Thursday, December 27, 2007

Bhutto Assassinated.

I don't know why, but I kinda liked her. Either way though, Pakistan is in a LOT more trouble.

Daughter of Destiny
--read the last paragraph!

Update: I told you Pakistan was in trouble. Ten dead, rioting across the nation.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

When this happens

I get curious about how I want the market and government to be making decisions. In this case, I think the government fucked up. We know that corn-based ethanol is more environmentally damaging than burning gasoline and uses more energy in the long run.

Will the government learn to ask "and then what?" Does the market protect against such problems by its nature? Can the market lead to ultimate decimation or can that be protected? I don't know. . .

BTW, something different for a change.

Friday, December 14, 2007

Fairy Tales

Ah, so I was having a discussion with Dr. B. the other evening and the salience of that discussion really hit home tonight. Therapists have to tell clients fairy tales for "recovery" to happen. I know that in ED treatment they always tell you "it doesn't matter what you look like." or "People don't judge you on your appearance."

That's a fairy tale. It's not just people with ED's who obsess over their weight. People notice what you look like. Too bad, but it's the world we live in. Here's the thing, as I was looking over my ED community discussion board, I saw so many people living under the delusion that their looks don't matter. Make peace with it. You can choose to care a lot and live under the reality that looking really nice and beautiful gives you lots of advantages. There are huge opportunity costs associated with that. For me, high probability of death was the cost. You can choose to ignore the fact that looks matter and go about life however you please. Also has huge opportunity costs. Short people don't make as much money as tall people. Somehow you have to compensate or accept the cost. Or you can choose to do what you can, within the realms of continued survival and enjoyment of life, work to look good.

Here's the thing though, very few people have the psychic courage to chose. Very few people have the freedom necessary to make choices. And when they do, people rarely actually make their own choices. Is my choice to balance between looks matter and highly fatal disease one I made? No. It's one I, Dr. B., Dr. K, Dr. K, Dr H, R, D, M, etc etc made. I just look like the agent. (I know, economic hearsay). Do we even want people to choose? It's hard work and dissonance creating.

I don't know if fairy tales are a good thing, but they definitely are a real thing. I wonder which ones I subscribe to. Probably ones about my worth.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Hmm. . . who knows. . .

Titles are so damn hard. I have started and given up on this post many times. And as a blog post. And as a journal entry. I don't know quite what's going on. I am doing well ED-wise. Really well. Little uncertainties here and there, haven't thrown away DPs yet, but I'm not taking them. Haven't pitched the scale yet, but I don't necessarily get on it very often. And when I do, it doesn't rule my life, just knocks me down a touch. But not to the point where it greatly affects me. Generally, I am happy and content and kinda peaceful.

Maybe it's the weather that has me so. . . well, I don't know, just feeling a little off of late.

Maybe it is my decision to stop seeing my T. (BTW, I stopped seeing my N about a month ago) Neither of these decisions is based upon Ed-logic; both are based on the fact that I was getting a greater benefit not going or really wasn't getting any benefit by going. Too often I ended up frustrated. I actually feel a little guilty for deciding to terminate T and actually ashamed probably, because I am not telling the T, I am simply not going to reschedule.

Maybe it's my decision to not go home for all of winter break, just a few days. It's not that I really want to be home or anything, but my parents seem so distraught. I hate that they act like they love me now, but never did as I was growing up. And their love is couched in insults or degrading of me. For that, and other reasons, I don't want to be around them more than possible. But I hate that they won't accept me for the daughter I am and still try to push me into the son that they wish I were. Whatever it is that is related to me, it isn't good enough. So I have wonderful relationships with profs that are thriving and I am a wonderful student, for my parents, that means that I am not socializing enough with real people. Aren't my profs real people?

So, maybe I am just a tad bit angry. I think I am okay with the fact that I am angry. I understand that I cannot change their behavior. But why do I wish they would change their behavior? I don't really think highly of them as people and I don't really find family to be something special beyond sharing the same gene pool. I wish I could say that I felt no obligation to them, because I don't think I should feel an obligation. It's really silly; they chose to have a child, rear the child, and fund child's education. I shouldn't be obliged to individual choices. But I feel it. I feel like I need to be a good daughter. But I'm smart enough to realize that if I try to be a good daughter, it will kill me, literally and figuratively.

I don't know. It seems like there is probably a great deal I am not saying, but I don't know what it is. Hmm. . . I know it has to be there because I hear Ed whispering, trying to remind me how "wonderful" life was with him. I don't believe him, but on some level, a very disordered level, I wish I did believe him. I don't know why I want to believe him, but I do.

Sunday, December 9, 2007

Ridiculous Longings

Hmm. . . Ed's creeping up again. In the most ridiculous way. I miss Ed right now; although I have no desire to go back, I kinda want to. I think I miss the high that comes with starving, purging, losing a pound. I hated the emotional roller coaster, but the roller coaster reminds you that you are alive. Perhaps that is where all the SI urges have been coming from of late. I am longing to go back.

You know what, in a sense, this fits in with the other issues that has been stirring around in my mind: longing for my parents to stop being my parents and just let it be. Yes, I am weird; yes, I am fiercely independent; yes, I am not the "bonding" type; and yes, I have definitely broken several of the mores my family has placed upon me. I wish they would let go. Maybe I am not the daughter they wanted, but I am the daughter they got and I am not going to keep trying to change for them. That will kill me at some point. Here's the thing, I wish they would treat me as the rational agent they see everyone else as and stop treating me as the daughter they wish I were.

Little crazy of late.

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

I hadn't a clue

That I could speak like I did this evening. I spoke to about 150 people about Ed. It went well; I think it was rhetorically effective. I had a huge voice, filling the whole auditorium, but a voice that moved with the flow of the speech. There was no roaming, every move had a purpose. There were certainly things that I could improve upon--hand gestures, eye contact with the people in the back of the room.

By the way, calling Ed out in front of other people is really fucking empowering. I suggest you try it.

Monday, December 3, 2007

Sunday, December 2, 2007

You cannot always see

Recall that I had an orthopedist say "you don't look like you have an ED." And now that I have been doing well, I can see how my health has improved. Ways that didn't seem unhealthy until my body had time to adjust to healthy behavior. Most notably, I had always assumed I had these periods that were (a) short and (b) free of any PMS symptoms. Ha! Those where indicative of the fact that my body wasn't getting nearly enough nutrition. I do have cramps and my periods are about four days, not two. I still hate them, but that's because they are so inconvenient.

Here's my point: People don't look like they have EDs. Health effects aren't always obvious. Hell, I had two blood tests that both came back normal. EDs are dangerous, mentally and physically.

Thursday, November 29, 2007

Who is that girl??

First off, I have been doing really well. Monday made me at two months without ED/SI behaviors and that two months included a trip home! I am generally happy, curious, energetic, and willing to push my boundaries.

One way I have pushed a boundary is by starting to give presentations about what it is like to have and recovery from an ED for a mental illness advocacy group. As I was upstairs getting ready to practice my speech, I looked in the window and literally felt that the girl I saw in the mirror was not the girl with the ED. In fact, in that brief moment, I could not imagine why I would chose to b/p or restrict. That moment has passed, but the truth of it has not.

I am not the same person I was with an active, severe ED. I am not the same person I was three months ago. My voice is two octaves, at least, lower. There is little hint of the "please don't hurt me" little girl voice. I stand up taller. In some sense, I have grown several inches in the last three months. I am more confident; I use my voice more, A LOT more; I smile a lot. Somebody told me that I had a "nun like sense of peace" about me. Joyful. Like a spring after a long winter. I'm not the girl I was. In fact, I am a stranger I know better than I ever knew the "me" I tried to be for so long.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Another Anniversary

Okay kiddos. . . This might mean nothing to you all, but I am pretty damn excited. . .about what?

I'm glad you asked. . .

Pause for Suspense. . .


Monday, November 26, 2007

I'm Confused.

I don't quite know what's going on. I am confused. About what? Not sure. Probably something to do with the first time in ten years I saw my parents that I didn't turn to Ed. . . How weird. Okay, it's only weird to someone who's never done any better than that. Maybe I'm scared. Maybe I'm uncertain. I don't know and I don't know what I need.

Saturday, November 24, 2007

Remind me

the next time I say anything serious about humans being rational maximizers of their utility that I came home for this break. That decision certainly did not maximize my utility. It may have minimized it. . . I apparently chose the wrong extremum. My mental math must be off.

Friday, November 9, 2007

I don't fit.

That's been a little bit of an overwhelming feeling lately. I don't fit. Now, I am trying very hard to not let that develop into "and therefore I should starve so I do fit" but it is getting increasingly difficult to do. And when I am actively engaging in ED behaviors I have a place where I fit, with all the rest of the people who understand EDs. I know. It's pathetic. Humans are pathetic. We don't often rise above drives for relationships. Some of us do a decent job of denying the fact that we have or need any. But it is usually an unhealthy way of denial.

I am going to ask Dr. H. about life advice about this today.

Thursday, November 1, 2007

The Past

Have you ever changed completely in a very short span of time? By changed completely, I mean changed your fundamental assumptions about the world, about people, about yourself, and represent those changes in the way you see yourself, your place in the world, the way the world works. And then have you had the old you be brought back up again? Or better yet, have people from your old life reappeared?

It's rather unsettling. It's frustrating. I don't really like it. I don't not like it, I just don't like it either. I feel pressured to resume the "right" role from my past. Remember these people from my past have radically different views of the world and what the world should be than I do now, but that I did once hold. How do you interact with that group of people? What do you say? You are primarily limited to the weather and every body's health. Well, even health is contentious because their perception of health is distinctly different than mine. I certainly cannot discuss any thing that I find fascinating (except perhaps my horse) because there exists a fundamental deep disagreement among the interlocutors. The situation is both potentially explosive and potentially mundane. Escaping from those extremes is very difficult, and I am not sure that it is even possible in every case.

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

So, the hardest lesson for me:
Trust other people. Not just the T or N, trust other people to see the world correctly. For me, recovery is learning to trust what other people tell me about who I am and who I can be. If other people tell me I am sick, they are probably right. I'm probably wrong because I don't see the world as it really exists. If other people tell me I can go do X, I probably can. Trust the people who care about you. Learning to stop fighting with these people and start trusting them was one of the hardest lessons I had to learn.

I am more than habit. A professor told me this. Retreating to Ed because of habit is not acceptable. I can choose otherwise every time. That choice might not be comfortable or easy, but it is a choice. And chances are that I will be fine every time I make the choice to defy habit.

Monday, October 29, 2007

One Month

For the first time in almost ten years, I have gone an entire month without using ANY ED behaviors. I have had good days and days where I had to fight and claw and struggle with Ed. But they were all successes. I am proud and merry-go-sorry all at the same time. I am proud that I have come so far. I am disappointed that I wasted so much of my life, HALF OF IT, dating Ed. I am pleased and peaceful because I have gained such a great perspective on the world. I am amazed because I will NEVER take for granted some of the things every body else does and I will NEVER take for granted just how wonderful life can be, how wonderful I can make it.

I now am in a position where I can really appreciate the relationship I have with Dr. H, K, B, P. . .

There's no point in saying I won't every struggle again, or that I am fully recoverED, but I am well on my way. And even in the rough times, I am willing. Very willing, to do whatever it takes. I am sure now, recovery is possible.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

What would you tell people about having an ED?

This question was posed at group tonight. . . and here is about what I said:

It's like having two people in one body. There's ME--an intellect, an equestrian, a curious ball of energy and there's Ed, my eating disorder, who is tired and isolating. For me, recovery is about learning to listen to bright people tell me who I am and who I can be. Recovery is about seeing reality and teaching me who I am.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Success after Success after Slip after Success

Wow! I ate pizza last night. I ate pb/j today. It's crazy. Something doesn't follow in my mind. I don't understand how I made the change or why I made it. But I did make the change. And I am constantly amazed by that. I don't think very many of you can understand what it means. It is better than being "saved." And I have been saved, so I can say that. I don't even know how to explain it. You know, it is a sense of being oddly aware of the little things. Taking an odd sort of pleasure in the very small things. Having a strong sense of awareness about where you are, where you have been and how grateful you are for being helped to get here. Really, how many people have a sense that just eating pizza is something to enjoy? Exactly.

Everytime that gratitude kicks in, when I have that revelation that "oh, I couldn't have done this while dating Ed," I am glad that I had the opportunity to appreciate all these little things. Life is so much more that way.

Saturday, October 20, 2007

I don't know

I don't know where to go from here. I know I want to go and that it will be exciting. But I don't know where to go. I have spent so much of my life caught up in an Ed, that not having a full blown disorder feels weird and it leaves me with some ambiguity about the future. As long as I was dating Ed, I had a clear goal--lose weight. And now I refuse to follow that goal. Instead, I have to find new goals. And it's not that I don't have new goals--grad school, horses, IMPACT, interactions. But it's that those goals are long therm, self actualizing like goals. What the hell do I do to accomplish now? More importantly, why do I need to accomplish now? Especially in such a tangible sense? Losing weight was so straightforward. I wasn't very good at it, but it was straightforward. And so clear, I knew when I lost weight. I don't know when I write a good paper or ask good questions.

See ambiguous and I don't know how I feel about that. Leaving Ed behind is a sign that I am willing to trust myself in some sense. And that is scary. Am I really worth trusting? Other people seem to think that I am, but when have I ever granted much credence to other people. Exactly, never. Okay, occasionally. Dr. H, Dr. B, and Dr. K. that's probably about it. I guess that is a step and I should be grateful that I have made that step. But what is the next one?

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

The never ending but. . .

I am doing well, but. . .
  • I got on the scale yesterday. I was okay with it at first and I think it is really starting to get to me. God, the number is down. But that's not the point. Who cares about the number. Having energy is better than being th*n. I swear. I love energy.
  • I freaked out about dinner yesterday. I threw what I had bought away and went back to safe foods. I thought I was done with safe food and bad food, except for some of my really, really freaky foods, ice cream, anything fried, fast food, peanut butter, trans fat, chips, general snack food, dessert. Oh, shit that's a lot more than I was thinking I would still have.
  • I kept having to change clothes this morning because I was feeling so huge. But I'm not. There is no way I could have gained several pounds overnight. It is just impossible.
  • I am really keyed up about the "media" section in WS. I don't want to have to hear about it. I know what's there and I don't want to talk about it. Is there a reason I don't want to talk about it? Eh, I don't know. It does trigger me on a regular basis.
  • I have to ask for help. And not for a mental disorder. I have come to terms with having to ask for help about Ed. But this help is for grad school. I want to go to a snazzy grad school and I need help to get the prereqs in. But if I need help, should I even be at a snazzy grad school. Everybody else seems to think so highly of me. Don't they see? I am inept. Damn stubborn and hard working, but not competent. This is overwhelming cognitive dissonance. Probably why I am not ready to leave T yet too.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

So, what's going on?

Lots of stuff. I am thinking about where I want to go with treatment right now. Also, I know there are little Ed moments. I am uncertain and unsure about where future is going to lead me. But I know I want to go there. I want to get to my future, because I know it will be exciting!

Monday, October 8, 2007


Something Changed.

I learned to stop obsessing and start eating. Just eating. I don't know what changed. I don't know how I made the move to not listen to Ed anymore, even though I still hear him. I still hear th*n and kinda loathe my body, but I stopped obsessing. Like I pay attention to other things--Economics, Learning, Curiosity, UP. I just seemed to have "gotten it." And I don't even know what "it" is. But let me tell you, I learned to stop obsessing and start eating and life has never been better.

Some of it is that that I finally made the decision to let myself be. What do I mean? I stopped trying to be perfect or doing the "right" thing. I just let myself be. I accepted my playfulness, my curiosity, my energy. I decided to maybe not violently fight against compliments. I still find compliments weird to my psyche and hugely creating of cognitive dissonance, but I stopped objecting.

I have people to thank for this--Dr. B. and Dr. H. especially. They have totally supported my curiosity and my energy. They have encouraged me to be me. AND THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW THAT. Well they might get some sense of it, but really, I don't know that they really understand how influential they have been. I hope I can pay them back sometime.

Sunday, October 7, 2007

I am SO weird.

And I don't know how to process that. Actually, perhaps intense is a better way of discussing my personality. I care, one hundred and ten percent, about almost everything I do. I don't know how to handle the fact that my intensity and weirdness are so different from many of my peers. It has occurred to me that this has been a huge part of my ED. Trying to fit myself into a normal role. A less intense, a less overwhelming version of who I was. I was OVERWHELMINGLY curious as a child--reading all night long and passionately following my parents around at work. And then these passionate, intense, and weird aspects of me were confined. Pushed into a bedtime, into a quiet child, well behaved and a model child. But I don't fit into that model.

My weirdness makes me feel really alienated from the world. People don't understand me. I cannot discuss things with people because they don't get me. I am "too energetic," "too weird," or "too much." "Too engaged." "Too rational and intellectual." Even the T is giving me the sense that I am "too motivated," despite the fact that I am happier now than I have ever been. Apparently I am supposed to "relax" and "calm down."

Wednesday, October 3, 2007


So, I have this moral principle--individual responsibility over collective responsibility. I don't know if I want it as a value though. Okay, why do I bring this up?? Because that moral principle has been causing me a really great deal of frustration and "feisty tizzies" lately. I am weird and I don't understand why other people aren't as weird as I am. Like, people honestly don't care. What? I have no concept of not caring. I care intensely and I get VERY committed and engaged. Now, although, I don't really expect people to be as 110% engaged as I am, but I mean, 90% would be good. A little greater concern than 0%.

Maybe I am being really cynical. But it's really frustrating. I don't understand how people do not hold themselves to the same standard I hold myself. Okay, that's not entirely true, I understand a little; that's half the reason I am in T--to learn to have a better, less deadly standard of excellence. But I don't understand why people don't hold themselves to a standard of excellence. I understand avoiding a standard of perfection. Perfection is dangerous. Excellence is a good thing. Energy is a good thing. Engagement is a good thing. Excitement is a good thing.

I am not going to try to push myself into the image of a normal person any more. That is a huge part of what Ed was for me. Trying to be normal. Trying to see the world the same way everybody else did. I never will. I will never be normal; the world will always look differently to me. I will always have weird values. And I think that is a good thing.

Sunday, September 30, 2007

Ed's telling me I am gross and f*t. How do I not believe him?

Wednesday, September 26, 2007


Okay, I am getting more and more frustrated with Ed. And I am walking out on him. Granted, he is fucking clingy and hangs on with death grips and I won't be able to shake him easily, but I am SO SICK of thinking about food and weight and the scale all the time. I want to think about horses, about economics, about mathematics. SO, I WILL HAVE NO MORE!

Here is to willingness. I just covered the numbers on my scale with a sign that says "be comfortable in your genes, sturdy girl!" I am going to take my DPs to the dumpster tonight. I am going to eat on my MP, no matter what. No matter how lousy or f*t or uncertain I perceive myself to be. No matter how scared. No matter how frustrated.

It is ridiculous for me to continue to behave this way, especially when I hate it SO much. This is not only a matter of going to the T and the N and the GP. This is a matter of Savvy going to T, and N, and GP and taking all of the advice and knowledge home with her. I am sick of just following what Ed says and not challenging one word of it. Fuck that. Here is to s. I love them, I need them like there is no tomorrow. There is no reason why I should separate my desire for intellectual and personal challenge from emotional challenge. I want to grow and develop all the way around.

So, this is my stand. NO MORE ED! I am not his girlfriend any more.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Yes, Definitely an Economist here. . .

I just created a nascent utility function to describe why I have an eating disorder instead of relationships. It needs some honing, but I did it, right in my journal. Complete with a graph of risk aversion toward relationships.

A funny thing just happened

I let somebody help me. I let somebody support me and encourage me. And it feels okay. Granted, it is a person in cyberspace, but it was a person and s/he did help me. I don't quite know how to process that. But then again, do I ever know how to process anything?

Friday, September 21, 2007

Is it just me, or is life confusing? I am really having an odd time of it right now. Am I sane? Do I really have an eating disorder? Am I so crazy that I develop an eating disorder because I want one?? Am I so fucking needy and weird that nothing is going to help me? Do I want to eat now? Do I need to eat now?

I am so amazingly in awe at this "reality" I am in right now. It's not that I am ambivalent about "recovery;" rather, that I am so determined in both directions. Simultaneously, I want to be thin and happy/energetic/healthy. Those are two INCOMMENSURABLE objectives. But I very desperately want both of them, and I want them in the extreme. None of this normal stuff, "normal" weight. I don't want normal. I desperately want to be different; I just don't want those who are normal to recognize that I am different in a way that benefits them. I want people with whom I identify, intelligent, thoughtful and forward moving people to notice my difference. Blath, it's all just crazy talk. Just crazy talk. . . and that is the clue that I probably just hit on something important. My immediate change of direction without any warning suggests that there is something there that might be a little disruptive to my way of being. . .

Perhaps it is that when I acknowledge I want affirmation from others means that I am not a rock in the storm, perhaps it signals that I am not truly autonomous, perhaps it signals that I am not as independent as I would like to think. It says that I need other people. Shit. I don't want to need other people, I get hurt when I need other people. Those people either leave or they don't treat me well. God damn it. This is an issue and I don't want to face it. I mean, who wants to say they need others, that they are not the island they thought they were.

I sure as hell don't, but now that I have said it. . . what do I do???

Monday, September 17, 2007

Again, You know you're an economist when. . .

(1) Think to yourself how fascinating it would have been to live through the Great Depression.
(2) Spend an entire day preoccupied with what the Fed is going to do tomorrow!

Friday, September 14, 2007

I need help

And I know that. I know I spend my life teetering on the edge of making (or actually making) dangerous decisions. But I don't know where to start when it comes to getting help. I appreciate the opportunity costs associated with making sure that EVERYONE has the exact help they need, where they need it, when they need it. I am not asking for that; it would be extremely selfish. But I am asking that, when I am willing to consider making huge sacrifices for help that such help be available.

Part of it is me, I know. I need to reach out. I need to say that I am lonely and face that. Find people that will support and help me. But I wish it were that easy. I don't get on with my peers well, so that is generally out. I get on wonderfully with my professors, but where do I draw the line? Besides, I am afraid that I would change their opinions of me. For example, as I have been feeling extremely needy recently, I have been going to Dr. H's office really regularly, not only for the wonderful economic discussion that we have, but also for the sense of acceptance, mutual respect and affection I receive. I enjoy having close intellectual mentors and I wish I could tell him how much I am struggling just to get through the day. But I am so afraid he will think less of me. How could he not? I cannot but think less of me, why would I expect any difference from him? I just happen to be feeling very alone and silent lately. It is getting to me.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

I binged. . . on peanut butter. . . what the hell is wrong with me? Why do I eat if it clearly makes me feel miserable. And by feel, I mean a physical sensation, not emotional. My stomach feels like I should be pregnant. Every couple days I have this binge and every couple days I hate myself. I don't eat in between too much, but I do this fucked up binge thing. And I honestly don't think it is because I starve myself. . . Because I am never fucking hungry.

God. I hate this. And I think I just make myself crazier every day.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

You know you are an economist when. . .

  • you read the crossword clue "hammers and hoes," you immediately think "capital" must be the answer.
  • you check out a 1611 treatise on usury that has never been checked out in the last 32 years.

Friday, August 24, 2007

Fuck, I just at pb/j. . . over 2000 cals, good thing I didn't eat yesterday. But I am blowing up like a balloon. Literally, I don't think this is my mind. I honestly think you can see my stomach expand.

I didn't eat a damn thing yesterday and it paid off. . . 155 down to 151.5. My body doesn't like it, but if I get skinner, it will all pay off.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Renfrew called back. My insurance won't cover me for Resi or IP. Fuck. Private pay is an option, but at $2000/day. . . I think not so much.
I called Renfrew Center this morning. I know the behaviors aren't life threatening yet, but I see them getting worse and I know my mind is just an absolute wreck. They are going to call me back to schedule an assessment. I am nervous and I don't want to have to give up any school or anything else. I just don't know what other choice I have right now.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Peanut butter is fucking impossible to throw up. What the hell??? Now I am going to be FAT.

On the good side, I am down to 154.
I am confused.

Everything about me makes no sense? Honestly, I did an artistic therapy exercise last night and I realized that I really hate my body. Like I want my body to disappear. I don't want to die, I just want my body to disappear. But where the hell would I go if my body disappear? What the fuck. I don't make any sense. I know those are completely illogical statements. Every CT red light I have is going bonkers, but I don't know how to push those beliefs out of my life. The belief that my body is wrong, ugly, dirty, and should disappear underlies so much of my ED/SI. Underlies so much of my own self loathing. By being attached to such a body, I, myself, am wrong, worthless and need to disappear. And the only way I see to fix this is by being perfect. Absolutely perfect, with no dirt anywhere. God, it sounds like I might die this way. I actually have no doubt right now that I will be my own downfall, one way or another.

Friday, August 17, 2007

For two days

I have not weighed myself. Not for lack of desire, but for lack of ability. I hate not knowing my weight. I think I have lost, but I am not sure. I haven't eaten very much and I have the "losing" feeling. I hope I am down to like 152 or so.

I am not supposed to be thinking about weight. Let alone talking in numbers.

Monday, August 6, 2007

"You don't look like you have an eating disorder"

That's the genius quote of the day from my orthopedist. I am having some issues with numbness in my feet and I asked if that could have anything to do with the ED. Doc's response: "You don't look like you have an eating disorder. Which one?" First, nobody looks like they have an ED, necessarily. It is a MENTAL illness, of the MIND, not of the body. People look like they have the side effects of an ED. Second, I hate the question "which one?" EDs are not like picking candy off the shelf. "Which top did you pick? Which ED do you have???" What the hell. Next, the genius says "don't do that anymore. You have the discipline to ride at Chesterland so don't do that anymore." Okay, sure, I won't as long as you decide to not breathe anymore.

Watch me. I show him that I DO have an ED and hell, hopefully I will look like it. Because then I would be thin.

Sunday, August 5, 2007

So Fucking Fat!

Period. That's all there is to it. I am FAT. Screamingly, horrifically FAT. If I were to never eat again and live to be 80, I would still be FAT. Evil, Gross, Disgusting and FAT. Go ahead world, try and tell me I am not. I know I am. People try to tell me I am not, that I am athletic, that I look good, sometimes even that I have lost weight. Who gives a flying fuck?? I am FAT. If I loose fifty pounds, I might have a chance in hell to not be obese. But right now--FAT, FAT, FAT!!!

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

98% of the time

Everything about having an eating disorder seems "normal." It doesn't seem different than any other person's life. It just feels like a normal day, a normal life. But then, every once in a while, I realize that other people don't do this. They don't lie about what they had for breakfast. They don't have panic attacks when they see the menus. They definitely don't purge. But those things strike me as odd only at few moments. Not even when I am getting ready to b/p do I think about how disordered it is. It doesn't feel strange.

Maybe that's why I am so resistant to the idea of changing. Being different would feel strange. I like the familiar.

Sunday, May 13, 2007

Another Transition

Tomorrow. I leave tomorrow. For my first summer as a real adult. I will pay rent, own a car, buy my own food, clothes and gas. Completely and totally on my own. I'm not scared, but I am anxious. I am worrying about money, about my horse, about failing Bruce. Okay, yes, I am worried about being imperfect, about not being perfect. I am going as a student. Students are supposed to be imperfect; Bruce is the only one who could even possibly be expected to be perfect. I am okay with him falling off, so why am I so paranoid about falling off myself.

So, yes, I stand upon the border of yet another transition. And that is okay with me. I like the idea of transitions, I just get nervous about them. I will be okay. But the lead up is unsettling.

And I am going to miss my horse, a lot. I was laying in the grass with him today and he nosed me after about ten minutes, to see if I was okay! It was adorable. Bruce may have a lot on me, but I would never let him touch my horse. UP is a very special horse and traditional training, any force, any lack of equality and he becomes what Jackie called "a killer." That's why he and I get on so well--equality. We both demand respect, neither of us can lie about anything, and we can laugh at each other. UP laughs at me all the time and I tease him big time. I think my relationship with him must feel like what people think love is. HEHE! And this (hopefully) will be the last three months I ever have to spend away from him.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Being Home

Honestly, being at home is miserable. I don't like living with large groups of people, or any other people for that matter. I don't like other people believing they should have control over my life or behavior. I don't like people paternalizing me, at all. Perhaps this is why I get on so well with Dr. B, minimal to no paternilization. I'm a bright adult and if I screw up, I probably should pay the consequenses. Besides, it is an incentive to not screw up again. (Okay, so I am clearly an economist!)

I have had a tough few days home, really slipping up good. But I am not going to submit altogether. I have a new plan that includes one of the strictest, most obsessive MPs and keeping a notebook of daily commitments toward recovery. I am going to keep very open email communication with M and continue to work on my assertiveness. And keep journaling. I do feel really desperate right now, but I have pulled myself out of worse spots than this before so, here goes nothing!

Thursday, May 3, 2007

This is weird

I am feeling so much dissonance about my weight and body right now. Half of me, the rational half of me, is scared. Two people have assured me that I look thinner. Really?? I don't really see it, but my perception is all screwy. The other half of me, the eating disorder voice, is screaming about how successful I am. How much control I have.

I get excited every time the number on the scale drops, even a half pound. And at the same time, I worry that I will not be able to get out.

I enjoy not having to eat. And at the same time, I know I need to eat more.

I like the fact that I completely control my intake and I know my weight and I know my calories. And at the same time, I know that knowing those things is dangerous and self defeating.

I like the feeling of jeans that get looser and looser. And at the same time, I am scared that someday what were my skinny jeans will fall off me.

I don't feel like this is my mind going right now. I am not supposed to be disconcerted by weight loss. The dissonance between what I believe and what I know is overwhelming. . . and that perpetuates itself. Of course, this couldn't be easy.

Wednesday, May 2, 2007

I am going to miss her. . .

and I am sad that the relationship is ending, even crying a little. I really liked my T and I think she is going to be one hell of a therapist, but summer is here and both she and I are headed to new places. I hope she learned something from me and I know I learned a lot from our sessions. I cannot do anything to prevent the end and it is okay for me to be a little sad. It makes me kinda want to use behaviors to get this feeling away from me, but that would be silly. Marking the end of T by giving in to all that I have worked so hard to get out of would be akin unto blasphemy. So guess what? I am going to celebrate my achievements and developments and keep opting in for recovery. I am going to acknowledge that I am sad, but that I don't have to act on it.

Now it is time for my morning snack and I am going to eat it while I edit a paper.

A New Day!

Today is a new day! I just finished breakfast and I used the meal as an opportunity to eat something different than my normal yogurt. And there were A LOT more calories in it than normal. But that won't hurt me. Sorry, Ed. Those calories will not make me f*t or obese or cause my body to swell beyond control. Those calories will give me energy and nutrition to enjoy life and do everything I want to do.

Previously, when I have had these moments of high motivation I crash. I tend to crash HARD. But I have some strategies to deal with it this time. I am a little more settled with myself and the Zoloft is working well.

No more crashes.

Tuesday, May 1, 2007

Body Image is a BITCH!

I know I am not a horrible person.
I know I am even a pretty bright.
I know I am not fat.

But I still hate my body. It is like I am at war with my body. I don't feel comfortable in my own skin, in this body that I have. As stressful as my mind can be, my body is worse. It is as though my body is completely alien and wrong to me. It's so weird. And I don't know what to do with it. It's not a part of me. I often have a desire to scrape my body away. Just cut it off every little bit of fat and flesh. Bones, for some reason, seem to have some sort of special property that makes them not entirely terrible. Just bones. I want to be just bones. No fat, no flesh. I don't even understand that.

Anorexia's logic never makes any sense; it is simply the antithesis of logic. And, yet, despite all that CT training I have, I still give into the logic. But this time I am going to try to figure out some ways to argue with that logic. Because, frankly, there is nothing wrong with my body.

Monday, April 30, 2007

Losing Weight is Addicting

It just is. I know I don't need to lose any more weight. But I still get excited when that needle goes down. That's silly. It is a fucking number.

For a math student, I really hate numbers.

Sunday, April 29, 2007

Finally Angry

I am finally angry. I am annoyed. I am frustrated. I am pissed off. My jaw is tense and I feel energy radiating in my chest. My movements are short and purposeful. My sentences are short and choppy. I use lots of fragments to make my point. That's me when I get angry. My speech would be rapid and short if I were speaking.
So what the hell am I angry about? I am pissed off that my parents seem to see no reason why they should consider my needs, wants, or desires in their opinion making. I am angry that they seem to be treating me like I am a two year old when I am really twenty. I am annoyed because they are ignoring the fact that I even have a voice to use. I am all grown up, an economist with the ability to run cost/benefit analysis. I know how to make my own decisions.

This is when my emotions are strong. When people ignore my voice. When people treat me like a two year old. I have a huge preference for autonomy over familial loyalty and I don't get worked up over familial duties or losses. They are just other humans with whom I happen to have common DNA. So what? I do get worked up when people skoosh my autonomy. Where do you think the bulimia came from? People telling me that I had to eat this and had to eat that. Fuck them, I said, I can eat it. . . and bring it right back up. Nobody said I have to digest it. Pfff!

So, yes, I am angry.

Saturday, April 28, 2007

Learning Something

I don't have very strong emotions. Yes, I do have emotions that I have not learned how to handle. I have feelings and emotions, but I also have tools to deal with them. My methods are less than safe, but I am working on developing safer ones. But in reality, I am fairly Stoic in my philosophy. I have an awareness of the responsibility I have in given situations. Let me give you an example. . .
My grandfather died last night.
He was ninety. He smoked for seventy years. He was very lonely. He was not very happy in his life. He was happy that he got to see some of his grandchildren get married, great grandchildren be born, and outlive most of his friends and relatives. He did not want to go to a nursing home; he wanted to die in the house he built. He did.

I am not sad. My roommate called me inhuman last night because I am not sad about this. It's not that I don't care or don't acknowledge that some people would be sad in this situation, I just don't have any control over the situation and his death is not a huge trauma. He lived a full life, much more than many other people. I have no control over his death and I am happy that he did not let my parents and aunts push him into a nursing home where he would have been miserable, even if he had lived for a few extra years. I do, however, feel like an awful person because I am not sad. I wasn't close to him. I do have the emotion of sadness, but just not right now. Am I somehow less than human because I don't have the emotions I am supposed to have?

I do get sad. If my horse died, I would be sad because I would feel some responsibility. I would have lost something very important to me. I would not be convinced that my horse is better off not living. But the given the situation, I don't emote sadness. I am not an emotional person.

THAT'S OKAY. My entire life I have been told that I should feel this or have this emotion or not have this other emotion. My roomie labeled me inhuman and uncaring because I am not sad because millions of people do not have adequate food and water. I know, but why should I be sad about that? My roomie decided I don't appreciate beauty because I don't understand why people walking by a virtuoso violinist is a travesty. It's not that I am nonchalant or uninvolved or detached, I am primarily simply in control and very aware of what is going on in my mind.

I am hyper-aware of my mental processes (as if you haven't figured this out yet) and I use such awareness to my benefit. Is it wrong that I choose to control some of my emotions? Am I somehow not adequately experiencing life because I am so Stoic? Less human? Detached? Uncaring or heartless?

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Haha! A few successes and some failures

NYC went better than I had expected. Oh yes, I got to obsess and obsess over it before hand, but I also got to make a whole hell of a lot of contingency plans and that was useful. Was I perfect? NOPE, far from it. Did I try really hard and keep myself from really severe ED behaviors? Yup. Did I keep myself from SI for the weekend, despite the fact that I had my razors? Kinda. I did get at myself with a plastic knife at lunch one day. It's amazing how effective a little plastic knife can be. . . I still have the lines! Yeah, there were a couple times I didn't eat every meal, but I did eat every snack. Yeah, I was way deficient on my protein--indicated by my protein binge when I got home *shame*

But I am pulling myself slowly out of a couple bad days on the rebound from the trip and in about nine minutes, I am going to opt in for my AM snack and I have plans for lunch. I still here the ED, loudly and I am still kinda giving in. I still want to feel empty and hollow. I still want to feel as though my belly button is falling through my body to my spine. But I am making myself disobey because I know that the ED offers nothing but pain and suffering and self loathing.

Thursday, April 19, 2007

Oh god, oh god, oh god

Wow. . . sometimes I am convinced I have an eating disorder and I am not making it up and right now is one of those times. The way I am putting everything into weight. My mind is focused only, ONLY on weight and f*t. I am so frantically worried about this trip and being an utter failure with my goals that I am feeling so much and still trying to put the excess into to weight concerns. I know there are feelings there, but I have enough and everything is going to weight.

I cannot stop thinking about how f*t I must be, even though I know I am not. I cannot stop checking to feel my hipbones, feel my ribs, collarbone, spine. I am so freaked out that soon I will be f*t, obese even. Ahh! It is so frustrating that I don't know what to do with it.

I am not ready

I am not ready for this. I am leaving for NYC in like nine hours, to spend three days with some people I respect and eating out. I am not ready. I am not in a good position for that to occur. I was doing so well and then all these emotions literally fell out on my lap and I feel overwhelmed by them. So much so that I am have a hard time convincing myself to eat. I just want to feel empty. Very empty. The emotions are not going to go away, but I can make my body empty.

You know, I tried to be assertive last night. I really did, but I think I might have been more effective if I would have simply flat out SI'ed, right in front of her and spoke that way. I think she would have listened better. Fuck. My communication would be so much clearer if I could just convince people to read my ankles. Everything is right there. My loneliness, my fears, my self loathing. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then scars are worth a million and bones worth many millions.

I really might end up dying before Dr. B. Of this I am aware, I am just trying to decide if I care that much.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Going Forward

Zoloft seems to be my deity in pill form. I am doing really well on the meds and so many things are happening. The a/ds have given me the ability to get just a little handle on all the things I knew. I knew I wasn't fat; I knew I was a good person; I knew I should try to challenge my ED/SI thoughts. But I couldn't. I know this now. Now, I can though. And now I AM. I am reinforcing the things I know. I am NOT fat. I am a GOOD person. I am a great student. I am a wonderful horse owner. I am capable. I still find these things pervading my thoughts, but I know I can challenge them and I am willing to try. Sometimes I am more successful than others. But there is clear evidence of my going forward.

I am two days behavior free and I am working on one more today. I can do this. Four days is my goal, but that goal will be reached one day and one meal at a time. Moment by moment, hour by hour, day by day. There will be challenges today, but I can do it! I will do it!

Thursday, April 12, 2007

What type of Horse will you be....

You are the Thoroughbred. Being the thoroughbred, you are very strong and fast, infact you can run like the wind and nothing can stop you! You will protect your loved ones throughout whatever and will do it without a fuss. You do things your own way, and love competition. You are also very brave and loyal. You love winning and impressing people but will do your best at anything. The Throroughbred is know as the ultimate race horse...
Take The Quiz Now!Quizzes by

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Rough Day

UGH! I don't want to eat, I want to purge, I want to cut. Part of it might be feeling a little overwhelmed by school and part of it might be that I am a little anxious about a speech tonight. But I don't think that is what is really at the root of this. I am afraid of giving these behaviors up; what will be left for me to use to deal? The voices in my head just go over and over about how f*t I am, how lazy I am, and how f*t eating will make me. I am so sick of thinking about such petty issues. Also, definitely feeling voiceless, but too scared to make my voice heard. I cannot use my voice; I know how to use my body. Yeah, my mind is a bit scattered right now too.

Fuck it, I am going to go try and eat lunch and try to keep it down. Fuck.

Monday, April 9, 2007


This is a real yay, not one of my sarcastic ones. The meds have made everything much more real, including emotions. I can feel the emotions that are underlying my behaviors and often I find them very, very overwhelming. And yesterday was one of those days were the emotions seemed as though they were going to squoosh me. The anxiety, the feeling being overwhelmed, the f*t feeling were so overpowering. I really wanted to b/p. I mean REALLY wanted to.


I don't feel proud, but I know I should be. So, I am going to take a few moments and brag. I am going to do something nice for me today. I did this, I fought, and I finally kicked the ED's ass. For one day at least, I was successful!

Friday, April 6, 2007

I cried last night.

I don't know what to do with that fact. I don't cry--ever. The meds are great, really make life much more dynamic and fun, but they also make emotions much more real. I know a lot of people say meds deaden their emotions, but meds really brightened mine. Anyway, those emotions can be really, really overwhelming. Feeling unheard, as a visceral experience is overwhelming and causes huge amounts of anxiety and stress in my mind. And I don't know what to do with such mental issues.

Another skill to learn. . . how to relieve such mental stressors.

Tuesday, April 3, 2007

Even With the Meds. . .

Okay, meds might be the closest thing I have to a deity right now, but they are not a deity and they don't solve all my problems. I still think they are working, but yesterday I was just high on "so this is how other people go through life? REALLY??!" and everything seemed a little magic. HOWEVER, last night and today have reminded me I still have to work really hard. Having the neurochemical ability does not simply fix the problem. NOPE! I have to work now. And I am ready. I am not happy with my day thus far, but I am going to change that. I am going to journal and not allow myself to freak out about homework or exams. I am going to work hard, but I am not going to let the overwhelmingness of it all lead me into ED hell. I am going to eat a good dinner at 8 and NOT blame myself for eating too much. I am going to do yoga and go swimming and not hate myself for not burning enough calories. The behavior work is doable, the emotional work I am more afraid of.

Monday, April 2, 2007

Maybe the meds are working!

I don't feel numb today. I don't feel dead. I have no clue what to do with these emotions; I don't know what they are or how to make sense out of them. But they are there. Instead of being sick of being sick, I am sick of being sick and I am going to do something about it. Instead of just wanting to be better because I "should" be better, I want to be better because I hate being sick, FOR ME. There is a life out there and I would like to live it. Thanks anyway.

The thing is this is not a manic, out of control up feeling. It just isn't a numb, dead sensation. And from there the desperate desire to recover kicks in and I get up and start encouraging myself toward recovery. Also, I expect this is a overreaction to the phenomenon of not feeling like I cannot get out of bed. A WOW, this is how normal people feel. . . what the hell?

Sunday, April 1, 2007

Interesting Experiences

Over the last couple days I have had some interesting experiences and I think all of them have helped me clarify the ED/SI.
  • I have had two people encourage me to get IP or Residential treatment over the summer. I don't think I am by any means that sick. Yes, I understand I still need some treatment, but I am not using behaviors on a daily basis, close, but not daily. And I really think I just need to work a little harder if I want to get this under control, but I don't think I need more outside help. NOBODY else can save me, NO Tx can save me, I have to save me.
  • I am petrified of recovery, much more scared than I am of being sick for the rest of my life. I really think being sick is the only way I am going to get attention. If I get sick enough, people will be concerned. . . perhaps we should replace people with parents. If I weigh 90lbs, do you think they will care? What about 130? I will have to learn to get what I need--love, affection, confidence--from ME.
  • You know, I had the weirdest experience yesterday. I have been going to the rec a lot and I have finally discovered the nerve to go swimming which entails wearing a swimsuit where my legs must be bare. YIPES. Now generally I would not mind because I don't know anybody there, but yesterday they had a bunch a swim lessons. Thus, there were lots of little kids running around and I know my ankles look like HELL. Now, I don't expect college students to ask; we're too self conscious. But little kids don't have that inhibition. They don't care. I cannot imagine having to explain my ankles to a child. Imagine.
  • I am so sick of my roomie. Encroaching on my space and I cannot figure out how to simply use my voice, appropriately. Apparently I went a little too far last night and exploded at her. I feel so guilty about it. Well, I actually don't feel guilty, I cut that out last night. But I think I should be guilty right now. I hope next year's randomly assigned roomie is a little saner for me. But who the hell knows?

Friday, March 30, 2007

Yay, ANOTHER issue

One of the funny things about EDs is the millions of forms they take. From traditional anorexia and bulimia to chew/spit to compulsive exercise to COE/BE. The other funny thing is that the ED tries to escape you when you try to recover, changing form fluidly from day to day. So, after seven years as a "traditional" bulimic, the ED has been chasing me with anorexia, c/s, and compulsive exercise. Let me tell you, needing to exercise for an hour so I can have "permission" to eat a SMALL, HEALTHY meal is g-d awful annoying. Meticulously counting calories. . . NOT FUN EITHER!

It seems as though this is all set after set after set of different behaviors, never really a step forward, just around in a circle. BLARG!

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

A little bit of potential

I saw the doctor yesterday. I have antidepressants now. I am not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I am relatively confident it is a good thing. I am sick of being tired all the time and sick of hating myself and sick of insomnia. And I do not know how to fight it by myself. I am not giving up; I am adding another resource to my list. It does feel a little like giving up, along the lines of I am not strong enough to do it, I have to have help. And I think that says something about me, something that I have control over. If I were stronger, smarter, braver, thinner, I would be all better. That's not true. I know those things are not true.

On the other side of things, I found the campus scale. I will not say how much I was should that trigger somebody else, but I am freaking out over 1/2 a pound. And the compulsive exercise is getting fairly bad. My ankles are killing me, but I will not stop exercising. Sometimes, if I eat too soon before bed, I really freak out and have to do a bunch of situps/pushups/jumping jacks before I can go to bed. I am petrified of waking up f*t. Also, that's not true.

A lot of what I think is not true. I have good, solid training in CT, but I refuse, apparently, to apply those skills to my reality. Hmmm. They say I am bright; I still think they lie.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

I Wonder

I wonder what it would be like to spend ten, no five minutes without thinking about the ED.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

I am tired of fighting. I don't want to fight anymore.

Monday, March 19, 2007

All I want to do is curl up and never face reality.

Sunday, March 18, 2007

Purging is Disgusting and Blood is Beautiful

Purging is disgusting. Your nose runs and there is vomit all over everything. Your face is within inches of what ever toilet is around. If there is no toilet, you will take what is available--out back behind the barn, in your trash can, wherever. Your knuckles will bleed. Your throat will burn and bleed in due time. Your stomach will cramp. Eventually, your stomach will learn to vomit on cue and you will be sick, whether you want to be or not after every meal. You will eat only when you know you can purge. You will think about food all the time. You will gain some sick sense of pride in your ability to purge on command. What in god's name gets me to continue doing so?

Blood, on the other hand, holds some mysterious beauty. You will hate yourself for it, but you will be intrigued by the ribbons of red warmness. They will sooth your anxiety. They will bring you back from the depths of depression. The sting will bring you back from the edge of suicide. Over and over again. You will be very ashamed however. Long sleeves and long pants always. Foundation all over your arms to try as hard as you can to make the scars invisible. You, however, will always see the lines screaming at you. You will love it and want it, as much as you hate it.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Somebody let me out of my fucked up mind!

I am crazy. Period. I do not like it; I feel like my mind is beyond my own control. Even as I make steps toward recovery, those steps are "superficial." They are behavior based. I have not hated myself more in a LONG time. Every day, the self-hatred is overwhelming. I have trouble motivating; I am a very motivated person, I just am not seeing why I should bother to get out of bed. I know the day will be terrible before I get up and I know all that will come of it is more and more self hatred and more behaviors. WHY BOTHER?! I do not feel the same way about doing a lot of the things I love. Um, horses and econ drag me a little out of this semi-catatonic state, but other than that, I feel really blarg.

Fuck it! Just fuck it all!

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

I may still think. . .

  • I need to lose weight.
  • I would be happy if I lost weight.
  • Food is bad and I am bad for eating.
  • I would be better off dead than obese.
  • I need the ED to continue functioning.

BUT, I no longer think that I am currently f*t or obese. For the first time in my life, I am aware of the fact, with varying strength, that I am not f*t or obese. It feels weird, but good (most of the time.)

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

It has been forever since

I had these thoughts. Since high school. Damn. I am scared. Of what? Of me. You see, Dr. B. said he thought the razor might hurt, but in reality, it hurts very little. I do not know what is going on in my head, but let me assure you, it is fast approaching the point where it will kill me. At least I know the razor does not hurt too much.

Monday, March 12, 2007

Sometimes I just want to gallop away. Usually, though, I simply need a gallop.

Friday, March 2, 2007

Vitriol and Virulence

I keep making the choice. I know how to not b/p. I know how to starve very well and I know how to starve myself right into a b/p episode. I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO EAT LIKE A NORMAL HUMAN. It's frustrating. I know I have a lot of training, in a lot of different areas. But for all that training, I know now how do some of the more fundamental things of humans. Intellectual chatter? Got it, down pat, no sweat, I can rattle of intellect until the end of time! But the things most humans are so good at--saying mine, look at me, I need that, I want this--I am very inept at saying. I do not know how to say "I need. . . " (fill in the blank).

Granted, it is awkward to have to say "I need you to not talk about weight" or "It would be really helpful if you would just give me a hug." (BTW, Dr. B. is so right, as much as I hate humans, I am desperate for a gentle touch.) My T and I have a program set up to help me learn how to say what I need/think/want but it is much different in a 12x12 office than it is in the real world. I do not know anything about being normal.

People often tell me to think about life before the ED, before I hated my body, before I hated myself and try to remember how much better that time was. I never understand such advice because I have not the foggiest recollection of such a time. I looked at my ankles today and just stared; they say it all: I hate myself, with amazing vitriol and virulent passion.

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

How did this whole idea get so hard and so scary and so complicated? When I started down this road, I was not expecting this battle to be as much of a roller coaster as it is. I really was expecting a linear trajectory toward wellness, but the further I get into recovery, the more I realize the trajectory is anything but linear. New behaviors crop up, I slip, I relapse, my mind goes crazy. My trajectory looks like some function that spirals around, with a couple sine curves and cosine curves tossed in. I am rather frustrated by it all.

I am not particularly interested in giving up on recovery. I have been fighting very hard in the last couple days and I am exhausted. I am always fighting. I very much want to recover, but I am so tired and often very discouraged. Where do I go now and how to I help myself understand me?

Monday, February 26, 2007

For Five Minutes. . .

For five minutes today, I was okay with myself. I have not the foggiest idea what to do with that or what to do with the fact that I hate myself again. But for five minutes I was contented. I was okay with the fact that I was in recovery. I was not incessantly berating myself about my weight or body image. I was just content with the fact that I had given myself some downtime after my appointment and I took a brief nap. Just enough to let myself relax out of the stress of the appointment. I have some serious challenges ahead, I know I do, but I am willing to do this. Despite the excuses and the buts, I am willing. I am still uncertain about the able part of the equation, but I am willing.

Sunday, February 25, 2007

Get the voice out of my head!

Thanks to Dr. B's rant on Wednesday and his lovely little indirect comment to my weight, I have been on an ED plunge for the past four days. I am slowly pulling myself out of it, but his voice is still stuck in my head, only my ED has taken what he said and multiplied it by 100. FAT, FAT, FAT RACHEL!!! is just screaming in my head. SCREAMING!!! And I do not want to hear it anymore. Frankly, I am exceptionally annoyed by it, but I absolutely believe the voice. Even the N said I was slightly above normal weight. WHAT THE HELL???

It is so frustrating to have the real world exist when I want everything to be neatly set up to help me recover. Ain't going to happen, I know, but it would be so nice to have everybody know to not talk about weight or food. It would be nice to have all "safe" foods around, both for purchase and in my room. But I do live in the real world, I just do not know how to recover in it.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

A Univariate Existence. . .

I have come to realize something recently. Despite my deep distaste for being sick and my desire to recover, I am not really. The behaviors are getting worse. WTF??? Well, think about this for just a second; imagine life as a univariate existence, where only one thing matters. ONLY ONE! There are not relationships; there is not the risk of involving oneself with many realms of life. There is just this one realm of life.

Guess what? I have that one, singular variable world. My life, my actions, everything I can conceive of can be reduced to food/weight. Think, I take a test and fail miserably. What happens? I immediately define that in terms of weight. For some unknown logic, I think that if I become skinnier, if I can see my hipbones jutting out of my skin, something will be better. (And to think I just heard Dr. B. chatter about lousy thinking.) My weight, or whatever I perceive it to be without a scale is my identity. . . and I have to figure out how to change that. I do not want my life to be dictated by a single perception of weight, or even a reality of weight. I acknowledge the role of physicality, but I really do not think I have much reason to fear that my weight will ever be out of control upwards. I do have good reason to fear that it will be out of control downward.

Anyway, it has been a very depressed two days. I hate birthdays; they are no more than a marking point for me. Oh, I turned twenty. . . so, congrats, I have been obsessing about food and weight for ten years and been ed/0-ed for seven. That's all it is to me; another day with the same fucking shit going on and I still cannot escape. How pathetic. Hopefully, I will write more because I really need to be a lot out, but for now I have to get ready for IMPACT.

Monday, February 19, 2007

And when after seven years of binging, barfing, cutting, starving, and rage, and loathing, and terror and medical scares and personal failures and loss after loss, when after all this, I am twenty and staring down a vastly abbreviated life expectancy, and the ED/SI still take up half my body, half my brain, with their invisible eroding force, when I have spent the majority of my life sick, when I do not yet know what it means to be "well" or "normal," when I doubt those words even have meaning anymore, there are still no answers. I will die young and I have no way to make sense of that fact.

I have this: I could be skinny.


~Adapted from Wasted by Marya Hornbacher

Sunday, February 18, 2007

Digging and going nowhere

I really do not know what is going on with me. . . I hardly even know what to say.
  1. I think I am really afraid to give up the ED/SI because I do not know what the other side looks like. How would I be? I would not be the person I am now; rather, I suspect I would be radically different. I am so scared, for some reason, that giving up the ED means giving up who I am and losing some "essential" part of my identity. In my rational world, I do not even believe there is much essential about me. I really think I am a product of not just internal, innate factors, but also of social interaction, relational experience and cultural exposure. The ED is not necessarily part of that, but the ED is the product of that. Being recovered would be no different than developing the ED, a product of social and innate forces, relational experiences and new exposures. But this is more of an issue with the SI because the SI does something that makes my life real, makes my experience real and tells my story. Those scars, they mean something. There are reasons some are criss-crossy and some are words. I hate to think that I lose that communicative method. I simply do not think my voice is likely to be as effective at making my experience real for me.
  2. I am not post the "I would rather be dead than fat" phenomenon. I would rather be skinny than alive I think. I am aware of just how much the idea of starving is purely a "look, I am sick" communication, but do you have any better ideas about how to convince people who have no respect for my voice that I am sick? A BMI of 15 would do it, you think? I think it would. But there is a lot else going on about why I want so desperately to be skinny. Success, strength, discipline, control. PERFECTION.
  3. So, in that case, why am I b/p'ing all the time? What do I get from that? I get it all out. All my indiscretions, all my imperfection, all the out of control-ness. Food is representative of all that is wrong, all that is imperfect, all that is evil and I can get it all out. It is amazingly powerful to have that much control over one's body. A sad powerful and a dangerous powerful. My chest squeezes and I have been known to purge blood, but look at the power. Internal bodily functions at my control. Amazing!
  4. For those of you who have not considered the soothing effect of these behaviors, do not underestimate how comforting and soothings the ED/SI are. Warm blood is amazingly comforting and beautiful, even as it symbolizes all that is wrong with me and all that I cannot handle. Starving, oh my, the ultimate peace really. The perception of not being at the will of anything, not even food, not even the body. Just a calm that pervades everything. The ED thoughts about calories, weight, fat all provide such a lovely focus that eliminates all the outsides stressors. Life is made easy, reduced to such numbers. It is like econ, only more so! When the world becomes too overwhelming, too unjust, the numbers are true and simple. The numbers remain, the food is constant and there too are my thoughts.
  5. I can control behaviors, do not get me wrong, I can. But I am so afraid that I will be perceived as somehow instantly well if I stop. They are not everything that makes me sick. If I stopped the behaviors before I was truly well, I would be really worried that I would just set myself up for another relapse like this one. Until I have good strategies, good relapse prevention skills and resources, until I think I can do this alone, I do not want people, support, to go abandoning me, so I do not want to stop behaviors.
*sigh* That was quite long, but nice to get it out.

Friday, February 16, 2007

How can it be so clear. . .

and I still ignore it? I KNOW I DO NOT WANT TO DIE FROM THIS!!! I KNOW I COULD!!! I KEEP USING BEHAVIORS!!!!! What the hell is wrong with me? I hate it when people say this, but why do I not just stop?? I know, I know, because eating disorders are not like walking; I cannot just stop and be normal. The ED/SI still serve a purpose for me; I just wonder what it is. Yes, a voice and a way for me to feel as though I have some control over my body. But those all seem so awfully insignificant. I guess the are not.

Back to the original point. How can I see so clearly what is going on and not fix what is going on?? I know and I can psycho-babble everything for the ED, but I refuse to let it go. This is not to say there is not work I need to do, lessons I need to learn, but I should have some level of agency over whether I eat or whether I binge or whether I purge. Why do I always use that agency in the wrong direction??

Thursday, February 15, 2007

Two very important things to remember

My professor/mentor person said two very important things tonight; they really hit home for me. . . .
  1. Be assertive!! So much unhappiness is caused when people do not say what they think because they are afraid. He said of "no" but I think I am afraid of much more than "no." I am afraid of being perceived as "wrong" or "bad" or "stupid." But I probably will not be, and if somebody does perceive my voice in that way, should I really care? Dr. B. is right; so much of my unhappiness is the result of me not saying what I am thinking. Especially when I think I should say what I am thinking. Sometimes people might even think what I have to say is slightly insightful. Moreover, people tell me that almost everything I say has some level of merit, and is more often than not insightful. "The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, but wiser people so full of doubts." That quote from Bertrand Russell does not quite hit the nail on the head, but close. I am so aware that what I say should not and is not be considered gospel that I rarely speak what I think. Just because something is not perfect does not mean it is not useful. UP has taught me so much about perfect imperfections; I need now to simply remember the value of such perfect imperfections.
  2. I literally could die tomorrow. Dr. B. was talking about how Dr. SK. retired after a colleague died on the tennis courts and how one of the higher ups at Res-Life died suddenly at 48 recently. And he was talking about how we should live everyday as if it is our last. Oh, did that really hit home. Every time I purge, I could easily set the electrolytes in my body so far off that I could have a heart attack and die right then and there. Every time I purge, I could rupture my stomach and die right then and there. Every time I cut, I could nick the wrong vessel/artery and die. Every time I use a behavior, I put my life in danger. I do not want to die that way. I do not like the chest pain I get when I purge; I do not like the headache and lasting eye pain when I purge. Most of all, I do not want to die, not while I purge, not when I cut and definitely not from something that is not completely beyond my control. I can stop this; I do not have to placing my life in danger on a regular basis; I do not want to either. Why do I continue to do so???
Anyway, they really hit home, so I wanted to get them out. They tell me that is healthy!

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

What I want to say

I want to say things. I want to have a voice, but I do not know how to say what I want to say. . . To say, to speak seems so foreign. I am such a well-trained, demure and submissive girl, who knows her proper place is to be seen and not heard. I know some of what I want to say, but I hardly know how to say it. . .

I want people to know I am not perfect. I try really really hard, deathly hard, but I am not. I need help sometimes. Sometimes I need to be encouraged, sometimes challenged, sometimes I simply need hug and sometimes I need quiet and alone time. I know I hate the fact that I need, but I do, damn it. . .

I want to say how I am not absolutely strong and there are moments where I cannot be everything for everybody. I want to be able to use my voice to tell people to give me alone time sometimes. Like with my roomie, I want to be able to use my voice to say how I want a little bit of "Rachel time" every night. When I crawl into bed, I want to be able to read quietly, journal, whatever. Basically, the underlying principle that I want to get across is that I want to use my voice to set some boundaries for other people and I want them to be more fulfilling than ISOLATION.

I want to be able to say how much I wish I could love my family. I would love to have a family I love as much as my profs, as much as I love the , but I cannot. There will forever be a disjuncture between my family and I. For as long as I have a love for horses, for as long as I have a history of ED/SI, for as long as I try to have an voice. I wish I did not have to have this type of relationship with my family, but I will always have such a relationship and I must be able to say this, just to make it real and stop it from attacking my body.

I want to be able to speak my opinion. I want to be able to find my opinion. I do not know what my opinion is and I want to be able to say it. I want to be able to use my voice to talk about what I think and be able to have a discussion about something I THINK. Even if I change my opinion after the discussion. I really want to be able to say that this is mine, I think this, and this is why.

I think I want to be able to use my voice to say how I feel. I want to have words, have a language to say what I am feeling. I hardly I know not what to call emotions and I know not how to say them. I want to say "I feel right now. is what it feels like." Right now I feel worried because I slid, just an itty bitty bit of my MP today and I really think that sliding makes me a failure and I worry that I must continue to fail.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007


Wow, today was insanely stressful and I am just exhausted. Lots of stuff was going on and I do not really know what to do. . .
  • I had a lot of trouble eating early today. I really was stressed about the university week from hell that is headed my way and I am really overwhelmed. I really doubt my ability to do a lot of things I have to get done and I just want to shrink down into nothingness.
  • To boot, I feel really, really alone right now. I was so excited about my MP on Saturday and I do not know how to get that across, how incredibly huge that is for me. Maybe tomorrow. . . even though I already want to restrict.
  • I had an appointment with the ED specialist and, wow, I was honest, but she really does not know what my T had in mind when I was referred. Maybe meds? I would be okay with that. Anyway, the appointment was long, and exhausting and frankly, I am sick of being sick. It is an exhausting process to be sick. . . to be continuously (and I mean continuously, not continually) pushing emotion down, behind the ED/SI. I do not know now not to be sick, but I am tired of it. I am sick of meeting new Tx people and giving them my life story and trying to let them understand how crazy I really am. I do not want to be sick anymore. I really wish I could figure out how to be well thought. What the hell does that mean? I have no idea what being well or being healthy would be like or what it would involve. I have been sick for so long, seven years, that I do not remember what it is like to be well, to not have every little thought consumed by food and calories and f*t. But I wish I did.
  • And in all the stress I b/p-ed. It is so frustrating. I don't want to do that anymore, but I do not know now to not do that. . . *sigh* And the idea of SI is running across my mind right now. . .
  • I just feel so unheard. There are things I want to say, I want to scream about how I do not want to be sick any more and how I want health and how scared I am and how every little scar on my ankles, the scratches on my knuckles represents something I could not figure out how to say with words. Honestly, the entire day has been overwhelmed by the "that which I do not know how to say with words, I scream with my body." How do I learn how to use my voice and use words? Nobody is hearing my body, but I see no hope in them hearing my words either. (Clearly, I do need the rhetoric training!)
*sigh* I do not know what to say. . .

Monday, February 12, 2007

That which she cannot say with her voice, she can scream with her body.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

A Big Step

I finally did something I needed to do today. I ate, right on my MP, every three hours, no more, no less, and kept my food diary. I had a little discussion with myself today about how I am not constrained by the MP, even though it feels as though I am. I am constrained by the ED. I do feel a lot of things right now about the MP, but I honestly do feel proud. I feel as though I am finally going somewhere on this road. And I know better than to try to challenge this and test myself. I just need to settle in, right here and start to dig through some issues.

Saturday, February 10, 2007

A Little Dose of Reality

Sarcasm will be the death of me yet

I am a sarcastic little bitch. I really am. And it will be the death of me. I get so sarcastic about the ED/SI. I get so sarcastic that I do not treat it as serious as it is. I laugh and scoff it off instead of treating everything as though it is important. Look, I do not know how to explain this, but I use sarcasm as a defense mechanism and escape from the pain of the ED/SI by being sarcastic. It is not a healthy way of dealing and I really think it is going to harm me in the long run. If I cannot learn to face the reality of bulimia and cutting head on, I will not ever move to recoverED.

The other current stumbling block is that for some reason I feel as though I can stop anytime I want and I am in complete control of the ED/SI. I know that is a fucking lie! I cannot just stop anytime I want. I am not in complete control of these behaviors. I may ultimately be in control, but I am not entirely in control. And I hate it.

I am just so frustrated with myself for not being "perfect" in recovery. There is not perfect in recovery and I know that. . . but I let myself walk right into dangerous situations because I think I am somehow more able than normal ED/SI individuals to put myself in bad situations and overcome. I KNOW I NEED the fucking MP and I KNOW I cannot let myself go off of it, but I do, on a regular basis. Because I am in control of the ED (can you hear the sarcasm?).

How do I learn how to submit to the help I am being offered? I simply rebel against it.
How do I learn how to actually fight the urges? I simply "hope" and give a little try to prevent them.
How do I learn how to love myself and my body? I simply have incredible amounts of distaste for them.

God, I am in one hell of a place right now. I am going to journal before bed and if I need 8 pages, damn, I will fill them. I do want to try again tomorrow, despite the hellish way I feel now.

Friday, February 9, 2007

I tried. . . and I will try again tomorrow

“Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow.”

And I will, I really will. I do not know why today seemed so inexplicably rough, but it did. I had trouble eating and I had trouble not eating. I was either trying desperately to get away with not eating or feeling driven toward a binge. I have been SI-ing a lot recently, so I think that might have been setting me up for trouble. I guess I feel a little apathetic about recovery, not that I do not want recovery, but I am a little lazy when it comes to doing the hard, uncomfortable, sit with the feelings work.

One thing that I have been noticing is that I feel very full. My old pastor emailed me and telling me about the empty feeling without g-d and how if I wanted to fill that hole I should believe again. Okay, I will remember that when I feel empty, but that is the last thing I feel right now. I feel full, like everything is ready to boil over. My mind feels overwhelmed, not by work or by life, but by emotion. They are there, at least I have come to the point where I know they exist. But I am still willing to quickly condemn them to the attic and my attic is starting to get full. My T was talking about how recovery is going to require me to let them in the same room as I am, but first, I have to figure out how to deal with them one at a time and let them go. If I cannot let them go, all that is going to happen is that all the noise in the attic is going to be in my living room. . . and then all hell will break loose. I guess I should work on that, huh. . .

By the way, friend, if you have not guessed yet, I did not make it to forty minutes. I did however, manage to sit with the feelings for about five more minutes (the longest I have ever sat with those feelings) and then I "had" to go p. Sorry, next time I will shoot for 8 minutes. . . or I will just not be so dumb as to eat ice cream. Why I have so much trouble realizing that ice cream is THE TRIGGER FOOD. I have lots of trigger foods, but ice cream is by far the worst. I do not think I have kept ice cream down for, oh, five or seven years. Definitely something I should not eat again until I am much, much more steady in recovery.

But tomorrow is a new day and I refuse to allow today's failings to define tomorrow's existence. I can follow my MP and I can keep my food diary and I can reach out for support as it is needed. "I will try again tomorrow."

Thursday, February 8, 2007

Interesting Day. . .

Mhmm, I am not even sure what to say. The day has been hectic, I have slipped off my MP a couple times and there were a couple little binges, but nothing major. (Perhaps it is poor judgment of me to say nothing major). . . Well, at least nothing major ED-wise. I cut my ankle pretty good and I really kinda feel the urge to cut right now. There are a lot of emotions, about my roommate, my old paster, humans, IMPACT, life in general. I really do not know.

I have been working SO MUCH harder since the Dr. B. thing, almost out of spite for my ineptitudes. I realized in that moment, the ED is pulling me back by the throat. I cannot have the relationships I want if I use the ED as a way to get through life. I have to use better, more productive coping strategies. When most people were developing social skills, late childhood/adolescence, I was doing just the opposite. Isolating myself and developing an ED/SI. I do not know how to accept the affection from Dr. B. any more than I know how to speak Russian. I know how to cut, how to purge, how to starve. . . and how to convince myself those things are all justifiable. But not how to laugh, cry, feel warm and fuzzy, love, be grateful, get excited. Disappointing, I think.

I do, however, have no intention of continuing to be disappointed in myself. Honestly, no more! I am going to force myself to learn these skills and if it means falling on my face over and over again with Dr. B. or anybody else, I think I am prepared to take that risk. . . So, what the hell, I am leaping!

Monday, February 5, 2007

They Tell Me. . .

They tell me I am smart. They tell me I am the best of the best. They tell me I have potential. They tell me this is a choice. They tell me I can stop, I can control this, I can recover. They tell me I am not fat. They tell me using my body does not work. They tell me I am unique, promising, elegant, the ideal IMPACTer. They tell me I am motivated. Hard working. Diligent. Ambitious. They tell me to eat. They tell me to love myself. They tell me. . . I think they lie; I know they are right.

Saturday, February 3, 2007

As Good as I Treat My UP

Today, while I was at work, I was explaining to a client how we "baby" horses when their emotions start to raise. When horses get scared, anxious, happy, hungry, depressed, we have ways of "babying" them through the emotions. We have ways of helping the horses learn to deal with situations of high emotional stress. And I thought, it is amazing how much better I treat my UP (my horse) than I treat myself. How I treat him, how I treat myself and how he would treat me if he could seemed something to work out.

I treat my horse with the utmost respect and care. I always brush UP when I go to see him and when I brush him, I do not tug on the tangles without respect to his nerve endings; I slowly work out the tangles with conditioner. I talk with UP while I brush him, about how he feels, if he is cold, I check for any sort of injury. I would certainly never inflict injury upon that body, despite the fact that UP has an imperfect body. I would never allow anyone to neglect any injuries he may incur; I would care for them daily, with the utmost respect for his body.

I always play a little bit with UP before I ask him to let me ride, preparing him to handle the emotions that come with a workout. I am gentle with him and I try not to have unrealistic expectations for him. I certainly do not expect him to be perfect everyday. When I get on and ride, I never expect more from him than he can do. I never ask him to work harder than his body is prepared to do. I always ask him to warm up accordingly before getting into the difficult, new work. All the emotional and physical preparation is meant to help UP deal with all the new emotions and new stresses of learning.

I carefully take care of UP's nutrition. I meticulously choose a diet for him, making sure it changes with the weather and changes with his activity level. I try to make sure there is a healthy level of roughage and concentrate. I try to supplement his diet to some of the bodily stressors he has. I make sure he gets MSM on a daily basis to help his joints work smoothly. I do not obsess about his weight or shape; I obsess over his health.

I do not expect perfection from UP. I expect perfect imperfection from UP and I greatly value these perfect imperfections a great deal. They are an opportunity for me to learn. I do not expect him to meet any social ideal about what a horse should be. I expect UP to be my friend. I do not expect UP to handle emotions as if they were easy. I expect UP to need support and I am willing to be that support.

UP is willing to be my support and he would treat me as well as I treat him if he could. If UP could be my owner, UP would try to take care of my emotions and my physical health. UP would love it if I would allow me to treat myself as well as I treat him. When I can treat myself that well, UP and I would be so much closer; we would be truly as one. As close as we are now, the ED/SI is always an issue he has to help me with and I never let him. Mutuality would be so important to our relationship. If only I would treat myself as well as I treat my UP.

Friday, February 2, 2007

Dragging myself kicking and screaming

Yeah, so that sums up my day. . . I started off restricting and I was a little lightheaded during yoga on account of the, oh, 400 calories I ate in the morning not really doing a good job running my bodily process. It felt good, it really felt good to be hungry--so controlled. But I know I have to drag myself, as much as I kick and scream, to food sometimes. . . and sometimes away. But lookie, I ate dinner. I probably ate the N-mandated minimum of 900-1000 calories, but I am sure I did not keep my MP the way I NEED to, but I did much better after about 7:00. With NO b/p-ing (something I tend to do when I try to make up for restricting in the evening).

Okay, so the big thing. . . I feel the ED/SI coming up to me. I hear their calls, the soft whispers of comfort and security. The warm feelings and the highs of independence. Most of all, I hear the loud calls of self loathing and body alienation. I really do have this deep seated HATE for my body. Maybe it is because I perceive my body as having betrayed me. Maybe I am a little angry with my body for giving me a place to live. I would kinda like to be invisible and having a body does prevent that. I am so easily made angry by my body and I am still slightly in the dark about how to deal with that. I just want to place those labels on my skin, so they are there, even people who are too dumb to realize all my faults will be able to see them, right there in English. To write that out seems so fucked up and it is, but like my T said, I am unsure I am willing to let all the associated feelings into the room and sit in the corner, I do not know how to deal with them; I am much more comfortable sending those feelings into the attic and dealing with them in the dark.

This is a frustrating battle, but I will try to keep fighting the war. I am so scared I will not win and will find myself utterly condemned.

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Looking Up, I hope

I feel like I am going in the right direction again. Toward recovery. I am scared too, that I will slip up again or that I will do something to royally screw this up. Or, that I am just having easy days and I am not really doing any better; the circumstances just happen to be better. But here I am, eating a bad food, not feeling extremely guilty, just "average" guilty maybe and thinking about how I really might recover from this.

I am willing to try. I make no promises, but I am willing to try.

Monday, January 29, 2007

I will be something more than the ED

Right now, I am scratching and clawing my way to avoid b/p-ing and trying to eat according to my MP. I know, like I have said before, the road to recoverED will be difficult and long. But I know I want my life back. I want to be more than the bulimia, the anorexia, the self-loathing. I want to be a rider, a true equestrian. I want to learn and have the energy to be curious. And I will do what it takes to beat this disorder and I will achieve.