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.

tuesdays suck.

not all tuesdays. pretty much just tuesdays when i'm depressed and cold because the weather is changing and i feel like i can't get out of my head.

in the end it's nothing specific to a tuesday, just today. yesterday felt like a vacation from myself and today feels like a return to reality. i'm trapped in this prison between my skull and it is slowly sucking away at my life force. i'm unproductive, tired, lethargic, depressed, moody etc etc etc. doesn't help that i only got 6 hours of sleep and woke up at 2am and 4am, i'm on my period, and have more work than you could shake a stick at. (and that's a lot.)

i love what i'm studying, it's just so completely overwhelming me, and with all this other bullshit ruminating around, it feels like i'm on a never-ending upward slope.

on the plus side, two of my best girlfriends are coming to visit from d.c. and detroit in the beginning of october (only 16 more days!) and a couple other friends might be coming that weekend too. we were all in senegal together so it would basically be the hugest reunion ever - full of ceebu jën, ataya, café touba and all things sénégalais!

i went and had a smoke break with becky between paper writing and class today. she is seriously my sanity. it might be because she's a social worker and can totally see through my bullshit (which is good and bad - bad when she calls me on shit that i would rather her not call me on. like when she tells me that my recent weight loss made her have a nervous breakdown when she saw me for the first time in a while and tells me she knows how much i struggle with disordered eating and is worried that things aren't ok. that made me, in turn, spiral into an enormous binge. but that's not about her, after all...) anyway, smoking and chatting and her telling me that it's not worth it to break my back for all this school bullshit. what's the point? she asked me. i guess there isn't really one. it's all just pressure i put on myself. bizarre standards i set for myself that are a little bit insane, but i feel like i can't back down and can't back out and should be able to handle all this.

i think i can handle it. it might make me a bit insane, but then again, it's only a few months. i guess the question is the opportunity cost of it all. i can handle it, but should i be doing this to myself? what other options do i have?? i tell myself that next semester i'm totally not taking a full course load, but i wonder if i'll be able to stick to that promise to myself.

for now, i'm just going to look at things like an alcoholic. one day at a time. and when that's too much, one hour. i don't have to shoulder this all alone, and soon enough, i'll be back in therapy!! (never thought i would be so happy to say those words...)

a long sunday of procrastination

you know when you have something on your mind and nothing else seems at all possible? i mean, you feel like you can't do anything except obsess and obsess and obsess. well, i've been obsessing. and usually all you need to get it off your mind is a good distraction. like a list of 17 books to find in the library, or an entire thesis to start researching. none of that seemed to work today.

not only am i still thinking about fred's visit - and my having to tell him that, while he is pretty much in love with me, i will never feel the same way about him - but also about the huge binge i went on yesterday and the day before, and the day before... i can't even begin to explain what a mind job this whole thing has been on me. fred, because i can't handle having someone love me. or even like me. the way i see myself and the disgust, even, i have for my own body makes it impossible for me to believe that someone else could find me attractive. as soon as a guy tells me he likes me/is attracted to me, i start thinking - even if only subconciously - 'what's wrong with this guy that he's actually attracted to me?!!??!' yeah, i know. deranged. and then there's the binge thing. they talk about the 7 steps of mourning. denial, a few other things, and then anger fits in there somewhere. i'm at the anger stage.

every time i binge, there's this immediate thought of incredulity that directly follows, and then there's just anger. how could i let this happen? AGAIN?? do i have no self control whatsoever? is there nothing i can do to stop myself from eating everything in sight; to the point where my stomach is hard and bulging and just hurts. hurts so bad i can barely move.

but enough of my self-berating misery. after ten years of dealing with disordered eating, i know all of the red flags and all of the mistakes, the signals and the things i should and shouldn't do. i can recognize the negative thinking, the feelings that'll bring on a binge and what i should or could, in theory, do to avoid it. but somehow that hasn't helped.

so i'm angry. why me? what is it about my life and the way i've grown up and who i've become that has made me this way? why can't i get over this, or at least get it in check. all i know is that i'm looking forward to starting therapy more than i've looked forward to something in a really long time.

i guess my goal for the week is to avoid falling back into the hole. because at least today, i managed to crawl my way out. ok so honestly, i don't know if i've crawled out all the way yet or if i'm digging myself back into this proverbial hole. but all metaphors aside, i can't afford to let my life be taken over by bingeing. this week is mine, not my eating disorder's. this week i need to get work done, go to school, do yoga, maybe even go for a run or a swim or something. i don't need to binge, i don't need to feel like shit about myself, i don't need to sabotage my life.

more joy, less shame.

more joy less shame

my roommate is in the kitchen making banana bread while i'm supposed to be finishing a book i have to read for class. well, to be honest it's more like three books (one of which i have yet to buy), research to do on my thesis, a few meetings that i have on monday to prepare for, and a short paper to write. but i told myself i just had to read that one book.

except my mind keeps wandering to the STACK of things i ate this morning after getting back from breakfast with fred. (fred decided to profess his love to me last night after some serious bar hopping and naturally i sat there not believing a word he said and just wondering what the most tactful way would be to get out of the situation. i went to bed.) breakfast was fine (delicious even) except i couldn't stop thinking about the broccoli back home. i know i know, it's weird to crave broccoli. but i just kept wishing he would get on his bus to philly so i could be alone with my binge.

this morning after breakfast i ate: peanut butter with celery, pancakes, nutella, hummus on toast, pasta with cheese and sauce, broccoli, two luna bars, some peanuts and raisins, and a graham cracker peanut butter raisin sandwich.

you'll forgive me if my bulging stomach and the guilt of it all has been preventing me from being able to concentrate too hard on academia.

i told myself this morning - not unlike every morning - that today would be different. that i would eat when i was hungry that i would eat what i wanted that i wouldn't guilt myself for everything that passes my lips that i wouldn't feel ashamed of needing food. i guess i'll start again tomorrow with that endeavor.

so i guess i just jumped right in to this whole blog thing. (another form of procrastination, but this time maybe a good one!) and maybe i should put down a word or two of introduction. if simply for my own sake, when i'm old and have alzheimers and stumble across this thing not knowing what it is, right? anyway, this is basically just a place for me to write down all my shame. hence, more joy, less shame. because maybe if i can externalize it, it won't affect my life so much. ten years of eating disordered living and body image distortion and hating the way i look and honestly, i'm sick to death of it all. i just moved back to new york after about 7 months of being away, i'm going back into therapy starting in 2 weeks, and i'm ready to battle this fucker.

don't get me wrong. i don't have illusions about "curing" myself, or being free of eating disordered tendancies and thoughts, i just want to be able to live my life. preferably with more joy, less shame.