Oops!

It is now almost half-way through October, and I have not posted since September. All I can say is, Oopps! My life has been crazy busy, and to be honest, I haven't had much time to spare to update this puppy. Having said that...it seems I have also regressed a little in my recovery. I'll update you on everything in my life as of now...

Boyfriend: 

Significant change in this category, since I no longer have one. Yup. G broke up with me probably about a month ago or so. To be honest, it was one of the strangest break-ups I have gone through. Not that I have much experience with break-ups, since that was the second relationship I have ever been in...but I had the strangest reaction to it all. It happened on a Sunday, after I had a pretty emotional weekend. I was diagnosed with General Anxiety Disorder, panic attacks, and mild OCD tendencies on Friday, proceeded to go get a tattoo, and then had a panic attack at 2am on Sunday morning (before the break-up due to a Saturday filled of day-drinking and fights with G). But I have labeled my reaction strange, because I knew it was coming. I wasn't happy, he wasn't happy, and we both knew it. He was the one to actually have the guts to do it. I was just hanging along because I liked the routine I had established with him. But I wasn't in love, and I didn't foresee myself falling in love with him. It is weird to analyze the relationship in such a way, because I feel no hate, resentment or anger with him. Nor do I miss him. I miss the thought of having a boyfriend to place house with and who kisses me on the forehead, but I do not miss G specifically...other than our intellectual conversations. Even saying that, I struggled with how stubborn and stuck he was in his own opinions. With recovery, I have tried to open-up and be more accepting of others and their views, yet he was the exact opposite. When I would try to explain where I was coming from, I felt criticized and misunderstood. Proudly I can say that I deleted him from my phone (predicting I would do the usual and drunk text when I was lonely and had indulged a little too much), and have yet to contact him in such a way. The only times we have spoken have been to acquire items we had left at each other's places and the occasional house party in which we have mutual friends. The only issue I have with the entire thing, is I wish we could skip passed the awkwardness and move onto being friends. As of now, when we see each other, his silence and my general need to overcompensate for it leads to rushed greetings and brief, stiff hugs. I keep telling myself that I must ask to talk with him in order to establish the fact that I am ok with the breakup, in fact, it has been really good for me and made my life much less anxious, and that I wish we could be friends rather than avoid each others eye contact. Soon enough, soon enough. 

Health:

As I mentioned above, I was diagnosed with GAD, panic disorder (which I already knew I had), and mild OCD tendencies. I am now taking Celexa daily (40mg), Ambien (to sleep at night), and Xanax (whenever I have a panic attack). The anti-anxiety meds have helped tremendously with my overwhelming anxious thoughts, but the side-effects have been less than fun. I get really shaky, nauseas, have absolutely no sex-drive and still cannot sleep, and the strangest side-effect has been the excessive yawning. I'm glad to finally have a diagnosis, but I am not doing too well in other parts of my health. Unfortunately, I have to admit, I have been back to exercising too much. I am limiting it to less than two hours, but I have not been consistent with taking 2 days off. Because I have been eating more, I have deemed it necessary to exercise more. Ugh. I don't know if this would be considered relapse, but I guess you could call it that since I am restricting in the sense of compensating calories taken in by exercising away. I have noticed that I am much more removed from my social life and friends again, and sometimes would rather sleep or hang out by myself than see them. This is in part to my hectic schedule with classes and teaching, but still, I do not want to go back to that place. I am still maintaining and need to gain weight. I have a new therapist who is much more goal-oriented, and she makes me nervous because I know she will hold me accountable. We have met a few times now, set goals for my recovery, and have focused on ridding myself of my anorexic behaviors (number one being over-exercise). My parents come on Thursday, and I am worried what they will say, since they are paying for all of this, yet I still haven't gained any weight. 

Food:

Another concern I have is my addiction to sugar. I save calories up in the day so that I may eat ice cream and Milk Duds at night. I don't know whether I should view this as an addiction to sugar, or the fact that my body is just telling me that it needs more fats. No matter what, I do not like the fact that I have been eating so much sugar, and I think it has been contributing to my afternoon and evening headaches. This is something I know I need to address. I need the fats, but they should be from avocados, olive oil, and fish rather than junk food. And I should be adding them, not compensating for them in other parts of my meals and diet. I promise to feed myself health foods and get back on track with eating what is good for my health rather than things that make me feel icky. 

School/Daily Life:

My schedule is crazy. I have class on Mondays 4:30-7. I teach Tuesdays and Thursdays 8:00-4:00, I teach Wednesdays and then have class (8:00-7:00) and Fridays I have class 9-3. By the end of the week, I am absolutely exhausted, but then will go out on Friday nights. I force myself to exercise almost every morning, waking up at 4:20 am, and go to bed around 9-10 pm every night. I love how my days are filled with activities, and I absolutely love teaching and my students (especially math), but I am worried about being lonely. As I said above, I am glad I am no longer dating G, and I do not think I honestly have time in my life for a relationship in general, but I am still on the lookout for someone, even just a friendship. My girlfriends are great (though I get annoyed because many times I feel like I ask them to do too many things and don't get responses back to my texts), but I have always connected to men more for some reason. It may be due to the fact that I have much in common with them, or that my personality is much more like a guys, but the reasons don't matter. I just hate feeling lonely and I want someone to do things with on the weekends and what not. I am a social human being, and I also love to do activities like go to the park, play with puppies, go on adventures, go to farmer's markets, go shopping, just do something! I love being outside and I love interacting with people...now if only I could find a male-counterpart that appreciates the same things! I'm on the prowl....watch out boys! 

Roommate:

Basically, I know she is bulimic and an alcoholic. She is depressed and lonely, and I am worried. She has been gaining weight ever since we moved in, and she generally won't eat around me. When she does eat, she will go "shower" or "take a bath" about 15-30 minutes after, in which I know she is actually purging. During the week, when I go to bed supper early, I will hear her in the kitchen binging on food. She still hides the bottles of alcohol and gets inebriated on weekends. We had an awkward encounter this weekend when we were both at the same bar, and the next day she didn't even remember seeing me. I don't know what to do. I almost resent her because I hate what she is doing to herself. I have tried talking to her, but I don't know what else to do. I was so filled with shame and guilt when I was bulimic, and hated anyone that said anything to me. I would defend myself and deny it to everyone and anyone, and my behaviors became even more secretive when I thought someone was catching on. I have to live with this girl, and in rather close quarters, or else I would do what I did with my last bulimic roommate (left her a note saying I knew, I was there for her and gave her a reference card for eating disorder help). AGH! I know that I am going to have to say something sooner rather than later...but I fear what will happen if I do. Will she want to move out? Will our relationship end? But then I have to ask myself, is it worth it to live with someone who is consciously destroying themselves? I found help and she deserves the same. Hmmm...Advice? 

There you have it. A pretty thorough update if I do say so myself. 

Goal:

1. Cut-back on the exercise (and hold yourself accountable!!!!!) and eat EVERYTHING on the meal plan

2. Limit the sugars and junk food and get the fat you need from "healthy fats"- avo, olive oil, etc.

3. Figure out how you are going to approach this roommate thing. The sooner the better. 

Labor Day Weekend

My last week was insane, stressful, and I resorted back to my controlling powers of my eating disorder. I was rigid and strict with my intake. I was still eating, but cutting back ever so-slightly.  Like I had to prepare for an out-of-control calorie intake from the weekend (cause it was not only my birthday, but I was also going camping/drinking). Anyway, last week sucked. And I'm almost positive that if I had been weighed, I would have been down a significant amount. Well, guess what? It is now Monday, I just returned from the lake/camping...and to be honest, I feel kinda "normal". Not only did I take three days off in a row of my rigid exercise schedule, but I still managed to make myself eat. And it was fairly healthy amounts of foods (plus a little alcohol) throughout the weekend. Though I cringe a little inside when I admit that I took of three days (I feel overwhelming guilt and I fear the idea that I am lazy/panic that I am out of my routine, etc). I am also proud. Proud that I proved to myself that I can break my routine, and be somewhat "normal". I also figured out a bunch of stuff for school which is reassuring, because I really did not want to be placed in the school I was for my student teaching. Now that is kinda worked out, I'm feeling less stressed. GAH I have so much going through my mind right now that I want to write down, and say...but at the same time, I don't really want to. I want to order books, browse Facebook, clean my clothes, etc. Anyway, my birthday sucked. I was ditched by my boyfriend and my friends, and woke up extremely hungover and lonely. In the past, I would have come home and resorted to emotional eating and sadness/misery, but instead, I didn't eat a thing (which I probably actually should have), and then woke up in the morning, and talked to G (my boyfriend) about what upset me. Huh? Wait, what? I have really come this far? Where I don't use food as an emotional healing power and I actually express to people when I am upset or hurt? Who woulda thought?
On that note, I really hate how drinking makes me feel. It brings out my anxiety to the fullest, and I really think I should see a psychiatrist. On Saturday, when I was struggling through my hangover, anxiety, and stress, I thought A LOT. Anxiety makes me think and worry about EVERYTHING, but mainly about my future/my finances. While thinking, I wondered how come I have yet to actually see a psychiatrist? How did I get the diagnosis of anorexic without actually going to one? I guess it was through my going to a therapist, etc., but shouldn't I have also been examined in order to determine other mental health issues I may have? Like this ridiculous amount of anxiety? Or my exercise addiction/OCD? Welp, just emailed my therapist about setting that up, so guess we shall get that handled. Anyway, drinking makes me so happy when I am doing it, and it makes it so I don't think about my eating disorder, I don't think about my worries, I just focus on having fun. But then I get hit with the exact opposite and it is AWEFUL. Except, this weekend, when I was slowly drinking up in the mountains with my friends, I didn't have the anxiety...but I think that is a whole different story.
In fact, on our way back to Denver, from the mountains, as soon as I saw the city skyline, I started to feel anxious. Yet another sign that I am not a city girl. It makes me anxious, tense, and kinda unhappy. I can handle it at times, and have fun, but I will not live in a city much longer. Thank god I am young, and pursuing a career that allows one to move about fairly freely and find employment.
In regards to school/teaching, I am really hoping I made the right choice and feel that I have. I was really doubting my choice after I made it, but changing schools seems right. Let me fill you in on the details. I was originally placed in a Montessori, which was a 20-25 minute commute away, in a school that I honestly got a bad vibe from in the beginning. The mentor teacher was nice, the school was diverse, etc., but it wasn't what I envisioned for my in-class teaching experience. As of now, I do not see myself living in Denver or anywhere near schools that are free-reduced lunch, with a lot of diversity and poverty. Though I would love to make a change and have nothing against that, and feel that it is a noble cause, again, I do not plan on living in an area that I would be surrounded by that. Of course it is beneficial to my growth and change as a person and a teacher, I wanted to find a school/experience that would best prepare me for my future. And my future now looks like it is going to be in a smaller town, near a ski mountain, lakes, etc., not in an Urban area. Plus, the Montessori dynamic, and the young age really did not appeal to me. I have now been placed in a school that is extremely close to DU, and is actually the same school the kids I nanny for went to. Of course that means there is little to no diversity, and the teachers and school is extremely traditional, but I think it fits what I will most likely see in my own career as a teacher. I have this thought in my mind saying "you should be part of the change, you should help those that need you most, you should assist in the under-privalged because you are a strong believer that they deserve a quality education, etc." but I also know that I am not happy in the city world. I don't want to come across as snotty or unaccepting, I just have been spending an excessive amount of time figuring out what I want to do, where I want to be, my passions, my dislikes, etc., and being/living is a city is not something I hope to be doing in the next five years. So you know what? I'm gonna say I am happy with my decision, it was the right move for me, and I will face challenges, but I WILL overcome them.

Ok, that was much longer of a post then I had planned on, but here is a final note. My friend posted this on Facebook today, I just have to share. Much love.
-A

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls.

He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it
was. So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was. The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with an unanimous "yes." The professor then produced two cans of beer from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things--your family, your children, your health, your friends, your favorite passions--things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car. The sand is everything else--the small stuff. If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your spouse out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house, and fix the disposal. "Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the beer
represented.

The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you
that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for acouple of beers."

Weekend Wrap-up

Sunday comes once again. I find myself feeling extremely anxious today for some reason. I think a lot of it has to do with finances and the fact that I am questioning my decision of grad school again. I love what I am doing (most of the time), but I keep thinking I should be doing something that will make more money. I don't know where this concern originates from, and to be honest, I have been really good about saving my money and being rather frugal (in comparison to the way I was before) lately, however, I find that this is something I feel very stressed about. Maybe it has to do with my father and the way I was raised, or maybe it is because I am not making any money...I don't know. What I do know is that finances is the root of much of my anxiety. Working this summer I felt much less stressed out because I had a source of income. With that being said, I was not happy at my job, and the days dragged on. Now that I am in school, I'm much more fulfilled with what I am doing, however I have no source of income so that leads to more anxiety. I have considered getting a job, but I do not want to add even more to my life right now, especially since I will start to student teach in the beginning of September. I suppose I need to realize that this is what it is like to be a student, and that it will hopefully pay off in the long-run with a career...though it is a career path where money is not incentive (because pay is so low for teachers).

GAHHH. I recognize that money clearly is a huge stressor in my life. I hate having to rely on my parents, but I feel so much angst whenever they try to have me learn about money and budgeting. I know that I really need to, but for some reason I fear it. I think this fear comes from realizing that I am growing up and can no longer rely on my parents anymore. I must take on more responsibility and with that, comes managing and balancing my finances and spending habits. Its funny because when I read about my "personality" in different horoscope books/websites, it says that I am supposed to be very financially aware and good with money...yet I feel I am the exact opposite. Again, there is a fear and anxiety I associate with anything financial, and I would rather have someone do it for me than the responsibility falling on me. It could be because I hate the thought of failing or being lesser in someway than others, so I divorce the thought of taking full responsibility so that I always have my parents to fall back on? Will I do this until I meet my husband? No. I recognize I need to address this issue and really take control of it, but I keep pushing it to the wayside because it causes such emotional turmoil and excessive thoughts of worry.

Another thing I have been thinking about, is the fact that through my illness, I have realized how much I have desired to be considered "weak". Well, I think weak is the wrong word..I guess vulnerable? I've always felt so much pressure to be perfect in every way, especially being strong and independent. Now I am realizing that its ok to be vulnerable. Its ok to open up to others, to cry, to ask for a hug, to let others see you when you can't hold back your tears. In fact, this proves that you are human, you are real, and you deserve to break-down every once in a while...cause if you didn't, how would you ever be built back up? How could you ever experience or appreciate happiness? You couldn't. You must experience pain and sadness in order to appreciate the opposite end of the spectrum.

A little update on my health/recovery status. I went to my dietician last week and was weighed....weight went down. Although I am usually weighed in the morning right after I eat, this time I was weighed in the afternoon (after class) and hadn't eaten since lunch at noon. I attribute a little bit of the weight difference to that, but my dietician knows that and still mentioned it, which means upping my food intake. I have to add another Ensure into my diet. Sweet. That means three Ensures a day. And I say I'm worried about finances and want to save money yet I am having to buy these over-priced nutritional drinks in mass quantities? Wouldn't that be enough of an incentive to eat more food or cut back even more on exercise? Nope. Still doesn't work. I have to push past this point in my weight, but it is so difficult to not listen to my body's natural signals. I say this because I haven't been in-tune with my hunger cues since I can remember. Food and eating has been something I have struggled with for such an extended period, that now that I am finally able to recognize actual hunger and satisfaction, I am struggling pushing past that because of my past in binging. I fear that it will trigger the scary binge-eating I used to struggle with, and I HATE the feeling of an overly-full stomach. My stomach, in fact, is one of the parts of my body I have been most self-conscious about, so this fear makes sense as well as the strong desire to avoid ever feeling like I over-ate or binged again. When I was doing that, I was out of control and the food controlled me. Now I have all of the control, I can listen and hear my body, and I never want to lose that. That's why Ensure is so easy to handle right before I go to bed. I know what I have eaten that day, and I am ok with adding on something that I do not desire and will eventually be able to cut out. But I still need to overcome this fear of returning to my old ways. I haven't binged or purged in months, and it feels amazing. But I am still not gaining weight. I need to either add more food throughout the day, cut-back even more on exercise, or truly make sure that I am drinking all of the Ensure's my nutritionist tells me to.

This week marks the final week of my summer classes...which also means final projects, papers, and a ton of reading. I will be turning 22 this week as well, oh boy! I've never been one who really cares about my birthday, so I am not holding my expectations very high...hopefully my friends will hang out with me and I will be able to have a good time with them all.

Until next time.

Change

I woke up this morning, at my usual 5:32 am, and the first thought that entered my mind was, "What if I didn't run today, what if I broke my habit and took three days off in a row from exercising? Can I do it?" I immediately shut-down the thought out of fear of losing control, not being able to take the weekend off, etc., and put on my running shoes. As soon as I was out the door, I instantly began to feel the "high" of my morning ritual. Ok, so I'm not yet ready to cut back even more on my exercise (I'm limited to five days a week, no longer than 1 hr and 30 minutes each session)...but since I can't do that, then I need to do something else. So here in lies the change I have finally committed myself to.

To be honest, the change began this weekend when I forced myself to drink my Ensure and maintain my meal plan without exercise completely. In fact, I hardly left my apartment this weekend, due to all of my work for grad school, so it was a really big push because I felt so lazy and undeserving of the extra calories/food. With that being said, I still managed to do it, and today marks my first day of actually forcing myself to have the second Ensure in the afternoon. (My meal plan consists of three meals, two snacks, and dessert every night. I am also supposed to have one Ensure in the morning and one in the afternoon, but I have not been able to overcome the fear/lack of hunger I face in the afternoons that allows me to drink that second Ensure). On that note, I have successfully added that today, and am feeling ok.

Ok, because I came home and was really hungry, and would usually reach for a piece of fruit or something relatively low in calories to keep me going until an early dinner around 5:30-6ish where I would then eat my normal dinner, but today I did it. I sucked down that calorie-laden chocolate drink (which, to be completely honest, I don't really mind the taste of) and forced myself to not think about how I would cut-out those calories in the rest of my meal plan or work them out later. Nope. No more of that. Through this challenge, I have also realized another component of my recovery/nutrition. When meeting with my nutritionist last week, she kept asking how we could get my weight up. My only response was that I needed to add the extra Ensure, and was completely closed-off to the thought of adding more calories through food. I left wondering why I so openly refused adding more food. When she originally mentioned it, my first complaint was that I wasn't hungry enough for more food and that liquid calories were easier because I didn't feel so uncomfortable. Reflecting upon it now, I think it also has to do with the fact that these Ensures are eventually going to be cut-out of my diet (hopefully in the near future), and that I then will not have to worry about consuming such high-calorie drinks. I continued to ponder this thought, and realized that I've been drinking weight-gain drinks since I have entered recovery (Ensures and Scandishakes) and I haven't put on much weight at all. In fact, I've been hovering around the same weight, going down, then back to the same point, but never going over, since I entered recovery. I translate that to the fact that my body NEEDs those calories I am getting from those drinks...so why don't I try and add them through foods rather than these expensive, sickly drinks?

 I catch myself trying to rationalize and analyze in order to convince myself/reconfirm to myself that I am still not eating enough. Its so hard because I am so focused on hard-facts and logics, and I truly do not understand the science behind metabolism, calorie-burn, exercise, etc. In fact, I don't think anyone truly knows what is going on in a person's body. I say this because my dietician tested my metabolism, which surprise surprise was extremely low, and told me the amount of calories I would need per day in order to function (not counting any additional exercise). I consume those calories, at a minimum, and actually go over those daily calories in attempts to gain weight...but then how come, after all of these weeks, and all of these extra calories, I am still not gaining weight and have even lost weight? Wouldn't this reflect a hyper-metabolism? The answer no. Shouldn't I gain weight? Well, I'm not, so no again. So what the shit is going on in my stomach? Also, side-note, lately I have been feeling constipated/bloated and extremely uncomfortable after eating. I have been regularly taking my enzymes, but it is really making me believe that I have some intolerances/maybe some allergies to foods that I am unaware of. If I were to have to narrow it down, my main issue appears to stem from dairy. Don't get me wrong, I am in no way trying to avoid the consumption of dairy due to this uncomfortableness, but I have been experiencing pain and misery after eating. Oh boy. What to do what to do. It seems everything just piles on one after another. I guess I will just push through and hope that eventually my body will adjust. I meet with the nutritionist to be weighed on Friday. I guess we will see then if this "change" puts some meat on these bones. Until then....

PS: I do not know my weight and have not known it since my third week of recovery in January. My first nutritionist asked me if I was willing to give her my scale, and at my next appointment I happily gave it away. Before my anorexia began, I did not weigh myself at all and in-fact, was almost too ashamed to weigh myself because I was on the heavier side when I was struggling with bulimia. As I fell into my anorexic patterns, I actually went out and bought a scale and began weighing myself almost three times a day. That lasted almost two months, and as soon as my nutritionist asked if I could give it up, I saw it as an instant out of the sick cycle I had begun. So since then I have not known that number, and to be honest, it was one of the most powerful decisions I have made in my recovery.

Lonely

I knew this weekend was not going to top the charts in "FUN" but I did not expect to be this lonely. G is gone for the weekend doing his usual mountain man adventures, and K is spending the weekend in CO Springs with a friend from home. This leaves A, me, all by my lonesome. Granted I have an excessive amount of homework and projects to be doing for school, I am still not very happy about all of this alone time. It makes me realize how much I actually hate being alone. Well, not hate, because of course everyone needs time to themselves, but I really am a social being. I do not like to be inside, by myself, not talking, all. day. long. I guess that is probably fairly human of me, but still. I have been reaching out to my friends that live in the same apartment complex as me, but it seems they have other plans. I think I should go out! Do something! But then I think about all the school work I have to do, and how this is my opportunity to get ahead so I can be less stressed for the weeks to come (especially since my birthday is in 12 days).
I hate when G leaves. I wouldn't mind it so much on the weekdays when I am so busy, but the weekends are when I do not have such a rigid schedule and I love to spend time with him. To be honest, a lot of it revolves around the fact that these are my "day-off" days. As in day-off from exercising, but also day off from my strict eating rituals, my waking up early, my processes, etc. These are the days I allow myself a little more wiggle room...which also leads to more anxiety and stress if they are not filled with mind-distracting activities. I let myself eat different foods, etc., but again, that leads to fear and anxiety, hence the reason I turn to G. He is my support, whether he knows it or not, and with him there, I sense more freedom and strength. I can push myself further knowing G will be there to hold me if I fall. He distracts my mind from thinking about control, structure, perfection. G teaches me to appreciate imperfections, and although we do not always meet eye-to-eye, I thank G for his opposing views.
Yesterday I wanted so badly to socialize, but I did not want to be around alcohol. My relationships with alcohol is interesting. One to two drinks in, I feel great and loosened up, especially after a long day (or week). But I only allow myself these few drinks when I am with G. If not, I do not see it necessary to waste the calories/high....but why? I do not know. When it comes to the drinking I do with my friends, it is a whole different story. Their focus is all about excess. Drink drink drink drink drink, shot shot shot shot, beer beer beer beer. Sometimes I sympathize and will partake in this activity, but the next day is ALWAYS filled with regret, depression and misery. I'm usually ok if G is there, but if he isn't, the guilt, shame and anxiety tend to overwhelm and incapacitate me. Its funny how this "drug" is used by so many in our society, and how differently it effects people. Some use it socially, some don't use it at all, and some use it excessively to the point where it is an addiction. But we all have our vices right? Some have drugs, like alcohol, but then there are others who are addicted to gambling, shopping, and others, like me, who are addicted to exercise. The thing that really gets to me about alcohol is how it can induce such conflicting feelings. Extreme happiness then extreme depression. Hm. The human brain and chemical reactions...
So last night, I literally spent about two hours debating whether to go out or not. My thought process went from yes definitely, to I have so much work to do tomorrow, to how will I get home because I am so tired I know I will want to go home earlier than everybody else, to the cost of the cab, to the cost of drinks, to being hungover the next morning, and so on and so on. (Oh, and did I forget to mention that not only is it "my time of the month", but I also just so happened to pretty much slice off the tip of my thumb while making dinner so I was splurting blood out of two places in my body and neither seemed to be stopping anytime in the near future (sorry for the visual).) Sometimes I wish I could just be told what to do. I wanted to see my friends, but I wish that didn't always have to entail drinking. I wish we could be social and not have to "get blackout" and go to the bars. The social scene can be so expensive and absurd sometimes. Another reason why I am thankful for G. I know that we can go to the movies, spend a night at home, just enjoy one another's company, but at times I also feel pressure from him. I trust this pressure though, it pushes me out of my element in a healthy way rather than a mind-numbing, booze hound way. I recognize I am young and labeled as the age to go out, get drunk, live life, party, but at times I just want to curl up on the couch, watch a movie and go to bed by 10 pm! Sorry I'm not living up to expectations, but I like to think of myself as an old soul in a young body and it is necessary to please that old soul every so often.
Now I feel I have splurged on that old soul and need a god damn glass of wine and a cute boy to smile at me (sorry G, I like ya, but I need confirmation from other guys that I'm attractive too). I've literally spent the ENTIRE day inside my apartment and have fully acclimated to the smell of smoke (from the previous tenants) which is a sure sign that I need to get the F out of this place. Most of my homework is done (not at all but I do not foresee much more progress occurring this afternoon), and I can hear the wanna-be-post-college-frat-bros doming PBR down at the pool...ahhh the sweet sweet sound of "transitioning adults" getting wasted on a Saturday afternoon. The sounds of a potential future? Or the past?

Back to School

On Monday  I began my Masters program for education. The first day was exciting, refreshing, and appeared quite bright. I left feeling like I was doing the right thing, and I had made the right decision. Wednesday marked my second day, and those feelings were partially diminished. I feel it is just the initial chaos that scares me, but hold quite a few worries, and it is only just the first week. First of all, I thought the program was extremely difficult to be accepted to, therefore I deduced that only highly qualified candidates would be accepted. This attracted me because that is the type of person I am. I am fast-paced, achievement/goal driven, and cherish effective time management. Yes I care about opinions and expressing emotions, but when it comes to communication, I prefer clear, concise, to-the-point interactions. This seems to differ immensely from what others, including the professors, uphold in the classroom. I am trying to view it as a test of my patience, and attempting to consider it to be something I can utilize as a teacher later, but right now, it is rather bothersome. I think what gets to me the most is that I am extremely interested in the material we are reading in our textbooks and supposed to be covering in class, yet we seem to never actually address anything within those required readings. If we do touch upon them, many people stray from the text or blabber on and on about their opinions, limiting how much others get to speak. The observer that I am sits in class and I can already tell you who "likes to hear themselves talk" and deems it necessary their opinion be heard on every matter. With the time constraints, I feel it would almost be most effective to have an online discussion board where people could freely express themselves, and then others could have the option to not only listen/read (if they want to) but then respond. Everyone in the program comes from such unique places, which is highly attractive and positive, but at the same time, I have noticed it leads to some people "preaching" their beliefs or pre-concieved notions. Having just come out of my undergraduate experience, I may be limited in "life experience" but I am years ahead when it comes to the "student experience" in comparison to my classmates. It frustrates me having to waste time going over how to used Blackboard or the online e-reserves, when that valuable classroom time could be used to instruct. I personally entered this program wanting to pursue something I thought would be good for society, and have truly dedicated myself to an open-mind. I have no experience in teaching (other then some mentoring), and after reading some of the textbooks, I realize that an open-mind and the commitment to constantly change and adapt are necessities to the teaching profession. With that being said, many of the people in my program seem to be stuck in a certain mindset. I don't know whether this can be attributed to their age, their past experience, etc., but it is yet another thing that truly gets to me in regards to this program. Why I seem to be taking it so personally is that it is directly effecting me and my learning experience. I entered the program because it was "accelerated" and fast-paced, covering a lot of material in a short amount of time, but doing so in a way that prepared teachers more than many other programs available. When I have these "downers" (yup, that's what I am going to refer to them as from now on), in my classes, I feel I am wasting valuable time and money. I know there is so much for me to learn and to grasp in order to become the best teacher possible, but the downers are getting in my way! As a perfectionist/achiever, I keep having to remind myself that there is no perfect teacher and I will never be able to reach that point, but I want to become a person that can put forth and provide the best education for each and everyone of my students. That aspiration/dream is very high, but I only set those types of goals for myself, so that should not be a shocker.

Within the activities of this first week and my interactions with other students, I have come to the realization that I need to really own my education. All throughout high school, middle school, elementary, and even college, I strived to achieve, but only based on grades. I would read, take notes, attend class, and create study guides all for the grades rather than the knowledge. I reflect upon this mindset, and although it is a broad generalization and doesn't fall true for every single class I took, I now see how much passion I actually have for education and becoming a teacher. Instead of doing the readings for the grades, I'm doing the readings because I'm enthralled by the information. I absorb it and want more and more. Of course I want to do well in my classes, but they don't seem to be focused upon the final grade either...its all about the process. This seems to fit directly into education itself. Maybe even as broad as life. There are no final end-products. People are constantly changing. Changing career paths, changing relationships, changing hair colors, but no matter what, this change is continuous. Educators need to embrace change in the exact same way. Their students change, their curriculum changes, their attitudes change, their environment changes. With all these changes, a teacher has no choice but to go along to, for remaining stagnant is not an option. One of my texts mentioned that if a teacher believes they have reached perfection and can no longer change, then they should quit because that means they have completely failed. This continues to resonate with me for I can apply it to so many aspects of my life...though never to the extremity of failure (that's a big no-no word in my recovery ;)).

And so I have begun my Masters program. I have entered the student world again. My schedule is going to be crazy for I have class three days a week and I student teach three days a week, meaning I am basically ending my social life during the weekdays and cutting into much of my weekends. Here's to knowing its worth it, hoping I succeed, and holding myself accountable to recovery all at the same time.

Wish me luck.

Sunday

Today represents the beginning of a new chapter in my life..so to speak. I start grad school tomorrow for Education. Though I am excited and feel I am doing the "right thing", I can not help but question my decision and feel rather anxious/nervous. I get overwhelmed at the thought of not doing everything perfectly/not having enough time to get it all done. Its weird because I constantly think "when will I have time to work out" which is almost kind of why I wanted to do the program to begin with...to keep me busy and not working out. Oh boy. The program is intensive, and I will be finished in a little over a year, but I hope I do not become to anxious or stressed that I return to my previous mental state of confusion/obsession, etc. In the end, I truly feel this is what I want to do, and I am hoping to overcome the thought that I have to be "perfect" in school, teaching, etc., especially when teaching seems to be an ever-evolving profession.

On another note, I believe it is necessary to update on my roommate/new living situation. I moved into a new apartment with a friend I have known since I was about 12 years old. We ski raced together all through middle/high school, and she ended up transferring to the same college as me and joining the same sorority. Though we didn't hang out much in college, she stayed in CO after she graduated (a year before me), and we decided to get an apartment together when I graduated this June. We moved in the last week of July, and for the most part, things are wonderful. I love the comfort and the cleanliness and all that, but I have some serious concerns regarding my roommate. When we were in high school, she struggled with a serious eating disorder (a combination of restriction, binging and purging, etc.). One of my friends and I approached her mother about it, and she supposedly was "getting help" for it. Ironically, both my friend and I are now in recovery for anorexia....oh how things work out. Anyway, I do not think anything was ever done for my roommate (who I will now refer to as K), and after moving in with her, I know there is an issue. First of all, I know she lacks self-confidence and esteem in every manner. She has the typical background of parents who question her eating/working out etc. (seems to be something that comes from our little Idaho town, this notion that you have to be super active and healthy). In college, she didn't have many friends, especially because she was a transfer student, but she never really put herself out there either. Once she graduated, I think things got even worse, for she really has maybe one or two friends, and that is only due to the fact that she works with them or something. I feel a pressure to make her more social/take her out, but at the same time, I need my separate friends/groups, and time alone. I see the loneliness and sadness in her eyes, and I wish there was something I could do.

The month prior to us moving in together, she was living alone in an apartment, and I think she went off the deep-end. With no one to watch her or socialize with, I think she may have turned to alcohol and an ED. My suspicions about the ED arise from her past, in addition to the fact that she never eats breakfast, I never see her at lunch so I do not know what that is like, and then she will hardly ever eat dinner when I am or when I am at the apartment. We both had work everyday of the week and I spend the weekends doing different activities, so we don't eat too many meals together. With that being said, yesterday we were decorating our apartment and she didn't eat anything until 1pm, made it while I was in my room, then made some excuse about having to shower again (which she had done that morning), because conditioner was still in her hair...I know this excuse. The feeling of having to purge immediately after eating something, but fearing that others will hear you throw-up. The go to move would be to "shower" or take a bath so you could drowned out the sound of forced purging. Hidden food, covering her mouth when she eats, not keeping food in the apartment and always eating out, etc. reinforce this idea in my head. Though I cannot say 100% she has an ED...I would say I'm 98% sure. Its funny how easy it is to recognize in another person after starting recovery. In fact, the house I lived in my senior year had a girl who I approached because I suspected she had an ED. I was right and tried to help her, yet I know she is still struggling...but that is a whole different story.

Back to K. So I have pretty much proven to myself that K has an ED, but the bigger concern for me is the alcohol. I have read/learned that alcohol dependency, etc. is co-morbid with EDs. Now, I think it is totally normal/acceptable to come home after work and have a glass or two of wine or a beer, whatever you fancy. But when I have been coming home (even at two in the afternoon), K will be sitting on the couch and immediately try and hide something from me under the table or run into her room to hide it. I instantly became suspicious, and realized it was white wine that she was hiding. At first, I thought maybe she was worried that I would judge her for drinking alone or something, but I come home and occasionally have a glass while I make dinner, so I thought that would show her I really do not care. This behavior has continued for the past two weeks, and the amount of wine she is going through is unreal. I went into her room and right now there are 5 empty bottles (two double bottles), and one that is have drunk in the fridge. She usually doesn't keep the wine in there but last night she was drinking with a friend. I do not know what to do. Clearly she has an issue and knows it or else she would not feel the need to hide it from me. After speaking with my mother today who knows K from home and knows everything I am going through, she recommended I bring it up with her (sooner rather than later) and come from a place of care/concern. I agree with my mother, but I feel that also warrants an explanation from me about what I am going through/recovery. I guess it was probably meant to happen at some point, but I do not know how ready I am to have to deal with it. I hate having to tell people/having people know, especially when I live with them, because I feel like I am constantly being watched around food and my behaviors. I never feel comfortable eating or going about my day because I feel as if I am constantly under their scrutiny. Part of me thinks this is the ED talking, but another part comes from a taste of reality.

So I guess my goal for this week is talk to K about my concerns. I need her to know how her behavior is affecting me as well. I care for her so much and the additional worry/anxiety isn't what I want or need in my recovery.

PS: I talked with G this week. It was more of a forced conversation due to a horrendous fight, but things are looking better right now...I did get some feedback from him that was a wee bit disheartening, but I know that he truly cares about me, which was nice to finally hear come out of his mouth.

I meet with my nutritionist on Thursday to get weighed...we shall see what my weight has done in the past two weeks. I have a feeling she is not going to be happy with me/I am not going to have gained weight. Again, the weight thing is my biggest hurdle (along with exercise), but food is becoming so much easier, and days off aka weekends are easier too. So I guess you have to take the good with the bad.

Weekend Trial

This week marks the first week that I will not be seeing my team, while I am in Denver, in order to see how I do  by "myself" with recovery. To be honest, I think I'm not doing to hot. This past weekend I spent in Glenwood Springs with my boyfriend. Man was it quite the trip. We left Friday night after we were both done with work, and began our drive (ended up getting in after 9pm that night). I was good about eating dinner before hand, but in the car ride up there, I mentioned multiple times to my boyfriend that we needed to stop and get ice cream at some point (part of my meal plan). Well, we did not. We drove straight to his house, where he then offered me and ice cream bar that was not up-to-par in the taste factor if you ask me. I have labeled myself a food snob, and I have come to terms with it. I appreciate quality, fresh, nutritious foods. If I'm going to put something in my mouth, I want to enjoy it. Part of this is the anorexia talking (I mean, why waste the calories if I don't even like it?? oh the mind of an ano), but the other part is the fact that I was raised that way. Coming from a small town, our local grocers would keep the store stocked with the freshest products, as well as ones that supported local businesses. My town has no fast-food restaurants...not a single one. The closest McDonald's is 25 minutes away.... My mom used to own a Mexican restaurant, and continued her passion for cooking after she shut the doors. Talking with others, I realized how fortunate I was with what I ate as a child. My mother would wake up and make us pancakes, waffles, eggs, oatmeal, cream of wheat, eggs, etc. every single day. I hardly recall a day where we would have dry cereal, unless of course my dad was left with us. The same held true for our dinners (a wide array of home-cooked meals), and we were pushed to be a part of the "clean-plate club"...aka we had to finish all that was put in front of us. I never had an issue with this, my brother, on the other hand, would sit at the kitchen table for hours until he finally finished his plate. Looking back, this truly could have contributed to my eating disorder and the bulimia. I still do have the feeling that I have to finish what is placed in front of me. Its odd for my anorexia came when I stopped eating. Before I overly controlled how little I put into my mouth, I made sure that I finished every last bite of food placed in front of me. Then I became anorexic, and realized I could control the food. I could control how much I ate, and I was shocked that I actually had that power, because before, food had all the power. Now in recovery, I have to overcome the restriction I so proudly obtained in my sickness. Though its hard to try and give up something you worked so hard for, I have begun to trust myself. I can eat foods that I like, and even though I am told to finish everything (because I am trying to gain weight), I realize I no longer need to binge, purge, or really control. I find my body tells me when its hungry, when its full, when it needs a snack, etc. Again, I am not at the "intuitive eating" stage of recovery, but it is a relief to know that I am beginning to recognize these internal signs. What a shocker...trusting your body, viewing food as essential and not the enemy, enjoying certain foods, realizing you don't like others...this is all such an enlightening experience.

Back to this weekend...again, it was quite the challenge. I had mentioned to my therapist last week that the last time I did this, I packed an entire cooler to make sure I had my "routine foods" with me...the ones that I was comfortable eating and knew how my body would respond to (aka maintaining not gaining weight). I told my T that it was hard to be around my boyfriend's family, especially his mother. Don't get me wrong, the woman has great intentions and loves my boyfriend dearly, but I honestly think she lacks intelligence/intuition. My boyfriend told me her and her entire family are "people pleasers". He says that they are indecisive because they constantly want to make others happy, and they talk in circles. His mother fits this perfectly. I am very private, self-sufficient, and enjoy doing things on my own. When I am in her home, I am in her territory (especially in the kitchen). My boyfriend's family far from uphold my food snobiness....so I was already in an "off/trying" environment because of the slim pickings. Add on to that the mother who constantly asks me if I want to eat this, what I want to eat, blah blah blah. Hey lady! I'm recovering from an eating disorder and have certain foods that still scare the shit out of me! Quit constantly talking about food, diets, what's good, what's bad, exercise, how I prepare foods, etc., because that is exactly what I do NOT need to focus on! Though I am unsure whether G (my boyfriend) has told his mother about my ED, I still assume, since almost everyone who sees me assumes, I have some sort of disordered eating or exercise like mad. One would think that talking about exercise, and those superficial "diets" out there, are not appropriate topics for someone recovering from an ED, especially when I clearly display an uncomfortable attitude whenever such thinks are mentioned and do not bring up the topics on my own. Here I am feeling guilty for writing/thinking this about G's mother, and thinking to myself that I must cut her some slack for her lack of knowledge, G not telling her, etc., but then I get frustrated. G knows how much I struggle, or at least I think he does, yet why has he not shared this with his parents? Am I not important to him? Is he doing this to protect me? Life would be easier if he would share this with his parents so I wouldn't be placed in such a trying/anxiety producing environment. Hanging out with your boyfriend's parents is stressful enough, I don't need to be tested with my ED on top of that! I believe the solution here is communication, which again, I desperately need to work on with G. For some reason, I seriously struggle with opening up to those who I probably should the most. I fear that if they truly got to see me/how I feel/ what I am going through, they would run away like a scared little girl. No no, more like the victims of the guy in Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Ha. I suppose my mind isn't THAT fucked up, but it sure has hell is NOT normal. My mind is always running, random and not so random thoughts popping in and out, to the point where sometimes I catch myself thinking about thinking. If G, or anyone for that matter, could see and hear the world through my perspective, what would happen? I guess the answer to this question could never even attempt to be answered if I do not at least try to let others in.... With my goal-oreinted mindset, I guess it might be good to set one, especially one that I need to do desperately but hold such a resistance to do....

Goal: Communicate with G. Talk about what helps and what hurts. Realize that there is no point in holding out on him to keep him around because it isn't worth dragging out. He deserves honesty, and you deserve to be honest and open as well. If he doesn't want to remain, realize that life has another plan, and losing him now is better than when you aren't as strong. Who knows? Maybe this newfound openness will lead to happiness... because the relationship, though good at times, does need work.

Motivation: better relationship, happier, freeing of guilt/anxiety revolving around something that should bring you joy, honesty, working on "yourself"

Deadline: You'll know when you can handle it, but don't put it to the wayside for too long. Man I wish there was someone out there to hold me accountable to this. Its up to me though, and I always have been told, "As soon as you set your mind towards something, you always get it done". Time to "set my mind".

Insightful

http://thoughtcatalog.com/2012/kate-upton-is-fat-why-im-tired-of-competing-with-other-women/

Read.

Morning Time

The mornings are my time. I wake up, take my vitamins/supplements, get dressed, put on my running shoes and go. I love it. I'm up before most others. Outside it is quiet, calm, cool, and I feel powerful. Nothing can get me, nothing can stop me, and my feet begin to glide quickly, silently across the pavement. Ah the relief of my morning run. How can something so calming and serene also be considered the thing that could possibly kill me? I say this because I must admit, I am addicted to exercise. With that addiction comes an extremely low resting heart rate, abnormal heart beats, and very low blood pressure. I am required to wear a heart monitor when I exercise in order to assure I won't drop dead of a heart attack at any given moment. Cool. Exercise, at least in my mind, was always something good for the body, mind and soul, but now it is almost the enemy. My recovery team wants me to stop working out completely, but the thought of that terrifies me. There is an interesting piece to this as well though. I am required to take at least two days off, which I generally choose to be Saturday and Sunday (always Saturday and usually Sundays, but sometimes I just can't help going on a quick run). Even when I do run on Sundays, I don't do it for the calorie burn or the miles, I do it for me. These runs are the best. Back to info on my "off days"...those days I have the least amount of stress/anxiety. I am able to sleep in, plan out my days, am less anxious/focused on food, and surround myself with friends and those I love. This past weekend, I moved into a new place, and couldn't work out for those two days. Weigh-in occurred on Tuesday, and I was 100% positive I would weigh more...to my surprise, I had lost. I'm starting to trust my body again. I wasn't the best with my food intake while moving-in (come on, its hard to constantly think about eating when you are thrift store, ikea, and target shopping as well as building furniture), but I still had lost weight even eating what I normally do (for the most part). I know this worry of gaining and eating regularly comes from my past of bulimia. I used to skip breakfast, and then binge and purge throughout the rest of the day. I was never happy with my body, and truthfully I was a little over-weight. When anorexia took over, I didn't even realize how quickly I was losing weight. I was still not eating breakfast, and now not lunch, and when I would eat dinner, I would purge it back up. This began while I was home for Christmas break from college, and my mother started to catch on. In my fear of her forcing me to get help or addressing the issue, I stopped eating all together. It is in no way my mother's fault, but I must admit, this fear was what pushed me even further into anorexia and restriction. I'd only eat if I knew I would be able to purge later-on without anybody being home. I was proud of this control I had. When I was bulimic, food controlled me, but as an anorexic, I controlled it. I look back at my mindset and thinking then, and am shocked I could even function. Shocked I was able to go to school, finish my college courses, and even obtain A's in my classes. How could someone who spent 95% of their day thinking about food, working out, food, calories, weight, etc. succeed in anything else in their life? Those times were dark. I began weighing myself multiple times a day, when even just a few weeks before I hadn't even owned a scale. It all happened so quickly. At one point I was bulimic but functioning, the next I was anorexic and crazy.

History Lesson One: The Blonde Sheep's Introduction to ED

And so it begins...


Recovery from an eating disorder. What does that even mean? What is the process? How long does it take? Is it an achievable thing or a hopeless wish? How did I get here in the first place? Will I ever be able to love myself? Can I overcome my desperate desire to do everything perfectly?

So many questions are tied into an eating disorder. Questions that really delve into a person's being. They uncover much of the unknown about a person's deepest feelings and emotions, but can lead to further questions that may be even tougher to answer. It's a process. A long, insightful, many a times painful, but enlightening process, that can seem like hell at one point, but a true gift at another. So let my story unfold...

New Years Eve 2011: The weakest point in my life, which just so happened to lead to the most life changing one. This date will always be remembered for many reasons. At this point, I am not comfortable sharing the full details as to why it will never be forgotten, but I promise to share it when I am ready. However, the part I am willing to share is actually the most important, for it brought me to where I am today: Recovery. NYE will never be forgotten, for it was the point in my story where I finally reached out to someone about needing help for my eating disorder. Interestingly enough, the one I chose was my big brother, and the reasons behind this stem from his own experience with some mental health issues, anxiety, etc. I was scared, lonely, and in desperate need of comforting words from someone I knew would talk to me, love me, be there for me despite the crazy words coming out of my mouth. When the words first left my lips, I felt an instant surge of regret. How could I admit to this? I was so embarrassed, so ashamed to be so weak and vulnerable. I was always the one in the family who claimed independence, strength, and determination. Why was I crashing? What led me to transform from the powerful, driven, intelligent student to the child who could only focus on exercising an X amount of hours, eating X amount of calories, and obsessing over everything to do with food?

Post divulging my deepest, darkest secret to my brother, I finally began the process of recovery. A senior in college, about to graduate, and of course my life is hit by this shitstorm disease....but I suppose if I were ED, I would have labeled this the perfect time to hit as well. Though 2012 was the year my eating disorder came to life among my family, friends, etc., I had been struggling since middle school, possibly as far back as grade school. As a child, I struggled with low self-esteem, body image issues, and a feeling that I was always "different" and didn't quite belong. After being teased about my weight and appearance at such a young age, combined with some unintentionally painful comments made by those closet to me, I began to throw up my food. It started of slowly, where I would only throw up if I felt I had ate too much that night, etc. But those initial steps led me to where I am today.

The purging only worsened throughout the years, yet didn't seem to be a real issue until high school. That's when the pressures to be popular, pretty, skinny, etc. hit and hit hard. As the baby of the family, I was following in my older sister (and brothers) footsteps. My competitive nature and desire to be the best caused me to go to extremities in everything. And I mean everything. I had to do better in school, I had to be better at soccer, I had to be faster at skiing, I HAD to prove that I was "worthy" through my successes. Worthy of love, acceptance, and general acknowledgement from my family, peers, etc. If I wasn't the best, then I was nothing (hello black and white thinking).

With a personality like mine, it's no shock that as soon as stumbled upon disordered eating and the different aspects revolving around it, I felt I had uncovered an opportunity of relief. Relief from everything I could not control in my life through binging, purging, and punishing my body by depriving it of something it needs to survive.

Looking back to those years, I am shocked to admit how long I have struggled with this disorder. Before I had even become a teenager, I hated myself in so many ways...and that was only the beginning.