Showing posts with label ED. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ED. Show all posts

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. 

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....

GRRR

I want to exercise.  Really, really exercise.  Walking at night with the girls, while enjoyable, is NOT enough for me.  I want to sweat.  I want to burn calories...lots and lots and lots of calories.  But I can't.  Not for 20 more days...it should only be another 14 days but my damn doctor couldn't get me in for my 6 week check up until June 16th (which is a day shy of 7 weeks thankyouverymuch).  And until he clears me I'm not allowed to do anything more strenuous than walking.  And I'm pissed...

I don't particularly like to exercise, okay actually I hate it - well aside from yoga...yoga rocks.  But I NEED to do it, not doing it makes me feel fatter and lazier.  I feel fat enough right now.  And yes I know I just had a baby, and if one more person points that fact out to me I think I might scream...no offense mom (I love you!).


About Me

Wife. Mother. Daughter. Sister. Wanna-be writer. Bulimic in recovery. That's me in a nutshell!

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