Elliptical

We bought an elliptical machine maybe a week + some change ago. I was both thrilled and scared. I'm thrilled because when I work out I feel better. I feel energized. I feel strong for having worked out. I feel scared though. Scared that I'll just substitute working out for food.

That might sound totally stupid. But, I've been obsessed with being thin before and I've counted calories obsessively before. I don't want my binge eating disorder to turn into anorexia or bulimia (you don't have to throw up to be bulimic, you just have to purge your binges and you can exercise to purge). Besides the good that comes with exercising, (I have found myself wanting to binge less--a good thing), but I have also found that I have been weighing myself one to three times a day. I find that I weigh myself every morning to make sure that I haven't gained any weight. Today I agreed to have a beer with my husband (a delicious baltic porter) and then worked out for longer than I have before in anticipation of drinking it. I'm a little worried about how I'm handling this.

I'm heading up to Alaska to visit my family and I'm a little worried about gaining weight. They won't have a scale and I won't have an elliptical to work out on, so I guess I'll just have to figure out how to be normal. At least I'm aware of the issues I may have...that is a starting point. Hopefully I won't over-think it all. :-)

A Little Regression

I'm feeling a little down. I know I need to call another roofer and I haven't. I know I need to call this arborist and I haven't. I know I need to start using the new face-stuff my dermatologist gave me and I haven't. I know I need to exercise and I haven't.

I did sleep in (should I have made myself get up earlier?). I did run a bunch of errands. I did help a friend who doesn't have a car go to a grocery store (which is one of my least favorite chores and she spends a very long time shopping (2 hrs for 3 bags)). I did treat myself to getting my eyebrows waxed. I did make plans to have dinner with a friend tomorrow and brunch on Friday. I did write and mail two letters and my mom's birthday card. I did eat all 4 lbs of strawberries without any of them rotting (not all in one day!). Okay, I did some good things.

While getting my eyebrows waxed the beautician decided to tell me it looks like I have rosacea (as if I'm not paranoid enough already!) and then proceeded to tell me why her methods will cure me and are better than my dermatologist. It's a little uncomfortable to disagree with someone (or just say you're happy with the work of your dermatologist) when a woman is putting hot wax on your face and then ripping it off really fast.

Yesterday that dreaded word made me anxious and today it makes me depressed. Yesterday it unleashed a binge, today I've been pretty good. I just feel like I'm in a funk though. I'd like to get back to cheeriness, especially with the gorgeous and cool weather--that really is a delight. Hopefully tomorrow will find me pulling myself up by my bootstraps. Now it's off to putting this new medicine on my face.

Sabotoge

Not sure why I sabotage myself, but I'm pretty sure I'm doing it! I got up, exercised and was doing well with my eating. Then at 2:30 pm I had my dermatologist appointment b/c my skin is ridiculously dry, which is making it feel really tight, burning, and red in my face. I find out that all the Pierre I drink (minimum 1 bottle a day, but often 2-3 per day)is probably contributing to my problem. Apparently carbonation causes an increase in acid, a decrease in internal ph and is making my skin dry. Giving up Pierre is proving shocking. I thought water was safe--that all water was safe. Now, the one water I love is gone!

My dermatologist then said the red pattern on my face was exhibiting potential rosacea patterns and gave me a brochure which scared the mess out of me. There are all sorts of delicious foods that I'm no longer allowed to eat. Well, technically I don't have rosacea, so I can eat what I want, but that's not the message I was repeating to myself this afternoon. My doctor doesn't even know why my face is a little red. Sigh.

At this point tonight I'm no longer as freaked out. But from this afternoon forward I just thought of everything I couldn't eat anymore. Which sort of led me to eat junkish food this evening. I feel like I'm countering my workout, which sends me into a guilt-spiral. Ugh. I just need to relax. Not everything has to be so extreme.

Friends and Memories

Another step in the right direction! This weekend, my husband and I visited some friends out of town. In college we had all shared a house together and that year was one of my worst binging years on record. I had an incredibly hard time with one of our friends, who I'm now convinced has his own issues with food. At the time, though, I didn't think that and every negative comment he made about eating, bodies, beauty, etc I took personally. In defiance I ate more and more. I remember doing it as a rebellion. (To be clear, he was never making comments about me. He was commenting on his wife (who was the thinnest of us all and remains that way today)or in general. But I was incapable of not personalizing all comments.)

Here's the good news: he made an appalling comment and I used my wit and words to fight back, rather than eating. He said something about women needing their breasts fixed after having babies. His wife has had 3 children and our other friend also has 3 children. The female friend's face just crumpled at his comment (I was standing behind his wife, so I couldn't see her). I couldn't let that comment slide. I responded in such a way that he quickly said, "Geez Karissa, you know I was kidding. [My wife] knew I was kidding." At which point his wife shook her head "no" and our other friend said she didn't know. I turned to him and said, "Well, you've known me a long time, so you should know that I don't find that kind of thing funny or a joke." BAM!!

After that I became emotionally, not just intellectually, convinced that his negative body image comments have nothing to do with his wife or me or women, but everything to do with his own issues. The realization, sinking all the way in to my heart, makes me sad for him but liberated because I gave his comments too much power in the past. And if I can do that with him, I think I might find success with others too.

What am I eating?!!

I think I'm in one of my non-binge swings. I'm not feeling particularly drawn to food. I'm handling the difficult things life throws my way pretty well. I'm slowly, but actually, changing the way I think about things (perhaps examples will come later, but I want to stay focused for now on my topic). But, I think I still consume more than I need to. Am I even within a healthy caloric intake, regardless of how I feel? I have no idea. So, I'm actually going to look at what I ate today--all of it--and figure this out, taking into account that this is not a representative sampling, but it does count for something.

Breakfast
English muffin (140)
2 TBS peanut butter (190)
1.5 slices cheddar cheese (150--this is an estimate, but the website says 1 oz=115)
1 shot espresso (9)
1 cup skim milk (85)
Total: 574

Lunch eaten at Hoggy's BBQ (I really have no way of knowing b/c this restaurant doesn't have calories posted online. I emailed them, but until I hear back, I'm going to make some estimates (hopefully on the high side) based on other restaurants' listings and/or recipes.)
1 4" pulled pork sandwich: 450
1 cup (as opposed to bowl) of potato soup: 250
12 oz Great Lakes Dortmunder:180
Total:880

Dinner
English muffin (140)
1 egg (75)
1.5 slices aged cheddar cheese (150)
1 cup plain nonfat yogurt (125)
6 oz lemonade (75)
1 shot bourbon(70)
Total: 635

After Dinner
3/4 cup Jeni's Buckeye Road ice cream (I should go downstairs and look, but this is already too depressing!)
12 oz Bell's Expedition Stout (400??? These websites aren't reliable, so I don't know)
1 square Lindt's 70% cocao

Bottom Line: before I even made it to all the after-dinner treats I had consumed 2,089 calories. Wow. I'm not going any further--this is too upsetting as is. 325 calories were from alcohol drinks during the day. The entire after-dinner line-up needs to be eradicated. I don't usually drink during the day or go out for lunch--that's just because of this workshop I'm attending. So if I ate better for lunch and had no alcohol, maybe I could still have my after-dinner beer (not every one is going to be that high). Or maybe I could start savoring a shot of something in a snifter.

Things I won't give up: lattes (the caffeine & milk is very important to me, plus I drink it with no sweeteners & I feel good about that), real cheese (I'm not eating low-fat crap b/c it tastes like crap), eggs (yes, I'm keeping the yolk--it's the tastiest part!), English muffins (darkly toasted so they are crispy), and yogurt(I love dairy & I'm already down to the healthiest real yogurt you can get).

Things I can do in moderation: Alcohol and ice cream

Things I can give up: chocolate squares, lunches at restaurants, alcohol during the day time.

I'm noticing that I'm willing to give up behaviors, but unwilling to give up particular foods. Hmm...I think that's alright. When our insurance changes over in July, I think I might find a dietitian and get educated b/c I realize that I don't really know what I'm eating and how it's effecting me...that much has certainly hit home today.

Nice to Self

With an eating disorder, I find myself transfixed on how horrible I am to myself.It's not always that way. I shouldn't forget that I have been good to myself in other ways, ways not associated with eating. In late 2008 I resolved to get the courage to contact a dermatologist and get my acne treated. Of course, in my fatalistic fashion I believed I had horrendous acne that would be impossible to treat short of accutane. I read blogs from people with truly disfiguring acne (pics to prove it) and believed my face was on its way to looking that bad. In winter 2009 I went to the dermatologist, only to find out that my acne was rather mild, although deep, and all I needed was topical medicine. Silly me and what a relief. :-) By spring break of 2009 my acne had basically disappeared with light scarring on one cheek, if a camera was zoomed close. A year later and I'm scar free.

Today I walked into Curves gym. I have been reading about Curves for about a year now. I was afraid to do anything but read. Even today I had a light nervousness hit my stomach as I approached Curves. But, it wasn't scary and I think I'm ready to do something nice and transformative for myself again. I like that Curves is women-only. (Um, duh...b/c it's obvious I have self-esteem issues and working out in a traditional gym creeps me out...even when I did do that in grad school, I ran in and out of there, but never felt comfortable.) I like that it only requires 30 minutes at a time because I believe I can handle that in terms of fitting that into a regular schedule and in terms of not feeling overwhelmed. I like that all the machines and the rotation is pre-determined, so I don't have to be an expert on working my various muscle groups and I'll be less likely to skip something because "I don't feel like it." I like that there is a friendliness and openness to the gym. My aunt told me that the women in her Curves talk all the time. When I stopped in I heard women supporting each other and chatting. That's good. I need that kind of positive reinforcement. I also like that I can easily track my progress with this electronic key fob. I'm excited about that because I know that when working out, it feels tiring (yes, sometimes energizing, but not day in and day out when you are first starting)and you don't see much change immediately. But knowing that I am doing more reps or whatever this thing will tell me (I haven't actually joined yet...so this is the honeymoon, "I don't really know everything, but it sounds great" stage), I believe will be an encouragement to me.

This summer, I think I'm going to be nice to myself. I think Curves will provide me with a safe place, a positive place to grow, and some accountability and support. And I know that when I'm truly good to myself, I'm less likely to binge and beat myself up, which is the whole goal.

SNL Boradview Security Skit

http://www.hulu.com/watch/134720/saturday-night-live-broadview-security

I kid you not, all the things they are making fun of, I do actually worry about. I can laugh so hard at this skit because it hits so close to home. This is why I own a tazer. Thanks for that Christmas gift Dad--I really do appreciate it and carry it around when home alone and scared.

And just to put my crazy in context, my current home has been broken into twice and my previous home was broken into once and on a second occasion we found a squatter living in it, selling our furniture. So...I know I have a justification for being nervous.

But, eventually I need to get past this. I don't want to be a hostage to my fears and the past. I don't want this SNL skit to be about me, although I'll probably always find it funny. :-)

Flickering Lights

I am a little bit scared. Or creeped out. Lights in my house keep flickering on and off. And different rooms are losing power. Last night my bedroom lost all power and I had to flip the switch in the powerbox to turn it on again. Downstairs, today, the family room power has gone out twice...but the rest of the house remained on. I don't get it. It makes me nervous. I'm afraid I'm going to have an electrical fire or just be in the dark all night long. Neither of those are comforting scenarios.

A little thing like that sets me off. I ate two bowls of ice cream tonight. My husband is out of town. I didn't binge for my lunch-dinner meal, but I overate. The lawn guy gave me a quote for cutting wood that is way higher than what my husband wanted. I had the high school graduation today, where I have to dress in my cap, gown & hood and walk with the faculty to the stage before the students enter. All these little things add up for me in a way that I think healthy people don't have. All of them cause me nervousness from a little (graduation b/c I've done it so many times) to a lot (lights flickering, high wood cutting quote).

I think the lights flickering really bothers me because I'm most afraid that it's going to be another thing that will fall apart in my house. And I'll need to call various electricians, get estimates, pick someone to fix it, be around to let him in the house, and then deal with any horrible problems he finds while fixing it. That's a lot of stuff that I dislike doing and it feels more and more like that's how my whole summer will look. I wonder if healthy people don't jump ahead to all the "what ifs" and worst-case-scenarios. I wonder if healthy people think, "lights flicking...hmmm...I guess I should call someone and see what happens." I don't think that way. I am currently envisioning all my walls being torn apart as wiring is updated, plaster dust/chunks everywhere. I envision then having to find someone skilled at plastering to try to seamlessly correct all the destruction wrought by the electrician. I envision having to tape off room after room and repaint all the walls because just repainting where the plaster has been repaired, or even just that one wall, will not be sufficient--it will be obvious that only one part/wall was freshly painted.

So, if you wonder why I binge, now you have a little insight into the workings of my mind and why I am frequently trying to push down my anxiety and fear. I think it might take a lot of work to stop going to these worst-case scenarios, but it seems that is something I will need to work on doing.

Limited Party Angst

Along with my eating disorder, I have a little bit of social anxiety. It's a chicken and egg question that I can't answer, but in general the social anxiety bothers me more b/c I feel dependent upon other people. I can go to a party if my husband promises to stay near me, but that's not always feasible (both because that can get awkward at a party and because he doesn't go to everything I go to). Since I recognize that I have some social fears and since I believe them to be illogical, I try to force myself to attend events.

Today I attended a graduation party for two of my former students. I accepted the invite because I had mentored one of the two young men throughout high school. I wanted to support him and by my presence show him that I am proud of him. But this was an event my husband wasn't invited to (nor would he want to come) and my usual go-to school companion never taught either student, so she wasn't invited. Instead of this being a debacle, I took a few steps that made it surprisingly successful.

First, I made arrangements with another teacher to meet her there, so I knew I'd have someone to talk to. Plus, she's incredibly social and self-confident and knows all the parents, so I knew she would dominate conversations. Second, I gave myself a time limit, so I knew I had a goal to count down to should I get anxious. (I ended up staying 30 min later because I was having fun!) Third, I woke up feeling fat and ugly. I couldn't exactly change that with a snap of my fingers, but I did make some wise moves to stunt the ugliness from spreading. I chose to wear a dress that I know I look great in--I know this because I get compliments when I wear it and I look good in my brother's graduation pictures when I wore it. Wearing something I love helped me feel prettier, even though I still felt gigantic. I blow dried my hair straight, which is a good look for me (and a change after weeks of wavy air-dried hair)and I threw on some mascara. By taking some minor and easy steps in my appearance, I eliminated potential self-obsession about my looks.

When I got to the party I had a pang of fear and I certainly stayed close to my friend for the first 10 minutes. But then I found that the hostesses were friendly and welcoming (duh!) and once I started talking to the kids, it all felt normal. In fact,I didn't need to be next to my friend as the whole thing felt reasonable and normal and even a little fun. This is in marked contrast to the grad party last year where I never left my friend's side, I felt anxious the entire time and I promptly left as soon as was acceptable.

I like when I can see change in myself because sometimes I can't be too sure. But this party, held at the same house as last year (siblings, one year apart) with mostly the same people went significantly better for me. I hope to file this positive experience ahead of all the past anxiety-prone ones so that I can build my confidence and willingly step out into more social situations. I really appreciate that dealing with my eating disorder is also having positive effects on other parts of my life. It's certainly something encouraging that I can point to when I don't feel like I'm handling the eating disorder as well as I'd like.

Categories

Control. Discipline. Success. Worthwhile. Thin.

Chaos. Craving. Unaccomplished. Loser. Fat.

I see these two categories as distinct trends within our society. I see the first one as the sales pitch for happiness. I see the second one as the consequences-warning we are told if we don't buy into the first. I can't live up to the first one (I'm not sure it's healthy to, even if I could) and I'm not as far gone as the second category implies.

I find myself a mixture of the two. I used to, and still do to a lesser extent, beat myself up for what I perceive to be a lack of discipline in my eating. But that "lack of discipline" only comes because I refuse to or don't know how to acknowledge my emotional cravings (needs). I can control all sorts of situations and have discipline in some areas, leading to success (ex. 4.0 in grad school), but at the same time live in a chaotic, cluttered house (also grad school).

I vacillate between being scared to buy something and bring it into my house now because it might become clutter that will later need to be thrown out, donated, or cleaned as it listlessly takes up space (control) and then going on a clothes buying spree even though I might not wear the clothes for months because I'm not sure about them (craving). My control and craving are constantly dancing. Control and craving aren't bad in and of themselves, but the way I give in to them can be.

I do want to control my environment and myself. But somehow I do it in a really warped way that causes me fatigue, stress, unhealthy decisions, and heartache. The things that I do control, I put so much focus and energy into that I actually don't want to control anything else. I try to give 100% at school, but I come home and I don't want to make another decision, talk to another person, grade another paper or even do household chores. I want to curl up on the couch and find oblivion, which has more lately been in sleep than in food. But my issues with food have found a new route...eating more at mealtimes. I found myself at all three meals today eating past full. WHY?! Why am I doing this to myself? And here's the warped control--I felt full, I was fully cognizant of my fullness, and yet I ate more. I'm similar to the anorectic who feels hungry, knows she is hungry and ought to eat, yet limits herself to very little of whatever she determines is safe to eat. We are both controlling and punishing ourselves. Do I feel myself such a loser that I have to punish myself by eating too much?

I have made some really good strides lately. My counselor seemed genuinely proud of me for calling, arranging, and dealing with the on-going management of our lawn guy, the tree guy, and now the roofer. I kind of see that, but my focus is on the fact that my husband wanted me to attempt to negotiate away the delivery fee for our mattress and I panicked at the thought of even doing that. He dropped the demand when he saw how upset I was getting, but all I've felt since then is guilt in not trying to get out of the $38 delivery fee. I know rationally the worse thing the mattress guy could say was "no" but emotionally I couldn't handle that "no." Plus, I don't think it's unreasonable to charge a delivery fee. I wish it wasn't the case, but that's how the company wants to run and I'm willing to buy from them. Just like I think the property taxes in my suburb are ridiculous, but I want to live in my house, so I pay the taxes.

That's just a little thing. I don't know what is really getting under my skin and causing my eating issues--maybe the school year ending and the vast openness of summer break? What I do know is that I want to get to a place of even-keel, where I listen to my cravings but the cravings are less intense and I exercise appropriate (and kind) control over myself so that I can do more than just my job. I'd like to be a healthy person. The learning is in figuring out how to get there. Maybe one way is by rejecting these categories.

No man is an island, entire of itself

I learn a lot about people because, for some reason, they like to share very personal things with me. Of course this happens at school with students on a fairly frequent basis. I always assumed this was because I create a classroom environment of respect and caring. This might be the case--and explains why I've had three girls confess to anorexia and two other girls to cutting (I took the steps the ensure these girls got help), plus two boys who talk to me weekly about their lives and dating (I'm chalking this up to mentoring). But, I also have strangers confess things to me, and that makes me think that there might just be something about how I respond to people that's a little different.

My most recent stranger-confession came on Thursday night (before my body responded to the food poisoning and laid me out on Friday). My husband and I stopped at Great Lakes Brewery to watch the Canadians v. Flyers game (we don't have cable and it was a few blocks from where we had dinner). I'm sitting at the bar, drinking water and sipping on a stout when the woman next to me complements my skirt. I thank her and we banter a little bit. Then she complements my shoes and I complement hers. More banter follows. Eventually I've had four glasses of water with some stout and have to go to the bathroom, so I make my way to the basement where I find this woman standing in front of the full length mirror and she's examining herself. And I know, in an instant, that something is wrong. She's tugging at her sides and smashing her breasts down, and the woman is already small. She looks like she wants to rip her skin off and disappear. She needs help. I have no memory of what our first couple sentences were, but I remember standing in front of the open stall and just straight out saying, "I have an eating disorder."

She squealed "me too!" and mock puked. We spent an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom, as she fell apart and told me she wanted to kill herself and that she was so fat. She had already been to a treatment facility for three months because her job forced her due to her low weight (which makes me think she's anorexic, but does binge-purge too). She also showed me the scars on her arms from when she tried to kill herself (and the cuts were done the "correct" way). I told her that even though I didn't know her, I cared if she died...and if I care, she needed to imagine how many other people cared, including the guy waiting for her upstairs.

We talked about a lot of other things, all eating disorder related. I don't want to get into them. But I do worry for this girl. She wanted me phone number, so I texted her while we were still at Great Lakes. I texted her later that night, but got no response. I am genuinely worried about her. I do care what happens to her.

It was not all that long ago that I was a complete and utter disaster. It wasn't long ago that I regained my ability to discern healthy reality. Heck, there are literally days at a time where I still lose that ability (Tues & Wed of this week!)and I just try to ride them out without freaking out on anyone or myself. But I now (mostly) know when I've lost touch with a healthy reality. This girl can't see that. And I could so easily be this girl.

"No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were. Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee." ~John Donne, Meditation XVII

Ice Cream Binge

Three bowls of ice cream. I don't know why. I had a successful day. By my standards I got lots accomplished & didn't feel particularly weird. But 8 pm came around, I flipped on the tv, drank a glass of white wine and three bowls of ice cream later I finally stopped. Now I actually do feel off. But I don't know if that's because of the binge or if the binge is because deep down I felt off. Could this be a post-stress binge? Is there such a thing?

This past weekend I was in FL for one of my brother's law school graduation. Also in town were my other brother, my mom & dad (divorced) and my husband. My dad flirted with my mom to the point that we were all embarrassed. My mom flirted a bit back and was her usual kind-self. The more my dad drank, the more embarrassing it all was...and he seemed to think he needed to drink to be cool or have the nerve to flirt or something. It was upsetting. The more they are together, the less I like it. If my dad wasn't married with an 8yr old son, maybe I wouldn't care so much. But he's not getting divorced, my half-brother deserves to have his parents together even if his mom is mean to his dad, and my parents potentially getting back together now isn't going to help my screwed up childhood and perceptions.

I'm not so angry anymore, but I remember at this same brother's undergrad graduation in 2004 when my parents were civil to one another for the FIRST time since they got divorced in 1989, I was pissed at them. How could they have finally grown up enough to now to civil to one another? Why couldn't they have worked on this in 1989 or earlier instead of the choices they made? When I asked my aunt these questions she said, "Why honey...don't you know?"

"Know what?" I asked.

"They got married because of you. They were pregnant with you."

I remember my husband's shocked laughter that I had no idea. I protested...but what can you do when your parents decided to lie to you as a child and claim they were married in 1979 instead of 1980? My mom didn't look pregnant in any pictures, so there was no physical evidence to contradict their lies.

I'm sure all parents make their kids a little crazy. By and large I like mine, and of course love them. But I keep them at a distance...both physical (I live, at minimum, 4-5 hours from one and 10-11 from the other) and emotional (I might talk to them once per week). I will probably need to find a way to deal with this b/c as I type I realize how complex these issues are for me.

I held it all in and kept it all together for the weekend. I guess that now that I'm home alone (husband stayed in FL for business and is still chilling with my family) and all my duties were fulfilled this evening, I just stuffed back down a flood of feelings I've been having since Thursday. I'm actually a little surprised at myself. I knew I felt antsy and a bit freaked before I left and I was certainly on edge while there, but I thought it was done and over with. Apparently it took me three bowls of ice cream to realize there is something still bothering me. The ice cream binge certainly didn't solve the problem, but it made me face myself and begin to consider what issues I was trying to avoid.

Trending Toward Crazy

Compared to all the horrible things around the world, my day wasn't bad. But for me, it was a series of little things that eroded my self-confidence, ate at my peace, and sent me a little over the edge.

I felt fat. This happens to many people (and probably all women), but I realized that I've just started to trust myself again with judging how I look. At some point between being diagnosed and actually getting help, I realized that I could not look at myself and make any real determinations as to whether or not an outfit was flattering or if I "looked good." I purposefully stopped trying to make those judgments and focused on looking professional. I think that I've been slowly letting myself judge my appearance and today I was mean. I felt fat and I decided I looked fat. So even though I was wearing a cashmere sweater I like, pants I've felt good in before, and jewelry my husband bought me, I felt like I looked like a train wreck. Not a good way to start the day.

Then my hair conspired against me and got static-electricity crazy. This annoys me to no end, especially when I took the time to blow dry it. I forgot a hair tie, so the static was clinging to my face all day long, taunting me.

My work laptop went into a deadly tailspin and crashed into oblivion by 9 am. It was taken away by the tech crew and shipped to Dell (or somewhere) for repair. But that stupid computer has died and been resurrected 4 times in 2 years--it was just not going to happen today. Now I have to use a MacBook, which is a brand new thing that I am not crazy about. I don't want to learn how to use an Apple at the end of the school year--it's stressing me out.

Work itself was otherwise not too bad and I did get some great grading done, but in my mindset today I never gave myself credit for that.

I had a meeting after school, had to pick up/drop off dry cleaning (or else the skirt I want for my brother's graduation won't be clean), and found myself so frustrated on the road that I was screaming at other drivers (I am assuming they couldn't hear me...). When I got home and saw that it was already 5 pm, I was near tears. I hadn't called the lawn guy to tell him we aren't using him and that was bothering me b/c I'm scared to call. Also, my husband hadn't cut our lawn over the weekend, so it is still a disaster. On top of that, I have a feeling I was distorting some things my husband said about our relationship, so I was stressing and letting that run through my mind.

All these things felt overwhelming and impossible to overcome. I didn't feel like I could face anything. In total calories it wasn't much of a binge. But in my insane emotions, it totally was. I ate a bowl of chocolate ice cream and peanut butter, in bed, and then made myself take a nap. Every time the phone rang, I'd silence it and wished I could shut out the world. I had a nightmare about my dad, stepmom, and tacky patio furniture they bought. I woke up mad that I couldn't keep sleeping--that I had to face the remainder of the day. So, I ate an avocado.

Eventually my husband came home and I talked to him about some of this stuff. In talking to him I realized that I'm also very anxious about seeing my family again in this upcoming weekend. I think maybe that fear/anxiety is pushing my feelings over the edge so everything else takes on more importance than it should. Regardless, I am certainly trending toward crazy. I am just hopeful that I can make it until my counseling appointment on Wednesday.

Unhealthy Substitutions?

Ever since I was diagnosed with BED I've wondered if, in overcoming one problem, I would pick up another--mainly alcoholism. I like alcohol and I drink on a fairly regular basis. It's available, like food, and it's socially acceptable (until you reach the point of alcoholism). I have on very few occasions drank more than is reasonable. I've decided, though, that the answer to this query is no.

For starters, going to counseling continues to teach me healthy and mature ways to deal with binging. I'm substituting disordered thoughts/behaviors with healthy behaviors--and over time I'm building healthy thinking, as well. This is working out surprisingly well for me. I truly like the improvements in my life and the person I am becoming. I don't feel (emotionally or logically) like substituting one unhealthy behavior (alcohol abuse) for another unhealthy behavior (BED).

Secondly, while I greatly enjoy the flavor profile of many types of adult beverages, I don't like being drunk. I don't enjoy my head hurting, rooms spinning, waking up congested or throwing up. I might have eaten my way to the point of making myself ill and been okay with that sickly-satisfying feeling of absolute fullness, but I really hate anything that makes my head, sinuses, throat or face hurt (hence why I'm awake and typing at 4:35 am b/c of my allergies). Alcohol hurts my head-region and that's just not cool. So, alcohol doesn't bring me the satisfaction or "right" kind of oblivion that I got from binge eating and would make a poor substitute.

Alcoholism runs in my family. It's a legitimate concern for me. I will continue to monitor myself for this and other destructive behaviors. But I am pleased to know that after searching myself, I can honestly and confidently say that I will not be substituting alcohol for binge eating. Another little victory--and I'll take those anywhere I can get them!

The Yard

I woke up a little after 2 am with images of my unkempt yard running through my head. Maybe if my allergies weren't so horrendous right now, I could have calmed myself down and gone back to bed. The sneezing and running nose were not conducive to calm though, and the anxiety built.

One of the differences between now and last year or basically any other year in my adult life, is that I am overcoming some major fears to try to deal with this anxiety, which often leads me to binge. For one, my husband gave the go-ahead on hiring someone to mow the lawn. That's HUGE b/c he does not value landscaping and has protested for years about paying someone to mow. My job was to call companies & get estimates. This is where another fear of mine manifests itself. I dread talking to people I don't know on the phone (and sometimes I get in a funk and dread talking on the phone to people I do know). When I was little, I was paralyzed with fear and couldn't call to order a pizza or make a hair appointment. By college, when of course one has to be able to order a pizza on the phone, I would write down all the information that I would be required to give before I even made the call. Yes, I literally wrote down my name, my phone number, my address and what kind of pizza I wanted. If I didn't do that, I would completely blank when asked those very simple questions.

I don't remember when it started, but sometime in my mid-20s calling businesses scared me so much that I couldn't do it until I had binged. And then frequently I still wouldn't call. So day after day I would binge to "get the courage" to call and then I would pass out and when I woke up, I'd reason that the business was closed and I'd have to try again tomorrow. Many, many things did not get done in a reasonable amount of time. A little over a year ago a tree fell in my side yard and I quickly got the name of a reputable tree-guy from a friend. Then I didn't call. Spring, summer, fall, winter, spring...finally, this late April I called. You know what? I called without binging. I was scared out of my mind. I did put off calling for weeks once the thought that, "hey, I need to freaking take care of this dead tree" entered my mind. But I didn't binge before I called and I actually called.

That's a triumph. I should be proud of that. I have been beating myself up for not calling about something I should have taken care of a year ago. But, I had to overcome an almost debilitating fear to make this happen. A fear that since childhood has gone from not-calling at all, to binging and then maybe calling, to binging and calling, to just being anxious and then calling. That's freaking progress!

On to the yard...my current enemy. I have been calling lawn services. Literally, I have been looking up companies/numbers online and in the phone book (both of which, by the way, suck...I feel like I might need to take a day off from work and creep through neighborhoods, write down the names of these lawn service providers b/c they are stenciled on the side of their trucks, but not in the yellow pages!). Then I call. And I've done it without binging and relatively reduced anxiety. My new problem is that 1) the company doesn't come "all the way out" to Cleveland Heights (and these are East Side companies!). 2)No one answers the phone, I leave a message, no one calls back. 3)Three companies actually talk to me, promise to come evaluate the property & give me an estimate, but then they don't follow through. 4) The only company to supply a quote wanted $315 a month to mow the lawn, plus they wanted fertilizer put down at $90/month, plus they needed to "spring clean" it first ($450), plus they wanted $150 for the first mow. Yea...that's not happening. At those prices (which don't include tidying the beds or trimming bushes/trees), we'd be spending more on our lawn this growing season than on our heating. That's just ludicrous.

However, because they were the only company to give me a quote, I wanted to go with them...until my husband and I talked. The thought of having to call the other companies and ask them why they haven't called back freaks me out for a couple reasons. 1) I just got over my fear and called them, but now I have to call again?! 2)It's a business! They should be calling me back. Do they have so much work that they just can't find the time to get more work or even call to say they're all booked up?

I need to call though. I can't keep waking up in the middle of the night with visions of my tall grass, overgrown flower beds, and ivy beds where I can't see the ivy anymore b/c of weeds (or are those trees?). I also don't want to stay locked in my house anymore. At some point this spring, I decided that my yard was too gross for me to be outside b/c the neighbors might make comments about it to me. (They have in the past, so this fear isn't completely neurotic.) But I'm tired of not going out. I finally articulated this to my husband tonight and he agreed to mow the lawn this weekend.

Had I not spoken up about my emotions, I know I would have binged. Calling the companies was staving that off b/c I believed that the problem would be solved soon. But knowing that I have a long way to go in this hiring process was frustrating, discouraging, and scary. My response to my husband balking at the high estimate was 100% emotional. Rather than pick a fight, (well almost...there was some heated discussion until I did a mental check on myself) I articulated my fear for the first time. Actually explaining what I felt (my home is my self-imposed prison) allowed my husband to respond in love and agree to cut the grass.

He's changing too in regard to his responses to me. I believe that in the past he would have argued that my fear and the rules I created to control it (stay in house until lawn is mowed or binge to get the courage to call) was illogical (it is, I know, but right now that's ok). Now that I can actually express my feelings, and do so before a major argument breaks out, he responds positively. I can't think of an instance where he shot me down or trampled on my feelings when I talked to him. He is consistently affirming my right to have feelings and respecting them, even when they don't make sense to him. This, in turn, allows me to feel less scared and I believe that it is slowly allowing me to overcome my fears. If I had not begun the journey of getting in touch with my emotions, figuring out how they lead to binging and other behaviors, and had the courage to express what I felt, there is no way I would be able to call about the dead trees or the lawn. I know my fears are tied up with my binging. As each fear is faced, binging has a weaker hold on me. Likewise, as I am able to let go of the binging, my fears have decreased. This might be circular logic, but it works. :-)

It's been awhile

I haven't written in awhile and I think that's partly for a few reasons. One, I've been going to counseling and I get a fair amount of my angst, anxiety, fears, and problems out in the open then. Two, I had to work on writing my feelings for the day in a journal and while that may sound like a simple act, I needed to focus my attention on that (and just recognizing my feelings in general). Three, life just got a little crazy and since I was/am a bit worried about the whole public aspects of a blog, I let it take a backseat in my life. Fourth, I've been traveling--spring break in Belgium, a beer release in Indiana, visiting family in other cities, etc. Fifth, I'm trying to focus on my marriage more, which means a concerted effort on my part to not fall into the easy, old habits of being online instead of interacting with my husband (he's away on business today).

So, are those enough excuses?! :-)

The blog wasn't far from my heart though (just like all the emails I've written in my head to my friends...sorry those haven't made it past my head yet). So, I'd like to get back to writing a bit.

Yesterday my binge eating disorder came up at lunch b/c of an innocent question that a colleague asked me. I feel comfortable/confident talking about eating disorders, in general, and I'm comfortable talking about my own BED, if someone else brings it up (this is b/c it's not exactly a conversation topic everyone can participate in & it can make others uncomfortable, so I don't just start a conversation about this topic). One thing that I am trying to be understanding about is the response I get when I'm asked what BED is and I explain it. Maybe I just do a terrible job explaining it, but afterward I sometimes find people telling me things like, "I find that if I go home I'll graze on food between work and dinner. So, I try to find activities to do so I don't graze." Or, "I know what it feels like to be stuffed." Or, "Yeah, I try to watch what I eat, but I eat more than I should." Sometimes I just want to yell them, "BED is NOT overeating (either once-in-awhile or consistently)!!!"

I have come to believe that they either willfully gloss over the psychological aspect of BED (and the reason it IS BED and not overeating)or they simply can't comprehend the psychological component. Truth be told, I don't often bear my soul (and history)about this to my colleagues, acquaintances, and not even really my friends. So, I guess explaining BED logically doesn't quite give them the picture and apparently telling them that "I used to go home and devour as much food as I could until I made myself feel physically ill and would pass out from my food-high for a couple hours, then wake up and fix/eat dinner as if everything was normal, and then buy more food the next day and eat it down to the level of food from the previous day so that no one would know I ate anything" doesn't seem to register as problematic.

Maybe it's just that until a person uses food as punishment (b/c even rewarding myself with food led to punishing binges where I made myself feel sick), they don't get it. (Or maybe they just need a huge dose of empathy.) At my core, I used food as a crutch or band-aid for all my hurt and disappointment. I also used food to abuse and hurt myself for all the failures and fears that I believed I had. I used food to silence myself from thinking and speaking. At my core, I did not believe I was worthwhile. I beat the s$*% out of myself through eating food. And since February, I've gotten serious about wanting this self-abuse to stop. But stopping the abuse that I inflict upon myself with a substance that I actually NEED, is really hard. Maybe that makes my abuse just a little more ridiculous--I can never just stop abusing this substance the way an alcoholic or drug addict can (which is also terribly difficult to stop--so that's not a dis on the hard work they have to do). I HAVE to learn how to coexist and still consume food.

On the plus side, and perhaps this really is fortunate, for me to overcome BED I MUST deal with the underlying psychological issues. Perhaps an alcoholic can walk away from alcohol and still not face her problems (although I imagine that would not make for the most fruitful sobriety). I can't walk away from food. So, if I want to get better, I have to face me.

I thought I knew me. But what I've found through counseling and reading is that I know a distorted version of me. I am starting to know and see myself with a better view because the distortions in my mind are slowly being called into question, examined, found lacking, kicked out and replaced with a healthy view of myself. As my view of myself changes, as I become truly accepting of me and can articulate that to others, I find myself slowly healing in my relationship with food. The end result of this is going to be awesome.

Full Stomach

Binging. I've been doing it for the last two days. It's not like before though. Before being, before my husband and I started really addressing our problems. I was only mildly out of control these last two days. I know, that sounds weird. I'm blogging though to help me overcome this, not because I've already overcome it. I need to start being aware of my triggers, but I'm just not sure what they are.

On both days it happened after I came home from work and after-work stuff. But I didn't come directly home on either day. On Tuesday I started to feel out of whack. I was worried about binging. On Tuesday I was busy until 9:30 pm. I ate dinner on the run (local sub shop) and ate the whole sandwich when it went beyond being full. That made me worry a bit. Yesterday, I went to counseling and talked about fighting the binge. I thought I was okay. But I came home, and even though I was full, I had been dreaming for two days about trying this new vanilla ice cream and eating jordan almonds. I almost couldn't stop eating the almonds and I had three bowls of ice cream--some plain and some with peanut butter. The sick part to admit is that I felt really good afterward. I felt calm and satisfied. I was more than full, but no where near as stuffed as I've made myself before. I also didn't feel compelled to sleep and I didn't have a pressing problem that I was avoiding. So what brought on the binge? Likewise, today, I guess I ate reasonably (when I reflect upon it in my head), but I had one slice of pecan pie and then felt like I HAD to have another. It's that overwhelming sense of NEEDING to keep eating that scares me. And I don't understand why it's happening suddenly.

Is it because Jon is out of town? Because curling is coming to an end and I don't know what to replace it with? Is it just the ridiculous hours I've been busy this week, when the earliest I've been home was a little after 8 pm? Is it because tomorrow I'm giving my principal my letter of resignation for a supplemental position that I do on top of teaching and I'm concerned about the fall-out for me and my department? Is it the recent demonizing of a colleague by the administration? Is it the helplessness I feel when I think about all the time, energy, and demands put on me by a very small minority of the students (kids on IEPs/504s) which takes away my time to benefit all students?

I'm going to sleep on a full stomach and no answers, but I feel better for articulating the things that are bothering me...even if I don't know which one(s) plays the biggest role.

Hard Day

This day got progressively harder as the hours ticked away. I can't quite place where it all started...was it when my husband left to catch a flight before I normally wake up for work? Or was it watching the documentary on Genie (by Nova) three times for my Psychology class? Was it saying "no" to a chocolate doughnut offered to me before school even started when I really, really wanted it? (Is that why I ate 2 fun-sized packs of sweet tarts, approximately 15-20 Jordan almonds through the course of the day, and a brownie after curling?!)While I don't know what might have triggered it, I do know that my emotional state was revved up in my union building committee meeting.

I left the meeting beating myself up for being overly-emotional, for not giving solutions (I might have offered some, but in my heightened state I surely wasn't giving myself any credit if I did), and for being angry at what is happening to some teacher friends of mine. I tried to tell myself that I could be nice and accepting of me, that it's okay to be upset about upsetting news, but it wasn't really working. I was also afraid that I wouldn't be able to eat dinner because the meeting ran over late and I had curling at 7 pm, with necessary stops at home (for curling clothes) and the grocery store (my team's turn to bring snacks). I left the union building committee meetings teetering on edge and decided to get a sub sandwich from a local shop to help protect myself from binging at home. I ate the sandwich in my car while driving home as if my life depended on it. I inhaled it. My growling stomach felt satiated, but my mind and emotions were still reeling.

I hoped curling would help and to some extent it did. Being on the ice with my team got my mind off the problems of the day and I ended up having a ton of fun. I don't usually eat with everyone after curling, but today I had some cheese, crackers, and a brownie. Maybe I ate for emotional reasons, maybe for social reasons (we did bring the snacks for the group), or maybe b/c I had a diet coke with dinner and the sweetness was making me crave food. I don't know, but I was kind of worried before and now I'm kind of okay with it. It's not the end of the world.

Yes, I felt out of control today. But, I did some things to help me feel better in control or to acknowledge that I can't control it all. And those things helped me stave off a huge binge. For instance, I called my husband and talked to him for 3 minutes before his flight took off this evening and just that little time helped me reconnect with him and helped ground me. I gave myself healthy food. I probably did eat more than I needed to--I felt stuffed at times, but it wasn't with junk food the way it used to be. These are the small baby steps I need to take.

I need to also acknowledge and believe that even though I had some difficulties today, I dealt with them in the way that I am currently best equipped to do this. I made it through my day. Just because some things went "off" a bit does not mean that tomorrow has to be an "all or nothing" day. Some days will just be a struggle. But it's the struggle that is building and equipping me for the eventual triumph over my binge eating disorder.

Curling

How has curling helped me with my eating disorder? For one, I can't binge if I'm not home or near food. :-) More importantly, curling helps me because it has helped change my mindset about me.

First, I happen to do better when I know others are counting on me. As I said in an earlier post about dinner: if I know my husband will be home I eat better. When he's out of town, I barely care about what I eat. Today is a great example, he's in town but I subbed for a girl in curling tonight, so I fixed him up a plate of food to microwave when he came home. Because I was fixing up a plate for him, I made one for myself and had a healthy dinner before curling. Anyway, back to curling. I know the people on my team are counting on me, so even when my mind tells me "you're no good" or "I don't feel like doing anything but lying on the couch and sleeping all day," I feel compelled to get up and go curl. Without me, my team isn't complete and will forfeit (unless I find a sub, but my negative mindset doesn't usually give me time to do advance sub planning). So, because others count on me, I show up and curl which leads to me having fun (even when we lose).

Second, curling is a VERY SOCIAL sport. The winners buy the losers drinks afterward, so this is definitely up my alley. I have met some really interesting people from various regions/countries, age groups, professions, political/religious views, etc. Meeting other people and establishing some new friendships helps me to feel less alienated. The less alienated I feel, the less likely I am to binge.

Third, curling gets me moving. I am no marathon runner (or a sprinter). In fact, outside of sports, I have not been particularly fond of exercising. I wasn't even much of an individual sports person in high school. While I did play varsity tennis, I greatly preferred (and played better) in doubles than singles. I cross-country skied my 9th grade year in AK, but I liked practices with my team, team carbo-loads, and melting the wax on our skies together more than the actual racing. With the exception of the elliptical machine, which I could work out on while reading in grad school, I haven't been excited about exercising alone. Curling allows me to have fun, while forcing me to exercise. And because I want to get better for my team, I challenge myself to sweep harder and to be more flexible and balanced when I throw the stone. It's pretty cool and I appreciate that I'm moving out there. Plus, when I move around, I am also less inclined to binge. Maybe this is because of the "natural high" one gets when moving, or maybe it's the camaraderie on the ice, or maybe I want to just be at my best for curling, but I find I don't want to just stuff junk in my mouth. I hope to somehow sustain this movement when the season ends in a couple weeks.

Fourth, curling is hard but I've had some triumphs. The amount of physical and mental control one needs to play this game of finesse is pretty high. I have found that if my head isn't in the game, my form can be perfect but I will not make the shots. If my head is in the game, chances are high my shot will be decent. I am always encouraged when I make a good shot. It helps that the culture of the sport is encouraging, so others (both on your team and your opponent) often compliment you. I like getting compliments and since I'm learning to be open to them (along with feelings and emotions), I believe and appreciate them. I like that's I've taken on a challenge and am giving myself time to develop and improve. I love that I get to play with experienced and inexperienced players and all of them accept me for me, even though my skill level is that of a beginner. As I find patience for myself with curling and can literally feel myself improving as my body remembers what the "back of the house" weight feels like v. "biting blue" v. " a guard," I realize that this patience and acceptance of myself CAN be applied to me overcoming my binge eating disorder.

Fifth, curling really took me out of my comfort zone, yet I have fond success. My husband and I signed up for the six week (free) beginners curling clinic, but due to work he only made one class. I hated going alone. I hated having to make chit-chat and quick impressions. I felt awkward, unskilled, embarrassed, and fearful every week. I worried about no one talking to me and my cheeks burned when we sat in the clubhouse and I had no one to sit next to. But I forced myself to go every week and it got a little easier. Then I had to get 5 letters of recommendation to join the club, which meant I had to "cold call" current members and ask for these letters because I knew no one. That freaked me out to no end, but I told myself that the worst they could say was "no" and anyway, I really wanted to curl and this is what I had to do to make that happen. I made it happen. Each step I took over my comfort zone that brought me success was another step toward a renewed self-confidence. I haven't yet attended a bonspiel, but I signed up for the inter-club bonspiel at the end of the season and that will be one more step out of my comfort zone. Binge eating is my comfort zone, but I know I can step out of it and be better for it, just like with curling.

For these reasons, and the sheer fun of the game, I love curling. It is the right sport, at the right time, to meet my temperament, interests, and needs. It is a help to me in curbing my binges...honestly, I can't remember a Tuesday or Sunday binge (the days I curl). I don't think this is coincidence.

Feeling my emotions

Feelings. Emotions. According to comedians, men don't have them and women have a plethora. Well, I'm a woman and I am working hard on allowing myself to having feelings and emotions. See, a big part of binge eating disorder is an inability to deal with what is emotionally going on in your life, and so you turn to food to help quell the fear, pain, sadness, anxiety, etc. Even I can logically see that binging doesn't address or solve whatever problem or emotion causes me to eat a tremendous amount of food. But, when I don't know how (or don't believe I have a right) to access my emotions, how else do I deal with a situation?

Since September, but really in the past month I have been working on allowing myself to feel life and to express my emotions. For instance, I messed up with a friend, took responsibility for my actions once I was made aware that I had messed up and apologized multiple times via email and in person. My friend didn't speak to me for about a week. I felt horrible for what I had said, which embarrassed and upset her, and I was full of angst over it. I talked to my husband about it and I cried and when I felt like binging I asked myself why I wanted to eat. This caused me to acknowledge that I was hurting and to give myself permission to hurt.

It's a weird concept, letting myself feel sadness and hurt and longing. It's sometimes very hard for me to figure out what I feel. A few nights ago my husband, on a business trip, called and as he was talking I got angry. I didn't understand why or where this anger was coming from, but it washed all over me. In the past I would have picked a fight (and I almost did this time, but he called me out on it and asked, "Are you trying to start a fight?"). I told him that I didn't understand why I was angry, but I was and needed to figure it out, so I'd call him back later. An hour later I called back because what I realized was that his call had interrupted my first blog, which was stirring up all sorts of emotions. I needed to finish blogging to restore equilibrium, and then I could call and talk. In the past, if a wave of negative emotion washed over me it would lead to a fight or to me feeling guilty for almost starting a fight or me feeling alienated because of the conversation. I would not have dealt with any of those feelings. I would have gone straight to the kitchen and started eating. This ability to step back, allow myself to feel something, try to figure out what I feel and then to take appropriate action, is all ridiculously new to me.

This new-found vulnerability is actually good for me. I think that I'm finding that the more vulnerable I am, the nicer my husband is (or maybe I'm just better able to see what has always been there). For the first 9 years of our marriage I would not have ever thought that could be the case. My husband is very logical and I thought that to be a better person (maybe even in the hopes that he would love/like me more) I worked on being more logical. Except, I was unable to be logical without killing my emotions when interacting with him. And when I almost completely killed my emotions, I felt even worse about myself, him, and our relationship. It was a vicious cycle that was leading me to eat more and more--part of me was screaming at him to notice how miserable I was, but I wasn't actually telling him any of this. It's hard for people to read minds and since I binged in secret and quickly replaced what I ate, it's not as if he saw this downward spiral firsthand. What made a difference for me was twofold. 1) He cut down on his traveling and it became very obvious that he was doing this so he could be home with me because that is important to me. 2) I felt God tell me, while I was praying, that I should make our house a home for my husband. I got the sense that this meant keeping things tidy and having food prepared. That kind of household stuff never seemed to affect him positively or negatively, but I did it. I think that it served two purposes. It showed my husband that I was trying to do something to make him more comfortable and in the process of doing it, I started to get in touch with my own emotions.

So, here I am feeling things. It's weird and it's sometimes scary. I still have to give myself permission to feel. But in taking this big step, I really seem to be helping curb my binges. For that, I'm grateful.

Remembering Jessica

Often times, with the most difficult decisions in my life, once I've made up my mind and know what I'm going to do, I'm no longer worried about doing it. Or telling others about it. It's less the action than the choice that is most important to me. Because once the choice has been made, the rest just happens. Regardless of how hard or easy living it out is, once the choice is made, there is peace.

On Sunday, February 28, 2010 I found out that a close family friend died in a car crash. She was 21 years old. No alcohol, drugs, or anything of that nature. In fact, it looks like she tried to avoid hitting a deer, but in the rain her car ended up careening over the side of a cliff. She hit a tree and died on impact.

I read an email from my mother-in-law, who is now in SC with the family, saying that this young woman felt a strong calling from God to go on a mission trip to Haiti. "Apparently Jessica had gone down the altar 2 Sundays ago and been prayed over and anointed by the pastor for a missions calling, particularly to Haiti. The church leadership had prayed together since then and decided that the church would sponsor Jess to go to Haiti and were going to tell her on Sunday. [The day after she died.] I guess Jess had just left her parent's house on Saturday night after pouring her heart out to them about her call to Haiti and them coming to some agreement as to her going."

One might ask, why would God call a person to missions, especially to a country with such a great need, and then allow for her to die before she could carry out the mission? I certainly can't answer this to anyone's satisfaction. But I do wonder if, in part, it was the decision, her personal commitment to go, that God was looking for. Maybe it isn't all about the action, but about where our hearts are and the choices we're willing to make.

Dinner

Tonight, dinner is causing me to panic. I haven't been able to latch my brain onto anything that I'd want to eat and now I'm really hungry, which sets me up to binge. "Water, water every where, nor any drop to drink." (Samuel Taylor Coleridge)Except for me, it's food. There is plenty of food in my house. Sausages to go with my homemade tomato sauce. Eggs in any myriad of ways. Actually--that's it! I'll do scrambled eggs with truffle-infused olive oil. That's delicious and a treat.

Eggs are amazing and a frequent go-to meal for me. With my husband out of town I often think that it isn't worth cooking for myself. It's a horrible thing to think because I should believe that I'm worthy of good, healthy food. I'm worthy of spending the time it takes to put together a yummy meal. But I don't often think that. Only in rare instances (when I'm on a kick to get "right") do I eat as well when he is gone as I do when he is home. I don't, as often, have trouble making something for dinner when I'm making it for him. But I have a hard time when it's just me.

But, speaking of just me...I've finished my yogurt (I love dairy and it has lots of protein, so it tides me over when I'm hungry and need a snack--like tonight, when I just successfully averted a binge by having 5 olives, a Greek yogurt, and blogging), so now I'm going to go make my scrambled eggs. Ooohh...I think I'll have an avocado on the side too.

My eating disorder background

I have an eating disorder. Binge eating disorder. It colors everything in my world. It completely affects the way I see myself and how I assume others see me. It is insidious and destructive to my mind, relationships, and body.

I have had this disorder since I was 9, but it wasn't diagnosed until I was 27. My particular form of binge eating disorder hibernates. From 9 until 14 that meant that I only binged when I was visiting my mom over summer break--and from June to August I routinely put on 15-20 lbs. When I went back to live with my dad during the school year, I would lose the weight without trying to. I didn't completely understand why I binged when with my mom, but I always felt like my summers with her were incredibly chaotic and confusing. I turned to books and binging to deal.

When I was 14 my family was moving from Alaska to North Carolina and that summer I made rules for myself about what I could and couldn't eat and at what times of day I was allowed to eat. It was the first time I started restricting. At the end of the summer I had maintained my weight and would start a new school, in a new state, without appearing fat. Of course, in my own mind, I was fat whether or not I actually gained weight from binging. In fact, I am conscious of believing I was fat from at least the first grade, when a girl in ballet asked me if I was pregnant. I remember practicing sucking in my stomach in front of the mirror by the fourth grade.

Anyway, from sophomore through senior years I lost weight and my binging subsided, as I followed my new eating rules. After my senior year my boyfriend and I broke up and that summer I ate very little, which dropped me to a significantly lower size for the first time in my "adult" life. I was complemented repeatedly, which fed into my disordered eating. I was not anorexic, as I did not weigh 15% below the acceptable weight for my height, but I had eating habits in line with those suffering from anorexia. I was afraid of fat and stopped eating most meat because I believed I could see and feel the fat in it. My freshman year in college went well, but sophomore year I began binging again when my world was turned upside down. I slowly put on weight, got married that summer, and the binging exploded. I was scared about being married and my dad's family not supporting or speaking to me. Even though I found greater success in school after I was married, the binging was on fire and it didn't end until after I graduated and started my first job teaching.

The pressure I put on myself and the terrorizing fear I felt about teaching that first year combined with a 40 day fast my church was doing to make a dangerous eating situation. For some reason I literally thought that if I fasted everything but dinner for 20 days, I would not lose a single pound. So I signed up to do that. And I lost approximately 20 pounds in 20 days. (Healthy weight loss is considered 1-2 pounds per week.) I dropped three clothing sizes and I didn't even notice it. The entire time I still saw myself as fat. I didn't notice that my clothes were hanging off of me. I was so preoccupied with teaching and eating that one meal a day, which was what I spent every free moment thinking about. I ravenously planned and guarded that time and even turned down dinner invites from friends who I thought would pick "bad" restaurants because I couldn't "waste" the meal. I finally realized that I had lost weight when other teachers and secretaries commented on it. I went home, pulled out clothes from my senior year in high school and found they easily fit me. After the fast ended, I did go back to eating other meals, but I began restricting and keeping a notebook so that I knew how much I ate and how many calories I burned while exercising. I kept this up throughout grad school too, where I also maintained a 4.0 GPA. I did one more year of teaching in NC and then we moved to Ohio.

I didn't especially want to move to Cleveland. The name of my blog, Oh, Cle! is obviously a reference to Cleveland, OH--a place I (unjustifiably) blamed for all sorts of unhappiness in my life. For a long time I thought that if we could just move back to NC, things would get better. I know that's not true. Cleveland is my home. And Cleveland is where I plan to overcome binge eating disorder, which started creeping back into my life in 2005 when we moved here. It hit full-throttle, debilitating mode soon after moving into our new home in 2007.

That late summer/fall my uncle died of a heart attack at 50, my house was broken into twice, I had a student teacher that I didn't really know how to help the way I wanted to, goals that I had in my personal life were unmet, and my husband was traveling for long stretches of time (weeks and months at a time). I didn't know how to deal with the chaos, fear, loneliness, anger, and hurt in a healthy way. So I ate. And ate. And ate. There are so many things I can say about this, and it really still feels right at the surface for me, so I'm sure I will over the course of this blog. But suffice it to say, I was eating secretly until I felt in physical pain and I would collapse asleep for 2-3 hours. Then I started fantasizing about purging. I imagined that puking up all the food would make me feel so much better, but I knew that puking was a sure-fire sign of bulimia. I knew bulimia was an eating disorder, so I finally told a close friend who is a doctor how I was feeling/eating and he told me that I probably had binge eating disorder and needed to see my doctor immediately.

From ages 9-27 I just thought I was a weak-willed, undisciplined slob when it came to eating. Now I know that I have major psychological issues that need to be dealt with. I also know that binge eating was my mechanism for emotional survival when I didn't know of any other way to deal with life. I'm trying to rewire my brain chemistry, my body, and thought process to respond to my world in a healthy way, but it is really, really hard for me. This blog is an attempt to look back at and deal with my binge eating disorder so that I can view the world, myself, and my relationships in a healthy way.