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.
Showing posts with label bulimia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bulimia. Show all posts
ED Gets a Wife
My first day in treatment for my eating disorder my therapist told me to give my eating disorder its own voice, to distinguish my thoughts from its thoughts. Like most recovering from an eating disorder I call mine ED. But since I've been in recovery ED has developed a counter personality, Mrs. Bitch.
While ED likes to harass me about my weight, calories, exercise, and my lack of perfection in almost every area of my life, Mrs. Bitch likes to harass me about my imperfections associated with recovery. If I skip a meal or snack she takes note. If I don't eat the minimum number of calories I'm supposed to in a day she points it out.
Seriously, WTF!
It was bad enough having one monster terrorize me. Now I have two. A journey into my brain if you please...
ED: You're eating again.
Me: It's a granola bar.
Mrs. Bitch: You didn't have enough protein with lunch, you should eat some peanut butter too.
I don't want peanut butter.
Thank God, it'd go straight to your thighs.
You need the protein. You're not eating properly.
I'm eating.
Fat ass.
Eat a boiled egg instead of a granola bar.
I want the granola bar and we're out of eggs.
Eggs are fat.
Eggs are not fat.
Everything has fat.
No everything has calories, not fat.
Celery doesn't have calories.
Okay so live off celery.
You can't live off celery. You need protein, carbohydrates, and good fats.
You need a bigger pair of pants.
If I wasn't certifiable before I sure am now...
While ED likes to harass me about my weight, calories, exercise, and my lack of perfection in almost every area of my life, Mrs. Bitch likes to harass me about my imperfections associated with recovery. If I skip a meal or snack she takes note. If I don't eat the minimum number of calories I'm supposed to in a day she points it out.
Seriously, WTF!
It was bad enough having one monster terrorize me. Now I have two. A journey into my brain if you please...
ED: You're eating again.
Me: It's a granola bar.
Mrs. Bitch: You didn't have enough protein with lunch, you should eat some peanut butter too.
I don't want peanut butter.
Thank God, it'd go straight to your thighs.
You need the protein. You're not eating properly.
I'm eating.
Fat ass.
Eat a boiled egg instead of a granola bar.
I want the granola bar and we're out of eggs.
Eggs are fat.
Eggs are not fat.
Everything has fat.
No everything has calories, not fat.
Celery doesn't have calories.
Okay so live off celery.
You can't live off celery. You need protein, carbohydrates, and good fats.
You need a bigger pair of pants.
If I wasn't certifiable before I sure am now...
My Morning Convo with ED
Today, like every morning since Little Bit's birth, I woke up and made a mad dash for the bathroom. If I'm lucky I have enough time to relieve myself before she realizes I'm no longer laying near her bassinet, if I'm really lucky I can sneak a 2 minute shower before she starts wailing and wakes up Daddy (he works nights). This morning wasn't one of the lucky mornings...I had just enough time to use the restroom and scoot. And apparently ED had enough time to catch a quick glimpse in the mirror and formulate an early attack, usually he waits until I've had my first cup of coffee...apparently he's an eager beaver today.
ED: You look like shit.
Me: I just woke up...
Not my point, your thighs...if you insist on being so fat you could at least sleep in sweat pants.
Its to hot at night to sleep in sweat pants.
Well then lose some weight, A LOT of weight.
I just had a baby.
No excuse, plenty of women have babies and manage not to look like Jell-O afterwards.
Shut up.
You were fat before the pregnancy, now you're a whale.
I was not fat...
You weren't thin.
I was losing weight.
A pound every week does not count. You know how to lose weight, real weight.
I can't do that...its not right.
Those three tires around your gut aren't right.
I'm breastfeeding.
There's formula.
Are you paying for it?
So don't throw up. Eat a little less...and EXERCISE.
I do exercise.
Real exercise...pushing a stroller around the block doesn't count.
I can't yet. Second c-section, remember? I really prefer not to rip the incision open.
You gotta do something.
I am, I'm eating healthy.
Key word: eating.
I have to eat.
Not so much, skip breakfast.
Can't Marc will get mad.
Don't tell him.
He'll ask. He always asks. And he can tell when I lie.
I'm sure he'd rather you skip one teeny tiny meal than be married to a mammoth. Look in the mirror, would you want to sleep with you?
Shut up.
Just saying, no man likes flab.
I JUST HAD A BABY!
Keep telling yourself that...
I didn't skip breakfast...feel like hell though. Needless to say today's going to be a battle.
ED: You look like shit.
Me: I just woke up...
Not my point, your thighs...if you insist on being so fat you could at least sleep in sweat pants.
Its to hot at night to sleep in sweat pants.
Well then lose some weight, A LOT of weight.
I just had a baby.
No excuse, plenty of women have babies and manage not to look like Jell-O afterwards.
Shut up.
You were fat before the pregnancy, now you're a whale.
I was not fat...
You weren't thin.
I was losing weight.
A pound every week does not count. You know how to lose weight, real weight.
I can't do that...its not right.
Those three tires around your gut aren't right.
I'm breastfeeding.
There's formula.
Are you paying for it?
So don't throw up. Eat a little less...and EXERCISE.
I do exercise.
Real exercise...pushing a stroller around the block doesn't count.
I can't yet. Second c-section, remember? I really prefer not to rip the incision open.
You gotta do something.
I am, I'm eating healthy.
Key word: eating.
I have to eat.
Not so much, skip breakfast.
Can't Marc will get mad.
Don't tell him.
He'll ask. He always asks. And he can tell when I lie.
I'm sure he'd rather you skip one teeny tiny meal than be married to a mammoth. Look in the mirror, would you want to sleep with you?
Shut up.
Just saying, no man likes flab.
I JUST HAD A BABY!
Keep telling yourself that...
I didn't skip breakfast...feel like hell though. Needless to say today's going to be a battle.
You're Kidding Right?
I should stop reading! Or at least stick to fiction, this informative reading crap is going to wreck my fragile hold on sanity...
Out of morbid curiosity I decided to see how many calories a nursing mother needs in a day, after all I have to make sure Little Bit is getting what she needs right? So I need to know the number of calories I should be consuming in a day. Logical. Yup, logical.
In general, you should simply listen to your body and eat to appetite - this is usually all you need to do to get the calories you need. When exclusively nursing a young baby, it is very common to feel hungry much of the time... listen to your body. Mothers of older babies may feel hungrier when baby temporarily increases his or her milk intake (for example, during a growth spurt)... again, listen to your body. Counting calories is rarely necessary unless you are having problems maintaining a healthy weight. (www.kellymom.com)
I should have stopped reading right there. Eat when hungry, eat healthy, and Little Bit will get what she needs. Simple enough. But did I stop reading? Of course not! I went in search of a number damn it and I want that number.
1800 to 2200.
1800 to 2200
Oh. My. God.
I had to go looking for a stupid number.
1800 calories in a day. I...I....I'm at a loss for words. Seriously, that many?? Sure breastfeeding burns extra calories and yes breastfeeding promotes healthy weight loss in lactating mothers but still 1800 calories!?! Each day? That number seems insurmountably high.
I can do this...it's for Little Bit. It's for Little Bit, it's for Little Bit, it's for Little Bit....
Reasons for Recovery
Right there. They are my reasons for recovery.
Every therapist I've had (I need a new one...if you know of a good one in or around Deltona, FL let me know!) but for one, and oh how I miss her, has told me that I'll never recover if I don't do it for myself and myself alone.
Well screw you.
I know they have their reasons and years of medical training to back their little philosophy but I think its crap to tell someone in recovery that they can't recover if their motives aren't driven by self-preservation. Truth is I don't really like myself enough to leave ED. Sure I like the fact that my hair no longer falls out, my throat isn't constantly on fire, and I have enough energy to get out of bed to make my coffee but those are all benefits of being in recovery...they aren't the reason I fight the urge to purge everyday.
My family is. One of my biggest fears is that my two little princesses, O (2) and Little Bit (2 weeks), will develop an eating disorder of their own. And that it will be my fault, they will have learned the behavior from me. I won't let that happen.
So for now, I eat for them.... Hopefully one day in the future I'll be able to say I'm doing this for Jessi and Jessi alone but for now they are my motivation. And there's nothing wrong with that.
Biting Back
"Eating disorders are not always textbook things. They don't have a particular face." ~ Heather Fisher
Oh how true. For so long it was easy to convince myself that there was nothing wrong with me because I simply didn't look like I had an eating disorder, still don't for that matter. Most days I still struggle to believe that I actually have a problem even though I know I do.
I started down the road with ED when I was 15, that was the first time I threw up anyways. Dissatisfaction with my body started much younger than that. I developed much faster than the other girls my age, I remember shopping for bras with "supportive straps" when I was 13 while my girlfriends and cousins were buying frilly little training bras. My mom said I had curves, I said I was cursed.
I remember constantly comparing myself to the other girls around me. I remember hearing this little voice in my head every once in a while, "You're fat you know. None of your friends wear a size 5." Soon that little voice became a giant nagging bitch that assaulted me on a daily basis. "You aren't pretty enough. Your stomach is too big. Can you see over those boobs, you know those are just big pockets of fat right?" Throwing up made the voice shut up...for a little while at least.
10 years later I still hear that voice. I've been in recovery for 2 years and haven't actively binged/purged for over a year but the struggle is still there. I hope to one day be able to wake up and not be nagged by my ED. He bit me first, now I'm biting back.
Oh how true. For so long it was easy to convince myself that there was nothing wrong with me because I simply didn't look like I had an eating disorder, still don't for that matter. Most days I still struggle to believe that I actually have a problem even though I know I do.
I started down the road with ED when I was 15, that was the first time I threw up anyways. Dissatisfaction with my body started much younger than that. I developed much faster than the other girls my age, I remember shopping for bras with "supportive straps" when I was 13 while my girlfriends and cousins were buying frilly little training bras. My mom said I had curves, I said I was cursed.
I remember constantly comparing myself to the other girls around me. I remember hearing this little voice in my head every once in a while, "You're fat you know. None of your friends wear a size 5." Soon that little voice became a giant nagging bitch that assaulted me on a daily basis. "You aren't pretty enough. Your stomach is too big. Can you see over those boobs, you know those are just big pockets of fat right?" Throwing up made the voice shut up...for a little while at least.
10 years later I still hear that voice. I've been in recovery for 2 years and haven't actively binged/purged for over a year but the struggle is still there. I hope to one day be able to wake up and not be nagged by my ED. He bit me first, now I'm biting back.
