Not a Problem

"You are not a mistake. You are not a problem to be solved."

Yup that's from Women, Food, and God.  This is my new favorite affirmation, at least I'm making it my new favorite. Actually it's my only favorite, I tend to think affirmations are stupid and asinine.  I like this though. When I first read it I said, "Yeah well you don't know me."  I actually gave the statement no thought until I was about 40 pages deeper into the book when Mrs. Roth started talking about our inner voices, what she calls The Voice.  I know it as ED.  My inner voice has become so tangled up with my self image that I assume I am my ED. Some days, when I try really hard, I can pinpoint that voice and recognize it as the bastard that it's being but most of the time I plod along and suffer in silence while ED enjoys his tirades. And ED always works on the pretense of trying to "fix" something.  Like there is something wrong with me that needs to be fixed and he has me convinced that being at the "perfect" weight will fix it all...well even I can recognize that as the load of crap it is. But having listened to ED for so long, letting him have his say and going unchecked I've come to believe that there is something wrong with me down to my very core.

We're not made to work this way, I can look at my children and know that.  O was playing with one of her toys yesterday, trying to make two pieces of a puzzle cube fit together that weren't made to go together, and said to me, "It's broken, fix it."  I told her to keep trying and to try other pieces.  She kept working at it, stubbornly trying to shove the pieces together, finally had enough of it and said, "Mommy it's just broken right now, I'll go get a band-aid."  And she was off.  Never mind the fact that the two pieces just didn't belong together, not once did the child blame herself; the problem was in the toy, not in her.  I love that!  Had that been me I would have instantly blamed the problem on myself and my inabilities. I want to think more like my child.  

How much happier would I be if I stopped finding fault in every little thing that I do?  If I stopped focusing on all that I perceive to be wrong with me and instead appreciated all that is right in me?.  If I accepted everything, EVERYTHING, about myself just the way it is?  I think I'd be much, much happier. 

Okay so I don't like my weight.  I am overweight, but not grotesquely so. My weight shouldn't determine my self worth, but I let it.  Why?  Marc recently lost some weight.  Do I love him more now because he's thinner?  No.  Would I love him less if he gained 20lbs? No.  Either way, at any weight, I love Marc because he's Marc.  Now I just need to learn to love Jessi, for Jessi.

 

I am not a mistake.  I am not a problem to be solved. 

Why?

I've gotten a little further into Women, Food, and God and maybe Mrs. Roth isn't completely off her rocker.  I still don't think a peanut butter and jelly sandwich says anything about my belief in God, but I've come to the understanding that's not really her point.  She says we use food to numb ourselves, to hide from what we are really feeling, what we're afraid of. And she's right.  Whether I'm  stuffing myself silly during a binge and anticipating the release of purging or drastically restricting my calories it's because I'm hiding.  From myself.  It's no secret that I don't like myself...the question I can't answer is why don't I like myself?

Everyone who has ever really, truly, mattered in my life has loved me and accepted me for who I am.  No matter what my weight.  I can name people who I wanted to love me, care for me, or accept me that didn't.  That made me feel like crap, made me feel ugly, unwanted.  But in the grand scheme of things those people don't deserve my time and energy and should have no bearing on my self image.  So why do I still feel like the 15 year old girl that was the butt of a cruel joke?

Women, Food, and God

My mother in-law gave me the book Women, Food, and God by Geneen Roth the other day.  I'm about 40 pages in, I would be much further but I keep throwing the damn thing.  Not that the book isn't good, it is, I just don't like the points it makes.  


In the very beginning of the book Mrs. Roth says, "...our relationship to food is an exact microcosm of our relationship to life itself."  She goes on to state that our relationship with food can reveal how we feel about love, fear, transformation, our mothers (somehow they impact how we view God), and God himself.  My first reaction was to throw the book and declare that the woman was a nut and completely off her rocker. How in the hell does a bowl of Chocolate Cheerios (yum mama, home run there!) and the way I eat it say anything about my belief in God, or the relationship with my mother? I don't really think it does.  My mom rocks, she's always been supportive, has never told me I was anything less than beautiful, and would be the first in line to kick ass on my behalf should the need arise.  And I believe in a compassionate, loving, all accepting God who loves me just the way He created me (whether I like it or not is another issue all together).  So I don't agree with Mrs. Roth there.


But I'm going to keep reading.  Anything that I have the urge to throw (when it comes to food issues that is) usually ends up to have some beneficial qualities to it.  

Goal Weight

I've been trying to figure out a goal weight for myself.  I have a number that I think I would look great at, its a nice number, a number I wouldn't mind hearing said aloud at a doctors office, one I wouldn't mind seeing on my bathroom scale.  A number that my husband thinks is entirely ridiculous. In fact my entire family thinks a healthy weight for me is 15 to 20 pounds higher than the weight I picked.  Hmph.

Is my dysmorphia really that bad?  Probably.  I'm really scared that I'll get down to the goal weight we set (I deferred to my family...) and I'll still see a big fat cow in the mirror.  One of the therapists in treatment warned me that no matter what I weigh I will always perceive myself in an improper manner.  I'm hoping not.  I'm really hoping the fun house mirror effect starts to dissipate as I get closer to my goal weight, in a healthy manner.

It's a start

I've had a few, okay a lot, of mini-breakdowns over the last couple of days.  I've had to have my hubby make my food for me sometimes, I've had to sit in the bathroom with him while he took a shower because if left to my own devices I don't want to know what I would have done, I've picked fights with him because I don't like the way I look in the mirror, and sometimes I've just been a flat out b*tch cause its easier to be mean that to admit that I hate myself.

My little sister, genius that she is (and no I'm not being sarcastic she really is a genius...well maybe she's just logical but I'm calling her a genius), said that every time I have a negative thought about myself that I should write down positive things about myself to counteract the bad thoughts.

Here were her rules:
1. For every one bad thought write down three positive things.
2. Include something physical (mainly because  most of what I criticize about myself is physical)
3. Had to be about myself...not my children/husband/family etc.
4. I don't have to believe it, I just have to write it.

I've had a lot of negative thoughts today (surprise, surprise) and writing down three positive thoughts for every one negative thought is kind of a challenge, so I just tried to come up with a positive, any positive, thought about myself.  Here's my list, its not a long one.

• I'm not bald
• I have cute toes
• I have a good sense of humor
• I'm pretty damn smart, academically speaking
• I haven't dyed my whites pink in a very long time
• I make cute kids

It's not much but its a start. And okay the last one is about my kids, and yes Marc had something to do with it, but I carried them for 9 months damn it so I'm taking the credit!

Mini Rant

I was trolling through the eating disordered blog world and came across this comment:

"Eating disorders are just like any other addiction.  Suck it up and get over it already...alcoholics and junkies do it everyday."  ~ Anonymous

Yeah, you're right an eating disorder is really similar to an addiction, some will even argue that it IS an addiction...I'm personally still out on this verdict...but you forgot one key element in your thought process douche bag: alcoholics and junkies don't have to drink or shoot up they can avoid their addiction. People with eating disorders still have to eat, multiple times a day...it's not so easy for us to "suck it up and get over it already".

Douche bag.

Five French Fries

I freaked last night.  Over french fries.  I ate some french fries and I panicked...couldn't breathe, started crying, had to actively try not to puke, called my husband then my mom, freaked!  Do you know how many french fries I ate?

5.

That's right.  5.  FIVE.  I counted.  And they were baked, not fried.  Five french fries were enough to send me into an all out panic.  I'm seriously disturbed...

How do normal people deal with food?  The shit scares the crap out of me.  Mainly because I like to eat, a lot.  I grew up in an Italian family, the food's just good...maybe if we were English and ate fish and chips all the time I wouldn't have a problem.  But no, we like our carbs.

I don't know what it is but the more I like a food the scarier it is for me.  Chocolate, steak, and pasta (of any kind) all make my mouth water and my knees tremble.  ED has convinced me that if it tastes good its bad for me and will ultimately turn me into a whale.  So in order to not panic when it comes to eating I'd have to live off tofu, brussel sprouts, beets, and liver....