staying strong", this disease has the upper hand. I want there to be more to me than obsessing about food. I want to have more to offer than an encyclopedic knowledge of caloric contents. Yes, this started for me as a response to my chaotic relationships with my parents, but it has become something overwhelming.
Most of the time I feel like I am swimming just underneath the surface of a frozen lake. I pop my head out through a hole to breath for a month or two, and then I am trapped back under the ice. What happens if I run out of air?
Jo (her first name) got a sense of control from rejecting food. When she was younger, her parents made all of her decisions and she felt she had no power. What she did or did not put into her mouth was something she did have power over. Now that she lives semi-autonomously with her fiance and his family, the thoughts and behaviors that she began several years ago have become habitual and provide a drug-like high. (Jo, please, feel free to respond in the comments if you feel I've gotten this wrong. I do not want to mis-quote you).
That's great. I totally understand. It is soul-satisfying to go to bed hungry, knowing I've stayed with my plan for the day. It makes my day to be at my hateful, awful job that I am absolutely stuck at until I finish college, politely turning down nasty cupcakes someone brought in while my boss licks crisco-rich frosting off the top of one. I can't be the person I always thought I would be, I am stuck in this stultifying, awful life, but at least I'm not eating the damned crappy cupcakes.
What Jo did not touch on, but Marya did, is the loss of control the disease brings. Really, being out of control, or unable to control one's self, is the central theme of Marya's book. I think about food all the time. What am I eating? What did I eat last? What will I eat next? I buy food. It takes me at least two hours and up to three grocery stores. My husband doesn't understand what is going on and he laughs when he watches me pick up something in the frozen section, put it back, pick it up again, examine the label, find something else, and put the original back again. Sometimes I am almost literally spinning in circles. If I am not thinking about consuming food, I am thinking about getting rid of it. I need to exercise, I need to purge. After two hours at the gym, I certainly haven't exercised enough, but I have to stop so I can go to work. I need to hide the wrappers from the things I binged on so that my husband doesn't worry, doesn't know what a disgusting pig I am.
I am not criticizing Jo's post. What I got from it was that she had a bit of an epiphany brought on by reading her feelings put into words by someone else. What I wanted to do was illustrate the part that gets a little lost in these blogs sometimes, that despite all of the "staying strong", this disease has the upper hand. I want there to be more to me than obsessing about food. I want to have more to offer than an encyclopedic knowledge of caloric contents. Yes, this started for me as a response to my chaotic relationships with my parents, but it has become something overwhelming.
Most of the time I feel like I am swimming just underneath the surface of a frozen lake. I pop my head out through a hole to breath for a month or two, and then I am trapped back under the ice. What happens if I run out of air?
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Fuck Up
Well, I have decided not to go to my final. This is going to put me on academic probation at my school. It will delay my graduation, if I ever graduate, by at least a year. I am racking up thens of thousands of dollars in student debt and FLUNKING OUT OF SCHOOL because I simply cannot be bothered to attend. Oh, and my husband thinks I'm doing just fucking fine.
I wish I could cut myself. I can see it in my mind's eye, I can feel it in my heart. However, I cannot commit the act because he would see it, and then he would know how deeply fucked up I am.
Let's take an inventory.
1) I am lazy.
2) I am fat.
3) I am dirty.
4) I can't keep even the smallest commitments.
5) I can't manage money.
7,8,9,10) I HATE myself. I may be physically larger than most of you out there, but believe me that my self-loathing is proportional.
However, I did give myself a mani/pedi, so at least I have pretty nails.
I am going for a physical in two weeks and asking for a referral to a psychiatrist.
I wish I could cut myself. I can see it in my mind's eye, I can feel it in my heart. However, I cannot commit the act because he would see it, and then he would know how deeply fucked up I am.
Let's take an inventory.
1) I am lazy.
2) I am fat.
3) I am dirty.
4) I can't keep even the smallest commitments.
5) I can't manage money.
7,8,9,10) I HATE myself. I may be physically larger than most of you out there, but believe me that my self-loathing is proportional.
However, I did give myself a mani/pedi, so at least I have pretty nails.
I am going for a physical in two weeks and asking for a referral to a psychiatrist.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Pussy
Hey, guess what? Sugar binge+major purgathon+too many cigarettes+too much coffee+vigorous exercise=nearly passing out at the gym. Sigh. I feel like crap now.
In other news, I love it when my cat creeps into my lap slooooowly while avoiding eye contact. He's all "Nothing to see here, nope. I'm not sneaking up on you. Pay no attention to me." Then he lays down across my laptop and purrs like a lawnmower. That helps.
I need a shower now.
P.S. distortedperception, you now have a special place in my heart as my very first follower.
In other news, I love it when my cat creeps into my lap slooooowly while avoiding eye contact. He's all "Nothing to see here, nope. I'm not sneaking up on you. Pay no attention to me." Then he lays down across my laptop and purrs like a lawnmower. That helps.
I need a shower now.
P.S. distortedperception, you now have a special place in my heart as my very first follower.
Why Do I Love This?
So, today I got up. I made myself a nice breakfast and ate it. Then I ate a handful of chocolate covered almonds. After that, I made a family-sized batch of brownies in the microwave and ate about half of it.
Soon after I went into the bathroom and puked it all up. I know I got it "all" because I weighed less after barfing than I did when I got up this morning. I felt clean and empty and amazing.
Why do I love this? It's so sick. Sigh. Off to the gym to work out.
Soon after I went into the bathroom and puked it all up. I know I got it "all" because I weighed less after barfing than I did when I got up this morning. I felt clean and empty and amazing.
Why do I love this? It's so sick. Sigh. Off to the gym to work out.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
List Of Binge Foods
I have a nice long post for you today. (You who? No one has stumbled across this yet. I'm still ranting to myself, voiceless echoes in an empty canyon.) I thought I would write a little bit about bingeing. How do I binge? On what do I binge? What do I get out of a binge?
Binge foods are things that I rarely eat in moderation. If I have them around, I will eat them until they are gone. Rarely are they anything with significant nutritional value. I seek out sugar, salt, and fat. Anything of the golden-brown variety is especially enticing.
For me, the experience of binge eating is very much like how I've seen people describe cutting. Sometimes I don't like what I'm feeling, so I create this very intense experience with the food. I choose strongly flavored things and eat them to the point of physical pain. My stomach becomes so distended that all I can do is lay down. I cannot breath properly because my lungs are compressed. The food is both comfort and punishment. I give myself a "treat" to show myself love, to feel something pleasurable, and make myself ugly at the same time. If I am ugly, if I am in pain, no one can expect me to deal with life's little unpleasantries. I will be too busy dealing with the horrible bloat in my gut to do anything else.
Here is a list of twenty-five taste sensations to punish yourself with.
1) Ice cream
2) Cheese
3) M&Ms
4) Reese's cups
5) Pizza
6) Chinese food
7) Chocolate yogurt from Trader Joe's
8) Mochi
9) Ice cream sandwiches
10) Hot dogs
11) Tendercrisp sandwiches from Burger King
12) Filet-o-fish sandwiches from McDonald's
13) French fries
14) Crispy chicken club sandwiches from Wendy's
15) Bacon deluxe single sandwiches from Wendy's
16) Cookies from Potbelly
17) Pizza rolls
18) Long John Silver's
19) Frappucinos
20) Fried chicken
21) Brownies
22) Corn dogs
23) Tornadoes
24) Salami
25) Corn chips
Binge foods are things that I rarely eat in moderation. If I have them around, I will eat them until they are gone. Rarely are they anything with significant nutritional value. I seek out sugar, salt, and fat. Anything of the golden-brown variety is especially enticing.
For me, the experience of binge eating is very much like how I've seen people describe cutting. Sometimes I don't like what I'm feeling, so I create this very intense experience with the food. I choose strongly flavored things and eat them to the point of physical pain. My stomach becomes so distended that all I can do is lay down. I cannot breath properly because my lungs are compressed. The food is both comfort and punishment. I give myself a "treat" to show myself love, to feel something pleasurable, and make myself ugly at the same time. If I am ugly, if I am in pain, no one can expect me to deal with life's little unpleasantries. I will be too busy dealing with the horrible bloat in my gut to do anything else.
Here is a list of twenty-five taste sensations to punish yourself with.
1) Ice cream
2) Cheese
3) M&Ms
4) Reese's cups
5) Pizza
6) Chinese food
7) Chocolate yogurt from Trader Joe's
8) Mochi
9) Ice cream sandwiches
10) Hot dogs
11) Tendercrisp sandwiches from Burger King
12) Filet-o-fish sandwiches from McDonald's
13) French fries
14) Crispy chicken club sandwiches from Wendy's
15) Bacon deluxe single sandwiches from Wendy's
16) Cookies from Potbelly
17) Pizza rolls
18) Long John Silver's
19) Frappucinos
20) Fried chicken
21) Brownies
22) Corn dogs
23) Tornadoes
24) Salami
25) Corn chips
Hectic
I hate hectic days. There is nothing that will trigger my anxiety as quickly as being rushed. It always seems like I'll lose track of something, drop one of the balls I'm juggling, and then everything will fly apart at the seams.
Restricting a little more today. Having everything planned out is sooooo nice. Calories counted, food prepared and portion-packages. Called in late to work so that I can go to the gym. I HATE that I missed yesterday. I'm going to eat a lot of veggies and salads, so that should clear me out nicely.
*Later
Okay, so remember how I said hectic days trigger my anxiety? I didn't even make it through my shift at work (yes, this is after coming in late). I'm off for tomorrow. So I'll be broke, but relaxed. Oh well. I'm going to browse for new workout music and then hit my elliptical.
Restricting a little more today. Having everything planned out is sooooo nice. Calories counted, food prepared and portion-packages. Called in late to work so that I can go to the gym. I HATE that I missed yesterday. I'm going to eat a lot of veggies and salads, so that should clear me out nicely.
*Later
Okay, so remember how I said hectic days trigger my anxiety? I didn't even make it through my shift at work (yes, this is after coming in late). I'm off for tomorrow. So I'll be broke, but relaxed. Oh well. I'm going to browse for new workout music and then hit my elliptical.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Things To See, People To Do
I've got so much to do today. Class, homework, family event, haircut... Argh. I've already eaten too much for the day and I'm really not sure if I'll get to the gym to work it off. Blech.
My body is such a strange shape. My top is two sizes smaller than my bottom. I need a shrug/cardigan of some sort to wear over a sleeveless dress and couldn't find one that I really like. My favorite one is made from a beautiful slubby silvery grey knit. The body is cut perfectly and makes my back look long and fit. Unfortunately, the sleeves are tight and make my fat arms look like silver sausages. Ew. Anyway, I bought three sweaters and will try them all on with the dress. Loser stays here with me, doomed to cover my quivering carcass. Winners go back to the stores from whence they came, gifted with a second chance to be matched with someone pretty.
*Edit. I counted my calories and I still have 155 left. I can have a small scoop of sorbet if we go out tonight, otherwise I will have some nuts when we get home. Feels so good to have things under CONTROL.
My body is such a strange shape. My top is two sizes smaller than my bottom. I need a shrug/cardigan of some sort to wear over a sleeveless dress and couldn't find one that I really like. My favorite one is made from a beautiful slubby silvery grey knit. The body is cut perfectly and makes my back look long and fit. Unfortunately, the sleeves are tight and make my fat arms look like silver sausages. Ew. Anyway, I bought three sweaters and will try them all on with the dress. Loser stays here with me, doomed to cover my quivering carcass. Winners go back to the stores from whence they came, gifted with a second chance to be matched with someone pretty.
*Edit. I counted my calories and I still have 155 left. I can have a small scoop of sorbet if we go out tonight, otherwise I will have some nuts when we get home. Feels so good to have things under CONTROL.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
That's Better
All out, and a nice shower. I feel *so* much better.
What brought this on? Well, my husband and I had a bit of a bad situation last night. He had a panic attack and we went to bed feeling all wierd. Since we had not had a chance to talk yet, things were still not resolved this afternoon. I over-did it at the gym (go figure) and then I binged. And barfed.
He's home now. Things are better. Why did I eat because I felt bad? It's not as if I'm not aware that it only makes me feel shittier.
What brought this on? Well, my husband and I had a bit of a bad situation last night. He had a panic attack and we went to bed feeling all wierd. Since we had not had a chance to talk yet, things were still not resolved this afternoon. I over-did it at the gym (go figure) and then I binged. And barfed.
He's home now. Things are better. Why did I eat because I felt bad? It's not as if I'm not aware that it only makes me feel shittier.
Head Case
Just polished off two pints of ice cream and a combo meal from Burger King. This is immediately after spending three hours at the gym.
They don't call it a disorder for nothing.
They don't call it a disorder for nothing.
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