The meaning of my tears

Oh man some days just show up a bit rougher than others and today has been one of those days.  I guess I’m chugging along just fine now and I have some hope back in my corner as I walk through each next hour, but I’m pretty tired and am just kind of putting one foot in front of the other until I’m done.  I’ve cried it out once already today, and that helped me get through work, but I think I’ll need another session once I’m home. J   I’m a total crier.  It’s how I process a lot of things.  Not only do I cry at the sad, difficult and lonely times, I cry at the happy too and the exciting and the inspirational.  I believe I have proven beyond much reasonable doubt that I come by my tears biologically.  If you took a look at the reactions of women in my family, you would likely agree.  If you found a way to disagree, I’d probably wonder if you were being contrary just to be contrary, but I digress.  My tears are very comprehensive and can be an outlet for a myriad of different emotions.  I thought I would describe 20 or so different cry occasions to give you a little peak into the meaning of my tears.

1. This morning I woke up in pain and lot of it.  I couldn’t see the silver lining to my experience, and I couldn’t see hope in it.  I was unable to grab strength from all the things I CAN do.  I didn’t even want to imagine trying to get through today.  Planning any plans was impossibly overwhelming.  I cried hopeless tears.
2. On my way into work this morning I called my lovely friend in recovery.  I told her it was a very bad neck day.  I shook and raised my voice and cursed as I cried into the phone.  I said it was unfair and I didn’t understand it.  I told her I was mad at my life and at God.  I cried angry tears. 
3. Yesterday I watched the replay of the USA women’s4 x 400 meter relay win their Olympic race in London.  Tears filled my eyes as I watched them embrace each other and their families and the announcers cheered into their microphones.  I cried tears of inspiration.
4. My mom once ran a stop light in that way where we both realized she had done it only after she was all the way through the intersection and at the same time.  The look we gave each other was so priceless that we burst into laughter and were both crying through our giggles.  It was the kind of moment where you can never tell someone else and have it be as funny.  I cried tears of friendship.
5. My dad had heart surgery.  It was pretty minor on today’s scale, but I was scared for him, especially after I’d heard how bad his tests were.  He was getting a couple stints put in, and I cried into my shirt as I told my support group how much I wished I could give him a hug before he went in for surgery.  I cried tears of fear.
6. My grandma died only six months after my aunt had committed suicide.  I prayed and prayed around the time of my grandmother’s funeral and tears came each night as I envisioned both my aunt and grandmother watching over me.  I cried tears of faith.
7. One day I listened as one of my family members listed out a lot of different things I had done to cause her hurt and worry.   I knew I had harmed her, and I knew I couldn’t fix her pain.  I cried tears of guilt.
8. This one’s silly but still true.  I think I wrote about this before even.  I was struggling to find friends in my new city, and I went up to a women I didn’t know to introduce myself.  I was at a meeting with a bunch of other recovering folk and thought she would welcome me with open arms.  She ignored me and turned her back on me.  I cried tears of rejection.
9. My husband and I hosted a game night for some of our friends and we completely disagreed on the rules to one of the games.  We bickered quite a lot and once everyone left we talked it out and agreed to disagree.  I cried tears of frustration.
10. I got into the college of my choice after putting soooooo much pressure on myself and sooooo much importance on it.  I jumped and cheered when I read my letter.  I cried tears of relief.
11. My lovely friend Tina died after a courageous and beautiful life lived to the fullest.  I miss her fierce expressiveness, her faithfulness to life and her fantastic parties.  I cried tears of loss.
12. I experienced my wedding day surrounded by my closest family and friends.  I felt beautiful, confident, loved and secure.  I cried tears of happiness.
13. I danced ALL NIGHT at my wedding.  I cried tears of bliss.
14. I was supposed to be brought on as a new employee at a company I had worked with for a while.  The conversation began with great promise for promotion and ended with a clear understanding that the company and I did not mix.  I walked out of the conversation without a job.  I cried tears of disappointment.
15. Two of my cousins sang with such beauty, generosity and talent at my wedding.  I was so touched and filled with the moment that I felt my heart might explode.  I cried tears of love.
16. I found myself sober after a fast moving and beautiful year of ups and downs.  Then two years.  Then three years.  I cried tears of hope.
17. I have been a lifetime fan of both Disney movies and the Disney Channel.  I get lost in the stories and laugh and cry along with the characters.  I cry tears of innocence.
18. I broke my back when I was eleven and my gymnastics career ended.  I didn’t know what the future would hold, but I knew I had lost a big part of me.  I was confused, distraught and broken.  I cried tears of grief.
19. I have looked loved ones in the eyes and told them I was sorry for the harm I’d done them over the years.  I have been truthful, simple and specific.  I have let them drive conversations and listened to their side.  I have cried tears of humility.
20. So now I have read my list back, and tears welled up in me as I went.  As I read, I felt pride in the realization that all of these moments have shaped me.  None of these moments own me.  I have walked through the good and the bad.  While I am indeed a kind of weepy woman, I have come out with a level of dignity and grace that is surprising even to me.  I cry tears of strength. 

  

Thank you for all my tears. 

Attitude Makeover - HFC Day 17

Think about what you feel pessimistic about, frustrated about or are struggling with, either now or at some point in the past. What were/are those issues? What stops/stopped you from making changes? What do you need/ did you need to confront those issues? Can you make plans to take steps to change? If you have done this, were you able to make changes? What challenges can you set yourself for the future? (Remember to make them realistic and achievable!)

Okay so this is kind of interesting.  I spend so many of my days and moments trying not to be pessimistic and to put a hopeful spin on every one of my experiences.  Truth is that I can throw the meanest pity party on the block.  My default is self pity and it leads me into depressive episodes and sideways anger.  My self pity used to keep me from even trying to recover from ED.  I was so stuck to my pity pot that I really believed that no one even cared if I got healthy.  I can see the faulty thinking there and the disease twisting my truths, so today I stay on the lookout for that voice in me.  I’m not perfect at it though and my entire recovery has been filled with frustration and pessimism over a severe neck injury I suffered in my third month of sober abstinence. 

I herniated a disc in my neck while I was showing off diving for some young kiddos at a community pool.  My husband was with me and we had been dating for only about a week.  Six months later the doctors decided surgery was necessary and performed a spinal fusion.  A year later, I was closing in on my wedding day and my pain remained so severe that I feared I wouldn’t be able to enjoy our celebration.  Three years since the injury and I am still in pain.  I did get some good news just last week that the fusion is complete but received the bad news that arthritis is developing at the injury site. 

Now, this whole thing has really sucked in so many ways.  I have lost a lot of my strength and muscle since my injury and building it back up now is super slow going.  I don’t have the same body shape at all anymore.  I have always been pretty ‘gymnast shaped’.  I never had hips or big boobs.  That’s changed.  I do have hips and I have bigger boobs.  I have had to accept a whole new body.  Man, it was hard enough accepting it the first time!!!   I’ve been angry at myself and at people that just don’t understand.  I’ve been jealous of people that get to workout as hard as they want to and feel that good ache in their muscles from a job well done.  I have yelled at my husband for being attracted to me when I’m in super exhausted from fighting the constant hurting.  I have cursed God for giving me recovery just to give me a serious injury. 

All this is self pity.  What is more is that it is self pity that to me seems justified.  It seems logical and normal to feel down about something like this.  It feels like I should have permission to feel sorry for myself, and the truth is I don’t have much control over what thoughts and emotions hit me at what time but I do need to look for positive outlets for them.  I know from my history that I can’t afford to get sucked into the morose thinking and a defeatist attitude for too long.  So, I have made a commitment to share my frustrations with other people and to find a positive in everything.  Sometimes this can be challenging but for the most part it isn’t so difficult.  Without my injury I would not have had to look so deep within; I would not have had to ask for so much help; I would not have had to pray so often; I would not have had to sit still and just be.  In these ways my injury has given me the quality of recovery I have today.  I have to remember that I don’t know what the big plan is for me and that even the seemingly terrible can bring beautiful gifts.    

Hungry For Change May Challenge - Days 10,11, 12

I’m way behind!!!  It’s been quite a week so these will be short but I hope you still enjoy….

Today is bloggers choice! You can write on anything you wish with regards to eating disorders, relate mental health or social problems. Maybe you have read an article or seen a photograph or advertisement recently you wish to respond to. Perhaps you want to reflect on the challenge so far? It’s entirely up to you. If you’re stuck for ideas post on the HFC Facebook page for inspiration.

I’m a bit relieved that the free style day was day 12.  I’m going to take this day as a day off.  Something extremely valuable and a lesson I’m still learning in recovery is recognizing my own need for unstructured hours.  Me time.  I am a busy body all the way, and I really do love staying productive and creating memories with other people, especially with my family.  But quiet and rest and stillness is just as important as all the activity.  So today, I’m going to take my free style day at home by keeping this entry short, not making too many plans, and maybe a getting in a couple of naps.  It’s been a loooong week!! 

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Today direct your writing at someone in particular, some people in particular or society in general. What do people misunderstand about you? What do you need them to know? If you could explain your eating disorders and how you experience them without consequences – what would you say? How could the person/people reading your writing support you or others battling or in recovery from eating disorders?

Dear mom of the teenaged girl,

BE CAREFUL! Your daughter is more than you see.  She’s talented, strong, beautiful, spirited, and sensitive.  You see these things - but remember too that your daughter is simple.  She’s a young girl and she needs permission to make mistakes.  She wants you to admit she’s not responsible for everything.  Not because you are putting too much pressure on her but because she is.  Telling her she’s putting too much pressure on herself is not going to cut it.  Be aware of the way you talk to other people.  She is listening.  Try not to predict her future.  Try to talk about who she is with your family and friends and not always what she’s earning on paper or in medals or up against her peers.  Remember to tell her silly side and her mistakes too with love and laughter.  Maybe she walked into a wall or couldn’t stop giggling or was afraid of a trip or ride.  Share these times.  She will know that ALL of her is to be celebrated and not just the things with the ‘good’ tag. 

  

Another thing, your daughter is going to be okay no matter what happens to her or what mistakes you make.  She may get mad at you or blame you for things but don’t take it on.  Don’t blame yourself for her hardships.  It takes away from her ability to fully experience and own the blame and pain.  Teenagers love drama and getting through trauma and tough times of their own allows them a sense of pride and strength.  Allow it and don’t steal it.

Remember that you are a wonderful mom.  You care and she knows it.  Try not to take yourself too seriously.  She will learn that from you too.  Be joyful and celebrate being a woman!  Embrace yourself and your daughter will too.

Good luck!  Love, Fran

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Choose ten words; five of which relate to your experience of eating disorders and five of which relate to your recovery. What does each of these words mean to you? Why are they important to you? What part have they played in your illness and recovery?

Recovery

1. Grace
2. Action
3. Love
4. Resilient
5. Freedom

ED

1. Shame
2. Guilt
3. Broken
4. Lies
5. Lonely

Top Five of Me - HFC Day 5

Whether you have body image issues or not, eating disorders attack the body. Write today, whether poetry, list, stream of consciousness or whatever way you choose about what you appreciate your body for, what parts of your body you treasure most and why.

My top five body appreciation parts:

(Hahahaha! Who would have ever thought I’d be writing something like this?!!!!  I remember all the times they asked me for just one good thing about myself and even with suggestions I couldn’t do it!  Now, I whittled my list to five in order to save my wrists and hands on the typing because I have three entries to write - I take the weekend off from writing.  Anyway, when I wrote the title with a giggle, it just  struck me as such a miracle/gift/oddity.  I’m looking forward to this.  What?!!  J)

1. My feet – I’ve always liked my feet.  This one stands at number one because I can’t really remember a time that I HATED my feet.  I don’t know if I can say this about any other part of my body.  My feet have been true companions if you will.  I did break my big toe a couple months ago and it was extremely ugly but it’s almost back to normal.  Still a little on the swollen side but I’d say all in all… my feet are still pretty cute.  Also, my feet are pretty amazing, functionally speaking.  I have excellent balance, strong toes and pretty decent flexibility in my toes.  How cool that I can dive the way I can much thanks to my feet!
2. My hair – Now this was in top competition for the number one spot because my hair has provided hours upon hours upon hours of pure entertainment.  I love playing with my hair and creating funky do’s and trying on different colors.  My sister encouraged me to be a hair dresser for a long time because I have so much fun with it.  She and I used to have races to see who could French braid our own hair the fastest, then backwards, then inside out.  I once made an affirmation art therapy scrapbook for an assignment and title it ‘Crazy Hair’.  I still have it.  My hair has spoken to my personality, my mood, my acceptance or rebellion, my self-worth and altogether me over the years.  My hair is an expression and I love expressing me.
3. My hips – Yeah and it’s number 3!!!  I never, ever thought I’d appreciate my hips.  I fought against my hips.  I put my hands over them as if cutting off that section of my body when I looked in the mirror praying they would disappear one day.  You know the drill.  I just wanted them cut off.  Well today that’s not the case.  One thing I’ve learned in recovery is to love other women.  In turn, I’ve learned to love myself as a woman.  This did not happen overnight nor did I consciously work on, getting rid of the fear of having a woman’s figure.  The hatred of my hips kinda just slowly but surely faded into the background.  Then, after a time, I started to see beauty in them.  Amazing.
4. My tummy – My tummy is my signal.  It signals when I’m straying from my course.  Warning, warning, warning!  Any mind games or food games I play, I will recognize the consequences of them in my tummy.  Whether that’s in the form of feeling bloated, seeing new weight added, having cramps, having gastrointestinal problems or feeling empty and flat, it will reveal where I’m at with my body image and my abstinence.  It’s a gift really.  I don’t have to wonder what’s up with me for too long before my tummy tells all. Heehee.
5. My shoulders – I’m strong.  My shoulders are broad, yet feminine.  I love my strength and athleticism and find a quiet comfort in that.  I love that my shoulders allow me to carry a posture of confidence and openness.  I pull my shoulders back, open my eyes and welcome the world in.  And it’s so, so beautiful.  

Enjoy Your Body - it's the only one you've got!!!  YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL!

My Mascot - Hungry for Change - Day 3

Woo!  This brings me back to all those art therapy sessions.  I loved art therapy even though I’m a terrible artist.  It was one time I felt like there was no right answer and I didn’t have to try to be the best at it because it was all from our own experiences that our creative pieces came.  I thought they were all beautiful.  After looking at the other mascots chosen for the third day of the Hungry for Change May challenge https://www.facebook.com/hungryforchange, I have to say I haven’t changed a bit.  I find them all so beautiful!

My eating disorder recovery mascot is now, from today, A DIVER.  

In some sense it has been my mascot for years but I certainly didn’t call it that.  This picture is a perfect representation of my diving mascot for a couple reasons.  One is that she’s diving from a springboard.  I have developed a springboard diving metaphor for life.  It goes a little something like this…

In diving just about 90% of the dive’s success depends on the work that is done on the board.  You take careful steps, maintain strong and balanced posture, drive all your weight and power into the board to push it down and you up just so, and carefully time your arms and second push so that the board will seamlessly fling you up into the air and safely away from the board.  The success of the rest of your dive, however simple or complicated, will absolutely be affected by how well you’ve executed your board work.  The best part is in the freedom that comes after you’ve essentially catapulted yourself into the air.  If you’ve done it right, there’s not a whole lot you can do to mess it up.  If you’ve done it wrong, you might be saying some prayers as you come closer to hitting the water!  Either way you basically get to enjoy the ride and probably get a lot of laughs if it turns out to be more of a painful go.  Life is this way for me today in recovery.  I do the footwork and keep the ‘plug in the plate’ (as a good friend of mine likes to say), and I get to experience a freedom that welcomes all kinds of unexpected pains and pleasures.  What a thrill!

Before recovery, I knew what the day would bring – misery.  Today I have no idea what the future holds, so I continue to put one foot in front of the other and watch the results as they are revealed around me.   

The second reason I like this picture for my mascot is that she is doing my favorite type of dive, a twister.  This is my favorite because it’s both extremely complicated and fairly impossible to ‘think’ about.  You have to just do it and trust that your body knows how to take care of the dynamics in the air.  In diving this is called muscle memory and it takes some time to build up but once you’ve got it you learn to absolutely rely upon it.  In eating disorder recovery, this is compared to intuitive eating, turning away from the magnificent magnifying mind in the mirror, and the human instinct to survive no matter what.  The body know best and I have come to enjoy the freedom I get when I trust that. 

I’m built strong and healthy.  My body is able and capable.  My recovery allows me to take some pleasure, joy and comfort in that.  No more fighting.  I’m doing the work; I think I’ll enjoy the ride. J

  

I just love this picture.  I wish we still wore suits like this!!!

I read the news today

I was prompted to write while perusing news articles today.  Man oh man is it depressing to read the headlines alone!  I have asked why news has to be so violent, traumatic and tragic as a blanket question my entire life.  I’m not exaggerating. I think I’ve wondered this my entire life, or at least as long as I have had a high enough level of cognizance to wonder it.  I used to ask my mom to turn off the news or just not to watch it at all, because I couldn’t handle hearing all the chaos being reported.  I’ve always compartmentalized ideas, events, actions, people, and just about everything else. I couldn’t fit ‘the news’ in any of my acceptable spaces so it went into the unacceptable and intolerable bins. Yes, I lived a charmed and somewhat sheltered childhood.  My rather naive brain could not have possibly made sense of it all in my accustomed way - which was to make sense of it all.  This is probably pretty normal but what is a little odd is that I still do the same thing today as a 32 year old woman! 

I suppose I’ve gotten more comfortable with some of it. The major headlines that include just an overview idea don’t completely revolt me or send horrible visuals and/or real fear through me.  I certainly can decide whether or not to watch longer or read on based on those headlines.  If I decide to read an article and it immediately exploits someone, delves into unnecessarily horrific details, or contains a tone that is unsettling, I stop reading.  The problem comes when someone else, most often my husband, has chosen to watch something that I don’t like.  I can hear the crap through closed door and the shows I recognize, I can’t even stand all the dramatic music and I get pretty moody and bossy about what can and can’t be played in our home when I’m home. 

Again, I feel like I was born with this hyper sensitivity to violent or vulgar media, and as you can imagine it has really caused some frustration and embarrassment in the more recent years.  I used to put myself to sleep in a theatre if a movie was overwhelming to me.  Falling asleep anywhere on my own volition was a skill that served me well for years. I can’t do it as easily anymore but that might have to do with the absence of copious amounts of psychotropic drugs in my system.  From about 18 – 28, I was pretty much sleepy and lethargic all the time so given the opportunity to check out, I chose sleep quite often.  I think I also take after my dad; he fell asleep in the theatre (the real theatre) during The Phantom of the Opera which is like the loudest (in a good way) production ever!  Honestly, it was just so much easier, and I still think nicer, than cutting the movie short for me and whoever I’d gone to the theatre with.  So now that I don’t have such an easy switch to sleep capability, I don’t have another solution – yet.

I’ve tried a few things to no avail.  I’ve tried to close myself in the bedroom and play music while I read.  This usually ends in my temper flaring up because now I’ve cut myself off from socializing and from the kitchen J.  So that’s out.  I’ve tried to actually watch the shows.  Total disaster has ensued every time.  I have zero ability to control my extreme and emotional reaction to these shows – yet.  I’ve prayed and prayed for acceptance of both my limitations and other peoples’ tastes that I can leave if I’m bother WITHOUT acting the victim.  I need to pray more cause this hasn’t worked.  I’ve tried mandating that only the shows I approve of be played when I’m home.  This is actually where we’re at now because it’s kept the peace.  So far my husband has proved much more flexible than I, and yet I still react when suggestions for ‘the other’ shows are made.  Oh well, here’s room for growth.  Maybe some therapy is in order.  Maybe more creative outlets are options for me.  I don’t know what but more will be revealed.

How to die gracefully

A lesson from Tina Diaz.

My sponsee in recovery died of cancer Sunday night at 11:10pm.  She was 2 years and 4 months sober and absolutely LOVED LIVING LIFE.  When I met her, she was in remission and just beginning a new journey in sobriety.  Just a short time later, the cancer showed up again and she fought hard to survive another bout.  Sadly she has passed, but not without leaving behind tons of memories and a bit of her tenacious spirit in all who loved her.  Over the past year, I’ve heard myself say on several occasions something like, “If there’s a way to die well, Tina’s doing it”.   

Throughout her fight, she spent all her stored energy experiencing brand new adventures.  She was one mighty woman!  She won a scavenger hunt and danced at my wedding.  A memory I will never forget.  She parasailed, went on retreats, threw birthday parties for her family (played in the bounce houses herself!), let it loose in Disneyland, and all sorts of other things.  She lived! 

From her sick bed, she would send us out from our visits saying things like "Go get a newcomer ladies!"  She wanted everyone to get the life and freedom she found in recovery.  She had a clear purpose to share her story with other alcoholics and she never passed up a chance to reach out to someone in pain.  She inspired so many women to admit their problems were not so big, to swallow hard, to suit up and to help someone out.  If Tina could, they could too. 

She was a fierce mother and so loved both her children and her grandchildren.  She would do anything for any of them and didn’t bat an eye to defend them.  She would get this ‘don’t mess with my kid’ face on if someone began to cross a line, and if her accent returned, oh man, watch out!  Her family surrounded her in her final moments.  She was a blessed woman.

She loved having prayers sent her way.  It was like she could feel them comforting and energizing her.  You could see her whole body change and her chest expand as she took in the prayers and well wishes sent from her friends.  Occasionally, she would cry while she listened to longer prayers.  It was as if the longer ones filled her up so much that she overflowed in tears.  The way it moved her was so inspiring that I came to find more comfort in prayer than ever before in my life.  She taught me how to pray comfortably, honestly and without reservation.  I was not shy in prayer with Tina.  She was a woman of awesome faith and she showed me how to carry my own faith with more grace and confidence.  She told her friends and family that when the time came for her to go from this life, she would not be afraid.  She would be filled with love and taken home.  What faith!

I am humbled to have ever met Tina and am so grateful for all she taught me.  I hope you can find strength, hope and faith in her story.  She would love you to know more of them all!

“To watch people recover, to see them help others, to watch loneliness vanish, to see a fellowship grow up about you, to have a host of friends -- this is an experience you must not miss.” -BigBook of Alcoholics Anonymous, p.89, Working With Others

“We shall be with you in the Fellowship of the Spirit, and you will surely meet some of us as you trudge the Road of Happy Destiny.” -BigBook of Alcoholics Anonymous, p.164, A Vision For You

So good, so simple, so difficult!!

I can guess that everyone I have ever met can relate to not wanting to do something, even when they know that doing it wouldn't take much effort at all and it would quickly improve their life.  All gain and we don’t want to do it!  Seems nutty but then I think this must be a part of the human condition, because I’ve never met anyone that welcomes all healthy, positive, fun or good opportunities right away.  There’s some element of reluctance in all of us on certain things.  Exercise is a perfect example of my point.  Over the years I have heard countless people say countless times, “I know it would be really good for me but it’s just too hard to get started,” and go on to say “I know I’ll have more energy and more motivation to do things but I just don’t have enough time,” and go on to say “I know I’ll be so much more productive so I probably will have more time once I start, but I just can’t seem to get started,” and go on and on and on.  I’ve said all these things myself without any intention of actually exercising!  It's crazy really but everyone does it. 

I have a couple theories on why we have this strange unwillingness to do the ‘win wins’.  One I wrote about last week.  Fear of change.  Self centered fear that facilities us metaphorically shooting ourselves in the foot over and over and over again.  Fears like: I might not be able to follow through; it might be uncomfortable to change my routine; it might keep me from handling all the things I usually do in the same manner I usually handle them; I might not like it; people might look at me differently; etc.  The logical error is easy to identify.  Admit it.  These fears are ridiculous in light of the benefits we receive in overcoming them.  Don’t want to hang out with friends tonight because you’re too depressed and people won’t want to be around you?  Get over yourself.  They don’t care how you come.  They probably don’t even care if you come.  You will care.  Overcome the fear that you won’t enjoy yourself and that you will regret time missed reflecting on all the horrible crap in your life and the one that says you’ll feel stupid and uncomfortable the whole time because you won’t be able to entertain or relate to everyone like usual.  Just get off your butt and go!!!  Seriously, there’s nothing to lose but a few hours of self imposed misery.

And that brings me to my second theory on this issue.  People are lazy and we just don’t wanna.  Pure and simple.  I’m not an exception to this at all.  When I’m in a lazy zone, it doesn’t matter how little the effort; if it takes effort, I’m out.  It’s sad but true.  Imagine if when considering whether to do or not do, I counted to three and went on go.  I would get to reap so many benefits that I’d simply let pass me by otherwise.  Now, I realize the lazy factor is something that is hard to really find one real fix for but try everything and then try everything again.  Maybe not one, two, three, go but something!  What works for me at one time will not at others and vice versa.  Here are some of my efforts:

1.    When mornings are rough, I give myself a few minutes to stay in bed from the time I last looked at the clock.  I pick an exact time that I must be up by and as that time nears, I begin my own countdown.  It’s weird but as competitive as I am, I am almost always up before the clock reads the time I first chose.

2.    When I don’t want to exercise at all, I come up with the smallest amount of time I can possibly allow for a workout while still believing I will benefit.  I did some yoga this morning but really needed to try some cardio even with my aches and pains.  I ran for 2 minutes.  Yes 2.  I walked for 8 minutes afterward.  It’s a start!

3.    When I don’t want to go somewhere, I try to judge what an acceptable attendance time is for the event.  I usually decide that all I have to do is show up and I’ll be able to leave whenever I want to.  If it’s a family deal or an event in honor of something, I usually set an obligatory hour for myself.  That’s a really short time frame and I outstay my allotted hour nearly every time.  I get there and voila I have a social experience!

4.    When I don’t want to go to work, eesh every work day (I’m kidding!  It’s not that bad!), I use a laundry list of tricks.  One is to just to get there by blocking out all the thoughts projecting how the day will go until I actually arrive at work.  Another is trying to place something on the other side of the work day or week that I really want to do.  It makes getting through the work day way more appealing and cathartic.  Tons of things come to mind but these two are keepers!

5.    When I don’t want to try something new, I consider what I have to lose by trying it.  Usually the answer is either nothing or a couple moments of my time.  It seems silly to give up an opportunity that I might really enjoy when all I’m looking at sacrificing is not much of anything.

You feeling motivated yet?  

So little talk of food

I tend to talk a lot more about my experience as a recovering alcoholic than I do about my experience as a recovering bulimic.  It’s certainly not less of a focus in my recovery nor is it something like my secondary illness.  In fact, I would not be able to judge which disease brought more consequences.  My preference when talking about recovery in terms of my alcoholism is really for simplicity’s sake.   I don’t take a drink and treat my mind and spirit… period.  There’s no option to where I just don’t eat, so it requires a bit more detail and most people aren’t interested.  Fortunately for me, I have found a pretty simple recipe to keep free of my active eating disorder.  It’s not perfect and it has changed many times over the past few years, but it does work.  So here’s a little peek at my abstinence (abstinence is what many in food recovery call refraining from disease behavior or compulsive eating):

First, I just had to stop throwing up.  That was the most obvious thing I had to change.  After about two weeks without vomiting, I still felt terrible physically.  I knew a lot of my discomfort was because of my nighttime eating.  So, I added a blackout time of 10pm – 6am during which I could not eat any meals or snacks.  I was amazed at how difficult it was for me to sleep for the next few weeks!  I was so used to munching while watching television in bed well into the night that it was rough to go without.  I got through my first night and then used the strength of having gotten through the night before to get through subsequent nights.  I also used my phone to make SOS calls when I couldn’t do it alone.  These two changes, no purging and no night eating, dramatically changed my relationship with food and gave me a ton of hope and relief.  I have purged only a handful of times in four years and have loosened the blackout time on occasion (usually realizing within a short number of days that I need to tighten it up again).  I have addressed many other ‘problem areas’ over the years as well.  When I’m having trouble with grazing or restricting and need to place clear starts and ends to meal times, I set time windows for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks.  I have used tracker tools, which I currently do and have done for over a year now, where I log my day’s food intake in order to keep aware of both what I’m eating and what my body is asking for.  I have turned on red lights for some foods and yellow lights for others.  Red light foods are foods I don’t allow myself to eat.  Yellows are foods I check in with myself and how I’m relating to food before I eat them.  The easiest way for me to decide whether a yellow light food should be eaten or not is by asking myself, “Can I eat this food like a lady?”  If I think that I may eat 10 portions instead of one, the answer is no and I don’t eat it.  If I think it will pretty much guarantee that I cry and yell at the mirror the next time I’m in front of it, the answer is no and I don’t eat it.  If I feel hungry and I have no desperate messages arriving in my head, I can enjoy that food.  A food is really only red lighted if it causes me increased consequences on a consistent basis.   For the most part, I interchange all these tools, except for the no purging and no night eating which are constant, depending on how they are impacting my recovery and my life.   

There is a risk in having an abstinence that allows for so much flexibility and that exists within my own mind.  Being that I’m the one making adjustments and deciding what defines my abstinence at any given time, I may get caught in my disease thought process and feed my addiction rather than my recovery.  I don’t spend a whole lot of time worrying about this though because I’ve found that consequences present themselves quickly when I’m feeding my disease.  These consequences are usually in the form of tears over how I look, what I don’t have to make me look better, anger that I’m not the weight I was at X time, distorted body image where I’m suddenly obese, or just plain old emotional sensitivity to all things normal and I decide that nobody really cares about me or likes me much at all. 

After all the meal planning tools and an abstinence that works in my daily life, what I’m left with is the treatment of my mind and spirit.  Simple as that.  The same as any other addiction recovery.  I get slightly uncomfortable if another recovering addict approaches me with awe and says I’ve overcome a lot, indicating that I have had more to overcome than they have.  I believe to my core that I’ve had to do exactly the same thing they have.  I had to stop my active disease behavior, and then the real work started.  I had to seek relief for my mind and spirit.  Once we are able to first put down the insert drug of choice here and others here, we can all then take our journeys towards sanity, an enriched life and a full heart. 

The Great Motivator

I’m not the best at dealing with change. I’m not even good at it. Change brings fear of the unknown and for me that’s self-centered fear. I fear that I’m not going to get what I want or I’ll lose something I have. I’m afraid that change will delete the comfortable and easy things from my life, and add stressful and difficult things.

I’ve never understood people when they say, “I have a fear of success”. I used to say it myself and didn’t even understand what I meant. I just wasn't capable of digging down below the surface and seeing the real truth. Looking back, I can see that anytime I said I was afraid to succeed, what would have been a more accurate statement is something like, “I’m afraid that if I do well now, things will change in the future. Then, I might have to take on more responsibility. Harder situations may come. I might lose this way of living where other people take care of me.  Because if I do this thing well, people will see that I can do this thing well, and they won't take care of me anymore. I will have to support myself and find strength within myself instead of stealing it from others.” To someone of a different mind, this may sound extreme. To me it sounds like just enough reason to stay locked up in my addictions. In short, I could have said, “I’m terrified of change.” Neither hope nor faith in anything but me and my sickness existed before I was in enough pain to want out. Being sick was the only way I knew for sure I would get what I needed and be cared for by the people I knew. As far as I was concerned, it was the closest thing to a guarantee that I wouldn’t have to face the terror of change.

They say that if nothing changes, nothing changes. The first time I heard that my heart sank because I knew I was incapable of change, which meant that the pain and despair of my world would continue indefinitely. I also heard that change is easiest when the pain is greatest. By that I knew that I would have to endure more pain, because I certainly was not in enough to want to change… yet. The great thing is that I was blessed to know the day where enough was enough. It wasn’t dramatic at all. Somehow I just knew I was completely beat and I’d had enough. I could not tolerate facing another treatment center or psych ward. It disgusted me to even think of it. I finally could not lie my way out of the truth. I was too tired to find another way out. I had to change and I didn’t give a dam how it was going to turn out. They were right, it really did come easy. I did what I was told for a while and was granted some hope as my life improved quickly. After some time and experience, the most enormous gift arrived – faith. Faith came as I looked back on all my trials, failures, successes, and fears, and realized that it had all worked out on the other side. Today I have faith that I'm not just going to get dropped on my ass. It's always going to work out, no matter my fears.

The freedom and happiness I have today was born of pain. Thankfully, it takes less pain to motivate me and I’m able to welcome change with much more grace than I ever thought possible. All of these thoughts stem from a change that’s happening in my life now. I’m moving this weekend. I’m scared, but I’m still moving. I’m only moving a couple cities over but it’ll change some things. I’m afraid of some of my relationships changing or ending. I’m afraid I won’t be there for the people I love as often and that I’ll miss out on things. I laughed when I wrote that though because it’s a little nutty. I mean, I really am only moving 13 miles from where I’ve been! I also have no clue if this will ACTUALLY affect any of my relationships. It’s like I think I’m living in an age without vehicles or technology. Seriously! I have a car and all kinds of gadgets to get a hold of people on. That’s my ‘magic magnifying mind’ again! I’m moving which means I’m losing something. That’s what I’ve been telling myself anyway. Now I’m kind of amused by my fear of moving. This happens a lot these days when I get to compare the truth to what’s happening in my mind. So I say forget it. Bring it. I’m ready to move and I’m excited about it. Woohoo!

The best medicine

I love to laugh.  It keeps me in touch with the simple things in life, replenishes my spirit and just feels good.  Here are ten laughter-filled moments of my past in no particular order.

One time…

1. I woke up at 7 o’clock on my bedroom floor with my head on a seventh grade science book and panicked.  I rushed into the kitchen and began making a bowl of cereal in tears.  I had fallen asleep studying for a big science test and was not prepared.  My family was sitting at the kitchen table and asked me what I was doing.  I replied, “I’m making breakfast!”  They asked me why and I excitedly said “I’ve got to get dressed and I’m going to fail me test today!”  Then my dad said something and I began to yell.  I don’t remember what I said but halfway through I realized that my dad was still home, everyone was eating dinner, I was still in my volleyball uniform and finally… it was 7 o’clock AT NIGHT.
2. My sister and I decided we were going to measure our bodies from head to toe, head to chin, just the neck, shoulder blade to shoulder blade, groin to ankle, feet, hands, reach, nose, knee to hip.  You get the picture, everything.  Turns out my legs were an inch longer than hers.  Her torso was two inches longer than mine!  The visual was too much and we were in fits of laughter.  My mom was too as she observed the spectacle.  Oh and we were sixteen and seventeen at the time.
3. I was driving my carpool to soccer practice as a high school senior and we stopped to get iced water at a drive through.  As I pulled out and took the sharp right turn onto the street from the drive through lane, the waters began spilling.  I tried to stop the drinks from spilling but did not stop the car.  We ended up all the way over the curb and back into the drive through lane, perpendicular to the window this time.  I waved at the clerk who was only about two feet from the front of the car, backed up onto the busy street and went along to practice. 
4. I felt that knowing my best friend was taking a run meant that I should take the opportunity to drive alongside her through town and sing “Wind Beneath My Wings” by Bette Midler as loud as I could accompanied by my stereo on full blast.  Nice.
5. My mom and I got into an incredibly intense sword fight with our empty wrapping paper cardboard.  It was pretty hard core until we couldn’t continue due to not being able to breathe and having to use the bathroom.
6. My brother and I spent a summer in one of the most boring cities in America, a college town with no summer life.  We decided our best option one day was to count our steps to the fast food restaurant where we got soda daily and the movie store.  To this day it’s the most talked about thing we did all summer.   I can’t remember how many steps it took us but I remember it was a good time.
7. The first week on my college campus, my friend and I ran into one of the school’s basketball players in the bookstore.  I only knew his name was Hans because my friend was freaking out about how cute he was and told me to talk to him.  Well, of course we made sure we got in line directly behind him and I tapped him on the shoulder and said, “Hi, you’re Hans and I’m Franz, nice to meet you!”  No idea what I was thinking but the look on his face was classic and my friend, of course, was mortified.  It was seriously like I was in a movie the first day of classes a couple days later and he sat down next to me.  He looked at me and just shook his head.  Awesome.
8. There was a cereal commercial on TV during Christmas time where this little kid would string the cereal for the tree and talk about it.  One of his lines was something like, “I love these little crunchy little cornballs.”  Well, my sister and I found this completely adorable with his little boy learning to talk voice and one day my sister broke out the line… at the McDonalds drive-through order intercom.  The whole carpool was in the car and she says, “Hi, can we have four vanilla yogurts on those crunchy little cornball cones?” with the accent!  Oh man, even writing it I can’t stop laughing.  Years of entertainment.
9. When I was in seventh grade I was a lecture during the school mass.  Unfortunately, so was my best friend and we talked throughout the whole mass on the altar.  As the whole school was being escorted back to their classrooms, the eighth grade teacher found me and while pointing right at my face yelled, “You were a wart on the sanctuaries nose!”  I didn’t laugh right then but when I got back to my classroom I was brought to the front and told to apologize to the class.  I got the giggles so bad I couldn’t do it.  Of course it didn’t help that I started by telling my classmates what the teacher had said.  Maybe I was being a bit defiant.
10. My dad came to pick me up from my last final the last day of my last year of college.  He had been packing up the car while I was in the exam so we could take off across the country right away.  I came out of the building and there was my dad open arms, the biggest smile on his face, a bloody forehead, a dirty and bloody shirt and torn up sweatpants.  He was cheering for me “You did it!  This is my daughter, she’s a graduate!”  Well, it so happened that a big football player approached the steps to the building while this was going on.  In the flurry of excitement my dad just got a glance at him and noticed the all too cool fashion the football player had going on with one leg of his sweats rolled up over his knee.  My dad stopped pointed and exclaimed, “Nice legs!”