What's new, right? Right.
Life these days consists of: (weekday) wake up, study, eat, go to school, study, eat, study, eat, go to MCAT prep class, eat, study, sleep. Repeat. The weekend is not that much of a deviation, actually, just more disordered eating because I'm in my house more, and less structured study.
On the subject of eating: I was doing really badly when I first got back from Europe. I'm still not doing well, but I have improved. I also found out that the supposed laxatives I was taking weren't actual laxatives, which makes me feel simultaneously relieved and disappointed. I am feeling pretty good about my body notwithstanding the way I have been treating it, possibly because I know I don't really have time to remedy the maltreatment.
Study-wise: Organic Chem would be fun if I wasn't doing in the summer, specifically this summer. MCAT prep and Orgo at the same time, all condensed like this, is not conducive to avoiding burnout. Nope. Add onto this the stress of trying to figure out what schools I want to go to, how I'm going to fulfill all of the requirements of clinical experience and shadowing before I apply, etc. and I'm pretty much at my wits end. If I have any wits about me, that is.
Emotionally, I am fucked. I am so over doing anything with SJ, I am torn by not hearing from JB, and the attention-whore part of me wants to hear from CM (I don't honestly think that anything would come from it, I just would like to clarify some things.) I miss J, but wonder how I would feel if I saw him again. I got a pretty cute admission of fancying from VE, but I don't think anything is going to come from that, and if it did it would me just messing her around more than she deserves. I do that a lot. I am done with romantic love for a good while, I think. I'll stick to some good old friend-love (and no, not the kind of friend-lovin' I know I've done in the past.) I don't have time for it anyway.
Right, break over. Time to get back to studying.
Showing posts with label eating disorders. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eating disorders. Show all posts
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
kvetch, kvetch, kvetch
is all I can seem to do today. Organic chem since 8:30 (well, actually since 7, since I got up early to work on it) until 3, then a diagnostic for the MCAT from 6-10. The only good part about my day was I went for a run.
Then I stuffed my face with trail mix and have again abused the laxatives. It seems 'recovery' is not part of the picture right this moment.
Then I stuffed my face with trail mix and have again abused the laxatives. It seems 'recovery' is not part of the picture right this moment.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
This is one more day on the verge of tears
['Failure by Design', by Brand New]
I start to like my body, start to feel comfortable again despite disordered binge-starve patterns... and then I try on clothes that I think should fit, and they don't, and I want to break down and never eat again. Except I don't do that, instead I go an eat the best parts of a 28-serving package of peanut m+ms in 3 days. I gross myself out, and worry about the epigenetic traits I'll pass on to my grandkids. It's not the fat that grosses me out, it's the eating patterns. This is what makes me hate myself with a burning rage that is otherwise reserved for the likes of ignorant bigots.
I start to like my body, start to feel comfortable again despite disordered binge-starve patterns... and then I try on clothes that I think should fit, and they don't, and I want to break down and never eat again. Except I don't do that, instead I go an eat the best parts of a 28-serving package of peanut m+ms in 3 days. I gross myself out, and worry about the epigenetic traits I'll pass on to my grandkids. It's not the fat that grosses me out, it's the eating patterns. This is what makes me hate myself with a burning rage that is otherwise reserved for the likes of ignorant bigots.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Like a real life teddy bear... with a brain
{Q, whilst we were discussing what animal Dr.W should be-- we settled on an Ewok, even though [or maybe because] it's a fictitious creature, because nothing else seemed equally friendly, smart, and cute.}
Today in the computer room (where so much "studying" goes on-- read: gossip and sharing of hilarious youtube videos), the subject of Seth Rogen came up. I, being the entertainment black hole that I am (ie. I know nothing), did not know that he had lost a bunch of weight. Neither, it seems, did M, so we both looked up pictures to see what Q and JP were talking about. They said something about him looking 'almost too skinny' (whatever the hell that means.) Think about this: a few weeks ago, the same people were talking about Eliza Dushku as though she could have stood to lose those 10 pounds or so she allegedly dropped for Dollhouse to look "smoking". Does this not strike anyone else as a bit of a doozy? It's well known that society perceives it to be perfectly all right to be male and overweight (successful, etc.), and when he loses weight (for the Green Hornet movie he's going to make) it's not very long before there's talk of him getting close to being 'too skinny' and that he looked better with some chub. (NB: there are also plenty of other responses saying that he 'looks great now' and even that he could stand to lose a few more.) But overall? He lost a lot of weight, yes, but he's nowhere near the emaciation that is considered standard or even chubby for a woman in the same business. Tina Fey also lost a shitload of weight before she became a big hooha. Now excuse me, but that fucks me off. I really don't get this fetishistic idolization of skeletal, pre-pubescent women. I don't even get it in the depths of my eating disorder-- I never wanted to be like that, I always wanted to be strong and healthy; my body type is just such that the weight that I was aiming for to be that was also to the point on scarily skinny. I have a large frame (on occasion I will jokingly call it Amazonian) and so I will never be a size 0 or even a size 6. But you know what? I am sick of feeling like I need to squeeze into whatever size society deems "acceptable" to be categorized as thin. I am life-sized.
Today in the computer room (where so much "studying" goes on-- read: gossip and sharing of hilarious youtube videos), the subject of Seth Rogen came up. I, being the entertainment black hole that I am (ie. I know nothing), did not know that he had lost a bunch of weight. Neither, it seems, did M, so we both looked up pictures to see what Q and JP were talking about. They said something about him looking 'almost too skinny' (whatever the hell that means.) Think about this: a few weeks ago, the same people were talking about Eliza Dushku as though she could have stood to lose those 10 pounds or so she allegedly dropped for Dollhouse to look "smoking". Does this not strike anyone else as a bit of a doozy? It's well known that society perceives it to be perfectly all right to be male and overweight (successful, etc.), and when he loses weight (for the Green Hornet movie he's going to make) it's not very long before there's talk of him getting close to being 'too skinny' and that he looked better with some chub. (NB: there are also plenty of other responses saying that he 'looks great now' and even that he could stand to lose a few more.) But overall? He lost a lot of weight, yes, but he's nowhere near the emaciation that is considered standard or even chubby for a woman in the same business. Tina Fey also lost a shitload of weight before she became a big hooha. Now excuse me, but that fucks me off. I really don't get this fetishistic idolization of skeletal, pre-pubescent women. I don't even get it in the depths of my eating disorder-- I never wanted to be like that, I always wanted to be strong and healthy; my body type is just such that the weight that I was aiming for to be that was also to the point on scarily skinny. I have a large frame (on occasion I will jokingly call it Amazonian) and so I will never be a size 0 or even a size 6. But you know what? I am sick of feeling like I need to squeeze into whatever size society deems "acceptable" to be categorized as thin. I am life-sized.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Falling down to get back up
I started counting calories again today. Initially, I was going to do it to lose weight again, and I'll admit that's still part of it, but not in the same old keep-myself-under-1200-and-kill-myself-running bullcrap.
I don't want to feed into my eating disorder, but I also need to get some balance, and if counting calories helps, I'll do it. I'm approaching it as taking care of myself, though. More of the tone of writing stuff down so that I am holding myself accountable and am aware of what I am eating, so that I am present in that moment and enjoying what it is I'm putting in my mouth. So far today has been very successful, and I'm hopeful for the rest of the week. The plan is to continue like this until I feel stable, and then by then I will have the body trust to not need to count or write anything.
(I drew the picture above today as part of my self-care)
Yesterday I realized another strong fear of mine (as well as rejection): being forgotten. I guess that's why I'm always so honored when friends of mine from Copenhagen or Italy or England are so enthusiastic about the idea of visiting with me, even if we haven't communicated in yonks. And why I used to write--and ideally would still like to be writing (same old theme as all the classic poets, I know.) It's like Shelley (Percy Bysshe)'s Ozymandias, forgotten though he was apparently so powerful:
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
I don't have an empire or statues or even anything dedicated to me (as far as I know), and I don't need to be publicly remembered. I like attention, but that's far beyond what I want. What I would like is to have a lasting impression on all the people that I have a connection with. I don't need to inspire or change, but just leave a little indentation, a little mental or emotional 'Emma was here'. It's a selfish impulse, but I hardly think it's uncommon. It's like with T in Morton-- I took up the challenge because I wanted to see my effect (that's twisted.)-- and even with A, though in a far broader sense. Or maybe I just want feedback, want to know how I'm read so I can adjust it if it's in disparity with how I want to be? I know sometimes my meaning is interpreted differently than I intend, but is that because the other people are seeing what they want to, or because there's something off with my transmitter? (I just got an image of Batty from Fern Gully, with his little radio wires popping out of his head. I do feel like that sometimes-- though usually in the context of spouting random things because my conversational skills could use some help :P )
"Yo, the name is Batty / The logic is erratic / Potato in a jacket / Toys in the attic / I rock and I ramble / My brain is scrambled / Rap like an animal, but I'm a mammal."
(yep, Batty from Fern Gully, doing his rap.)
I just realized that I quote Batty almost every time I put on my glasses or contacts around somebody: "I can see! It's a miracle!" (I am aware that this may come from something else originally, but knowing how often I watched Fern Gully when I was ickle, I'm fairly certain I picked it up from here.) xD
I don't want to feed into my eating disorder, but I also need to get some balance, and if counting calories helps, I'll do it. I'm approaching it as taking care of myself, though. More of the tone of writing stuff down so that I am holding myself accountable and am aware of what I am eating, so that I am present in that moment and enjoying what it is I'm putting in my mouth. So far today has been very successful, and I'm hopeful for the rest of the week. The plan is to continue like this until I feel stable, and then by then I will have the body trust to not need to count or write anything.(I drew the picture above today as part of my self-care)
Yesterday I realized another strong fear of mine (as well as rejection): being forgotten. I guess that's why I'm always so honored when friends of mine from Copenhagen or Italy or England are so enthusiastic about the idea of visiting with me, even if we haven't communicated in yonks. And why I used to write--and ideally would still like to be writing (same old theme as all the classic poets, I know.) It's like Shelley (Percy Bysshe)'s Ozymandias, forgotten though he was apparently so powerful:
Ozymandias
I met a traveler from an antique landWho said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
I don't have an empire or statues or even anything dedicated to me (as far as I know), and I don't need to be publicly remembered. I like attention, but that's far beyond what I want. What I would like is to have a lasting impression on all the people that I have a connection with. I don't need to inspire or change, but just leave a little indentation, a little mental or emotional 'Emma was here'. It's a selfish impulse, but I hardly think it's uncommon. It's like with T in Morton-- I took up the challenge because I wanted to see my effect (that's twisted.)-- and even with A, though in a far broader sense. Or maybe I just want feedback, want to know how I'm read so I can adjust it if it's in disparity with how I want to be? I know sometimes my meaning is interpreted differently than I intend, but is that because the other people are seeing what they want to, or because there's something off with my transmitter? (I just got an image of Batty from Fern Gully, with his little radio wires popping out of his head. I do feel like that sometimes-- though usually in the context of spouting random things because my conversational skills could use some help :P )
"Yo, the name is Batty / The logic is erratic / Potato in a jacket / Toys in the attic / I rock and I ramble / My brain is scrambled / Rap like an animal, but I'm a mammal."
(yep, Batty from Fern Gully, doing his rap.)
I just realized that I quote Batty almost every time I put on my glasses or contacts around somebody: "I can see! It's a miracle!" (I am aware that this may come from something else originally, but knowing how often I watched Fern Gully when I was ickle, I'm fairly certain I picked it up from here.) xD
Friday, March 6, 2009
All this beauty (might have to close your eyes)*
(*more Weepies quotage. Yes yes.)
I wanted to share some pictures that I have saved on my computer from my many hours of random searching (interspersed)
I wrote Ju a rather incomprehensible email yesterday, basically saying that I can't see him like that anymore because I can't be myself around him. I do enjoy his company, but there's just something about him that smacks of JF, and I do not want to get myself into that kind of relationship again. He took it well, though he thinks it's the age difference. I figure, just let him think what he does, if the whole truth comes out later, then it does. I'd prefer to let it emerge organically than try to gouge it out.
Bit of a freak-out today. My knees ache, which makes me anxious about not being able to run (I keep joking that pretty soon I'll be made out of Ace bandages.) Then, instead of eating my packed lunch and going home to help mom make gnocchi, I went out to lunch with a couple of my cohorts. That part was fine, and the food doesn't make me feel guilty, but I had two big glasses of margarita, and the calories for that shit adds up fast. That's (to be entirely honest) why I stopped drinking in the first place. Plus I'm already over for this week, because I had some (very much conscious) binges earlier in the week, where my eating was almost aggressive, not healthy (in tone) at all. I feel like I've been steadily putting on weight for a while now, and I need to stop that, for the sake of my sanity. So I'm going to go back to counting
calories again, until I can gain some sense of control and balance. I'm going to focus on the usual mindful eating stuff, and I'm going to do it in my own company (H is letting me stay at hers while I take care of her cat, so I can be on my own footing and not have to worry about what my mom cooks/the contents of our pantry.) Spring break means I have time to read Osho and do yoga and come back to having some semblance of inner peace. I feel some arting and writing coming on, too. Just what I need before bunging myself into the second half of the term.
Sharing these helps me feel grounded, too. I'm being reminded of things that I love and thus who I really am, rather than who I am when I'm stressed out and all over the place.
Happy times.
I wanted to share some pictures that I have saved on my computer from my many hours of random searching (interspersed)I wrote Ju a rather incomprehensible email yesterday, basically saying that I can't see him like that anymore because I can't be myself around him. I do enjoy his company, but there's just something about him that smacks of JF, and I do not want to get myself into that kind of relationship again. He took it well, though he thinks it's the age difference. I figure, just let him think what he does, if the whole truth comes out later, then it does. I'd prefer to let it emerge organically than try to gouge it out.
Bit of a freak-out today. My knees ache, which makes me anxious about not being able to run (I keep joking that pretty soon I'll be made out of Ace bandages.) Then, instead of eating my packed lunch and going home to help mom make gnocchi, I went out to lunch with a couple of my cohorts. That part was fine, and the food doesn't make me feel guilty, but I had two big glasses of margarita, and the calories for that shit adds up fast. That's (to be entirely honest) why I stopped drinking in the first place. Plus I'm already over for this week, because I had some (very much conscious) binges earlier in the week, where my eating was almost aggressive, not healthy (in tone) at all. I feel like I've been steadily putting on weight for a while now, and I need to stop that, for the sake of my sanity. So I'm going to go back to counting
calories again, until I can gain some sense of control and balance. I'm going to focus on the usual mindful eating stuff, and I'm going to do it in my own company (H is letting me stay at hers while I take care of her cat, so I can be on my own footing and not have to worry about what my mom cooks/the contents of our pantry.) Spring break means I have time to read Osho and do yoga and come back to having some semblance of inner peace. I feel some arting and writing coming on, too. Just what I need before bunging myself into the second half of the term.
Sharing these helps me feel grounded, too. I'm being reminded of things that I love and thus who I really am, rather than who I am when I'm stressed out and all over the place.
Happy times.
Friday, February 27, 2009
How do I convince myself?
I feel horrible right now. I feel tired, unmotivated, dehydrated, and fat fat fat. I know, fat is not a bad thing. But right now, in my brain, I can concentrate on nothing but the bulges of my body and how my clothes don't fit right and how I had a double chin in a picture that my brother's wife took the other night. I haven't been this big in years, and it's really getting me down. I keep wanting to revert, to give in and start counting calories again, if only just until I've lost weight again. At very least, I would like to fit my clothes properly. I don't have money or desire for a new wardrobe.
I know it doesn't make sense. I know there's nothing wrong with fat. I know that I think that certain people in my life are fat and I love them think they are beautiful and I love that they're positive about it. But when it comes to my body, even at my skinniest I felt like I had fat, jiggly, cellulite-pocked thighs. I used to dislike being fucked in ways that made my back fat crease (or, as some would say, my skin.) And now, now when I am (or I feel I am, I don't actually know) as big as I was before I reached my goal weight in second year of uni, I have a hard time reconciling myself with it. Fat is what I blamed all of my problems on in middle school and high school, why I stayed in a relationship that I probably should have gotten out of, why I felt the need to slut myself out to people that I wasn't really attracted to at all. Fat has been blamed for rather a lot in my life, and it doesn't help to have so many people around me buying into the shit that I hate but subscribe to as well. How was I supposed to feel like I was enough for JF when I was fat/chubby when his comments about how hot I was increased a thousandfold when I lost weight? (It should be said that he said that I was enough, but I think you can see the disparity in the pattern, or maybe that was just me being overly sensitive to that sort of thing.) How is anyone supposed to feel like they're enough, in this bloody society where putting yourself down has become a spectator sport? I honestly and truly hate that I feel this way about myself. I want to love my fat. I want to be able to feel like I can be whatever and I will be loved no matter what, but there's something in the way, and I don't know what it is. But in the end, hating any part of myself, whether it's the horrible impulse to restrict (and hate) myself or not, is not conducive to actually getting better and being able to accept myself for what I am.
I need my Sark book back from SC. And possibly to borrow some books from S. And to read Osho. But instead? I have to study for bio, because otherwise I'm going to get another B on my test and I can't have that. Do you think I'm much of a perfectionist? Fuck.
I know it doesn't make sense. I know there's nothing wrong with fat. I know that I think that certain people in my life are fat and I love them think they are beautiful and I love that they're positive about it. But when it comes to my body, even at my skinniest I felt like I had fat, jiggly, cellulite-pocked thighs. I used to dislike being fucked in ways that made my back fat crease (or, as some would say, my skin.) And now, now when I am (or I feel I am, I don't actually know) as big as I was before I reached my goal weight in second year of uni, I have a hard time reconciling myself with it. Fat is what I blamed all of my problems on in middle school and high school, why I stayed in a relationship that I probably should have gotten out of, why I felt the need to slut myself out to people that I wasn't really attracted to at all. Fat has been blamed for rather a lot in my life, and it doesn't help to have so many people around me buying into the shit that I hate but subscribe to as well. How was I supposed to feel like I was enough for JF when I was fat/chubby when his comments about how hot I was increased a thousandfold when I lost weight? (It should be said that he said that I was enough, but I think you can see the disparity in the pattern, or maybe that was just me being overly sensitive to that sort of thing.) How is anyone supposed to feel like they're enough, in this bloody society where putting yourself down has become a spectator sport? I honestly and truly hate that I feel this way about myself. I want to love my fat. I want to be able to feel like I can be whatever and I will be loved no matter what, but there's something in the way, and I don't know what it is. But in the end, hating any part of myself, whether it's the horrible impulse to restrict (and hate) myself or not, is not conducive to actually getting better and being able to accept myself for what I am.
I need my Sark book back from SC. And possibly to borrow some books from S. And to read Osho. But instead? I have to study for bio, because otherwise I'm going to get another B on my test and I can't have that. Do you think I'm much of a perfectionist? Fuck.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Where is my mind?
At this moment, I should be doing some restriction mapping of some recombinant DNA. Instead, I am going to blog. I am excellent at procrastinating, I know. There are a few things on my mind that I feel the need to relieve before I can get anything done efficiently (and I need to wake up a bit more, to boot.)
So I reassessed Saturday night/Sunday morning, and I think I was just being over dramatic and there was still fondness... but as much as I enjoy his company, I don't think I'm falling as hard as I thought I was before. Maybe it's just me doing my usual distancing thing, or maybe that's just the way it is, but either way I think it's healthier for me, so I'm a little relieved. That being said, I'm still planning to keep very busy as soon as he leaves --including during Spring Break, which I believe will not be spent at Cocoa Beach with some of my cohorts because I'm just too different from them. Maybe I'll convince S to go to Fort Lauderdale or something. Or go camping. Or maybe I'll go see A in Texas (ooh v. good distraction)... anything to divert myself, basically. I suppose I should crack down on my studying, too.
A few days ago I sent Ju an email apologizing for being so rubbish about keeping in contact with him. I didn't explain anything about J, I just said some stuff about being a little emotionally messed up and that I appreciated his messages. He sent me back an email yesterday that said that he had been a little worried about me, and that he thinks I'm an amazing person that he has enjoyed spending time with... and then he asked me if I had an eating disorder. His sister and some of his last girlfriends have apparently had troubles with this, and he recognized it in me. He said some (intelligent and eloquent) things about it, and about how he understands in some ways because he's had similar issues except with sex (which definitely raised my eyebrows) and that he's figured it out a bit recently with the help of Osho book he lent me (among other things.)
It hit me really hard, that I am that transparent (at least, to him. There was something later that I'll touch upon.) I certainly don't try to hide it, since I feel like that just feeds into it, but I didn't think I was that apparent (and, it just hit me, I probably think this because I feel like I'm not skinny enough for it to be physically apparent.)
Then, later, when Q was talking about her friend that weighs out everything she eats and is obsessive about exercizing and eating right, I got really alarmed-- it sounded so much like how I used to be-- and said something (almost on the verge of tears) about how I was recovering, and that was why I got so worried. There I was, with Q, M, and H, telling them this, and they had little to no reaction. (That being said, I think if I was alone with M she would have. Q and H are kind of awkward around me, though. Or just in general.) I guess it was kind of out of place, and I didn't want a large reaction or anything... I just expected some kind of response. Like an indication that they didn't expect it, or even something that told me that they did. It just felt odd to have nothing said about it at all.
With all that said, I'm really having trouble these days with my eating. I've been eating when I'm not hungry, when I'm bored, when I don't want to work, when I need a break in between working, when I come home... whenever. I'm not listening to my body, and then I get upset about putting on weight, as much as I think that it shouldn't matter. I don't have a problem with other people having fat. I'm not even attracted to skinny girls (I am to skinny boys, though, strangely enough. But my attraction to guys has always been kind of weird and not about their body at all.) When it comes to my body, though, I don't want it. Or, at least, not this much. I can run again (which is amazing and I love it) which makes me feel like maybe I'll lose a bit again, but at the same time I don't want to fall back into the pattern of binging and then compensating like I used to do. I'm going to try hard to regain my balance without running as a crutch: to be able to enjoy running and not use it to rationalize the crap I stuff into my mouth without thinking, or to feel like I must go for a run to make up for overeating.
I also feel really shitty about my decision to go vegetarian to cut the cost and stress that catering to a vegan was causing my family. I like cheese and yogurt, yes. My choice to go vegan was never about likes or dislikes. The first few days it felt like my relationship with my mom was less strained than it has been in a while, so that made it feel a little better. Now, though, I'm just feeling like I'm gratuitously eating stuff that I don't agree with eating. I know that part of the reason my mom thought I went vegan was to make it easier to have my ED... and on some level she's right, but it's not what she thinks. It's about control, about being able to choose to have something that I am ethically all right with and not have to deal with the rich foods that she cooks sometimes. Maybe it's a hangover from the idea that her cooking is part of what made me chubby in high school (even though in reality I know it was the eating patterns that I picked up from her.) The control aspect of it was that I knew I wouldn't get to cook in her kitchen, no matter how often she says that she'll let me. Now that I've taken away the vegan part, I feel like I have less control than ever, so me being scared about that is, ironically, fueling some binges that make me want to fall back into my ED all over again. I did have a bit of a lapse of writing down everything I eat, but not to the extent it was-- really just generally trying to sum up how much I was over and (I'll admit it) thinking about how much I would need to earn to not gain any more. I'm trying to reign in that impulse, though.
One step back to take two steps forward-- isn't that how the saying goes?
So I reassessed Saturday night/Sunday morning, and I think I was just being over dramatic and there was still fondness... but as much as I enjoy his company, I don't think I'm falling as hard as I thought I was before. Maybe it's just me doing my usual distancing thing, or maybe that's just the way it is, but either way I think it's healthier for me, so I'm a little relieved. That being said, I'm still planning to keep very busy as soon as he leaves --including during Spring Break, which I believe will not be spent at Cocoa Beach with some of my cohorts because I'm just too different from them. Maybe I'll convince S to go to Fort Lauderdale or something. Or go camping. Or maybe I'll go see A in Texas (ooh v. good distraction)... anything to divert myself, basically. I suppose I should crack down on my studying, too.
A few days ago I sent Ju an email apologizing for being so rubbish about keeping in contact with him. I didn't explain anything about J, I just said some stuff about being a little emotionally messed up and that I appreciated his messages. He sent me back an email yesterday that said that he had been a little worried about me, and that he thinks I'm an amazing person that he has enjoyed spending time with... and then he asked me if I had an eating disorder. His sister and some of his last girlfriends have apparently had troubles with this, and he recognized it in me. He said some (intelligent and eloquent) things about it, and about how he understands in some ways because he's had similar issues except with sex (which definitely raised my eyebrows) and that he's figured it out a bit recently with the help of Osho book he lent me (among other things.)
It hit me really hard, that I am that transparent (at least, to him. There was something later that I'll touch upon.) I certainly don't try to hide it, since I feel like that just feeds into it, but I didn't think I was that apparent (and, it just hit me, I probably think this because I feel like I'm not skinny enough for it to be physically apparent.)
Then, later, when Q was talking about her friend that weighs out everything she eats and is obsessive about exercizing and eating right, I got really alarmed-- it sounded so much like how I used to be-- and said something (almost on the verge of tears) about how I was recovering, and that was why I got so worried. There I was, with Q, M, and H, telling them this, and they had little to no reaction. (That being said, I think if I was alone with M she would have. Q and H are kind of awkward around me, though. Or just in general.) I guess it was kind of out of place, and I didn't want a large reaction or anything... I just expected some kind of response. Like an indication that they didn't expect it, or even something that told me that they did. It just felt odd to have nothing said about it at all.
With all that said, I'm really having trouble these days with my eating. I've been eating when I'm not hungry, when I'm bored, when I don't want to work, when I need a break in between working, when I come home... whenever. I'm not listening to my body, and then I get upset about putting on weight, as much as I think that it shouldn't matter. I don't have a problem with other people having fat. I'm not even attracted to skinny girls (I am to skinny boys, though, strangely enough. But my attraction to guys has always been kind of weird and not about their body at all.) When it comes to my body, though, I don't want it. Or, at least, not this much. I can run again (which is amazing and I love it) which makes me feel like maybe I'll lose a bit again, but at the same time I don't want to fall back into the pattern of binging and then compensating like I used to do. I'm going to try hard to regain my balance without running as a crutch: to be able to enjoy running and not use it to rationalize the crap I stuff into my mouth without thinking, or to feel like I must go for a run to make up for overeating.
I also feel really shitty about my decision to go vegetarian to cut the cost and stress that catering to a vegan was causing my family. I like cheese and yogurt, yes. My choice to go vegan was never about likes or dislikes. The first few days it felt like my relationship with my mom was less strained than it has been in a while, so that made it feel a little better. Now, though, I'm just feeling like I'm gratuitously eating stuff that I don't agree with eating. I know that part of the reason my mom thought I went vegan was to make it easier to have my ED... and on some level she's right, but it's not what she thinks. It's about control, about being able to choose to have something that I am ethically all right with and not have to deal with the rich foods that she cooks sometimes. Maybe it's a hangover from the idea that her cooking is part of what made me chubby in high school (even though in reality I know it was the eating patterns that I picked up from her.) The control aspect of it was that I knew I wouldn't get to cook in her kitchen, no matter how often she says that she'll let me. Now that I've taken away the vegan part, I feel like I have less control than ever, so me being scared about that is, ironically, fueling some binges that make me want to fall back into my ED all over again. I did have a bit of a lapse of writing down everything I eat, but not to the extent it was-- really just generally trying to sum up how much I was over and (I'll admit it) thinking about how much I would need to earn to not gain any more. I'm trying to reign in that impulse, though.
One step back to take two steps forward-- isn't that how the saying goes?
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