turning over a new leaf...

...or possibly it's just the other side of the same leaf. who knows?

anyway, i went to a meeting (formulated after alcoholics anonymous) for ED people on sunday. it was riddled with religious intonations, but other than that, was an interesting experience. it was the first time i've ever been in a situation where people just talk openly - and so matter-of-factly - about their ED experience. i spoke just for a minute, and said that i'm not sure if that's the right place for me, i don't know if i'm ready to give up the binge/purge/starve/binge cycle because it's my drug. it's how i cope with anxiety, depression, the shit that my life throws at me.

but things had been really bad the week before i went. spring break was pretty hard. both my roommates were gone, which means i had the apt to myself. and so, like usual, i became something of a hermit. binged and purged and starved myself. on wed the OAOA came over - we drank rum and had great sex - but i had binged so hardcore the previous day that i was more concerned with how i looked naked than anything else. the next day, a friend of mine from d.c. called saying he was in town and did i want to meet up to go clubbing? of course! until i got home and ate so much i thought my stomach would actually rupture. so i canceled on him. these are the reasons that i do want to be done with this. i eat and eat and can't even be involved in my own social life. i cancel on friends and am too preoccupied with body image/what i've eaten to be present with anybody.

on friday i didn't eat until nighttime when i started to binge. i felt it coming on. and then something clicked, or snapped. and i started just looking for something else. doing online research for support groups, i read an excerpt from one of geneen roth's books, i was ready to reach out to get help. which is something i've never done before (other than therapy, which is honestly rather disenchanting...) i felt like i was ready to be done with things.

i didn't binge saturday or sunday. yesterday was monday and i ate more or less normally (or whatever normal is for me!) and then this morning i had a mini-binge, but i don't think all is lost. i've been cranky and frustrated and angry at myself over these past days, because without food to mask things, all i have is myself and my emotions. it's really f-ing hard. which is why i don't want to give this up.

so it's a constant battle between wanting it and not wanting it, between having the energy to fight it and just giving up. i don't think i'm ready to just give up yet. but i really can't think about the long term. if i think that, right now, sitting here on my bed, i am ok. right now i don't need to eat something. (even though i feel like i could totally raid the entire fridge and eat every last drop of food in the house!) i can just sit here for this minute and finish this entry, move on to the rest of my school work, maybe work on my thesis a bit, and i don't need to have food to do that.

if i think that way, maybe i can get through today. and then maybe tomorrow. but i'll cross that bridge when i come to it.

the irony of this all is that in trying to get over my food issues and in trying to eat normally, i think i think more about food than i ever have. it has occupied my mind even more intensely over these past few days than it did before. because before, i would eat to numb myself. before i was stuck in the vicious cycle of eat/numb/freak out/purge/binge/get anxious/eat/numb... etc etc etc.

and now for these past few days, i'm trying to not do that. and in addition, i'm trying not to hate myself for every little thing i do eat, and also not to hold myself up to impossible standards of perfection. like this morning and my mini-binge: it's not the end of the world. i don't have to give in to the 'fuck it' mentality that i've already screwed up, might as well go buy out a grocery store, and start again tomorrow. i start again right now. and in this moment, i am ok. in this moment, i can just be here and i don't need food for that.

just another day...

so i guess relapses happen.

and i probably shouldn't beat myself up over it.

but it's hard when you spend years fighting something. you think you've made progress or are making progress or are at least taking two steps forward for every one step back, and then suddenly you find yourself ass down in a pile of mud and you're the one you got yourself there.

that's how i've felt these past two weekends. first weekend, i had friends visiting and we had a crazy-party-weekend, and then my little sister and her friend were here this past weekend and we had a fun-girly-touristy-weekend. both brilliantly fun, both followed by the biggest binges ever.

and now all i want to do is smack myself. why can't i do this?

but i had something of a revelation. the whole weekend, i spent with these two young girls who were practically idolizing me. telling me how cool and fun and amazing i am and how awesome my life here is. and i was tempted to believe it. i got home on sunday and was looking in the mirror, trying to find faults. trying my best to find something wrong with me - which isn't hard for me to do. i compared a picture of me from the beginning of the summer (incredibly tan and maybe a few pounds thinner) to how i look now, and how shitty i think i look now. i even showed the pic to my roommate and asked her to tell me that i look pasty and gross without my tan. i was looking for rejection. and i didn't get it.

so i turned to food, because i knew that it would fill that hole in me. i would eat and eat and eat, and then be able to reject myself. it's easy.

i do enough bad things (that i KNOW are bad and that i KNOW will make me hate myself) and i end up getting the rejection i'm looking for. if i hate myself enough, i can avoid having anyone else reject me, because i'll do it preemptively.

pretty fucked up way of looking at things.

oh well. tomorrow i go to therapy again and we'll talk it all out...

terrified to succeed

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

-Marianne Williamson

i feel like this quote pretty much sums up my life. well, at least that third sentence. "who am i to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?" i am so terrified to being in the open, of being noticed, of being successful beyond measure that, more often than not, i sabotage my own success. i binge until i can't move, numbing out the possibility of any rational thought. i am so obsessed with body image and how i look and what i have eaten - it must be occupying at least 95% of my conscious thought!

instead of enabling my own success and trusting that i was "born to manifest the glory of God" or whatever higher power or spirit or soul that is within me, i enable only the part of me that wants to bring me down. the part that is terrified to succeed. because ultimately, success means you have something to lose. with every step higher you climb, that's just one more step further you could possibly fall.

i am at a point in my life where i have climbed really high. i'm finishing up school, writing my thesis, getting ready to graduate and to try to find a real job (make some money instead of just spending it all!) but not only that, i weigh less now than i have since i was probably about 14 years old. maybe even younger. over the past year i've lost about 50lbs and i like what i weigh. i'm happy(er) when i look in the mirror. i am glad to be able to go shopping and fit into clothes properly.

i am terrified of fucking it all up.

now that i weigh what is arguable an "ideal" weight for me, i feel like my disordered eating is rearing it's ugly head more than ever. i binge uncontrollably and freak out about ruining everything. i'm constantly paranoid that one extra bite of whatever it is i'm eating will make me instantly go back to weighing what i used to. ok, well i'm not that dumb, but i'm terrified that this is completely impermanent and that sooner or later i will step on the scale, realize that i lost track of things, and weigh again 50lbs more.

this is not necessarily a ridiculous line of thinking. yes, if i continue to binge and continue to eat way more than i should, i will gain weight. but that does not mean that i have to starve myself to make up for extra calories. nor does it mean that my entire life has to be devoted to thinking about what i ate, what i will eat, what i want to eat, what i can't eat, what i should eat, what i would eat ad nauseum infinae.

school deserves more thought than that. my social life deserves more thought than that, for god's sake a rock lying on the side of the road deserves more than that. i am torturing myself with this and i've had enough.

i wish i could say i'm getting better, but i just don't see it. i don't know exactly how i lost all the weight that i did, but the consequences are so bipolar it's unbelievable. who am i not to live up to all the potential i have?? who am i not to be brilliant and gorgeous and talented and fabulous??? these things do not preclude failures in my life and yes, failure hurts. but if i don't set myself up for failure and sabotage everything i do, at least then i have the chance to succeed. at least then, there's the possibility (no matter how slim) that i won't fail.