Long time.

A very, very long time – and oh so much life has happened since then.

Where I am now: I have managed to gain some of the weight back due to a variety of factors. I have a much better support system. But I still struggle with ED thoughts, and to a less extent behaviors. Definitely still a high level of anxiety. I am doing meals on my own for the most part, and having a meal plan to follow (and accountability) has really helped me to eat more, but I still get so neurotic and scared at times and it’s such a hard battle to fight day after day. I did begin to slip back recently, and some friends caught on and urged me back to a dietitian – so at least there is some help there, but still it’s hard. I also have quite a hard time not exercising.

So progress, I guess, but still very much coping with fear foods and grocery shopping meltdowns and obsessing and temptation to restrict and to lose.




It’s a bit early for a ‘what I ate’ post, but I’ve just had an insane weekend for eating. Cinnamon rolls, and then today I made this peanut butter oatmeal smoothie (peanut butter, cocoa, oats, almond milk, and then i substituted some maple syrup for the honey, all blended with ice.) It was DIVINE, I tell you. I used to love Friendly’s peanut butter cup friend-z’s with chocolate soft serve in my dairy-eating days and this hearkened back a bit.

I’m getting ready to weight restore. Or to move towards it. I’ve been racking my brain for non-dairy ways to eat high calorie foods because the typical milkshake idea won’t work for me. I also want it to be healthy. This is relatively healthy, not too filling as an add on, and pretty darned tasty. Of course, my downstairs neighbors will hate me for the blender, but…

Other than that…life is ok. I’m beating myself up a lot, over everything. I’ve made a few legitimate mistakes that I think I deserve to be burned at the stake for. I’m nervous about going back to work this week, and I feel huge due to the food I ate this weekend (my nephew also baked a special dessert for the family, and so I had to have some of that, too, and God only knows how many calories that was. It’s been a bakery weekend). I keep having to breathe myseldf through it. Just keep breathing.

And Friday, if I am brave, bumping up my intake.


The PMS monster has raised its ugly head and now NOTHING tastes right and I just want to throw food across the room. Trying to work on eating something, but seriously in want-to-rip-off-heads mode and the idea of eating makes me want to freak. Crazy day. I know I need to make myself eat, but today it is just really hard. Will take effort.

Mother Issues, or Who I Want To Notice

First off, I want to thank Boulimique for the Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award. I have to get the following BS out of my head today, but a bit later today or tomorrow I’ll put up a post about it, too. I’m surprised and honored!
Now to my post.
One of my closest friends is a recovered anorexic. She’s been my biggest support in all of this, because she understands how hard it is, but she also speaks truth to me.
She told me a big step in her recovery was figuring out who precisely she wanted to notice her weight loss and struggle. At the time, I couldn’t think of who I wanted to notice. A big issue for me right now is my mom, but I doubted I want her to notice because her response would be to smother, or at least generally she makes me feel smothered. If I’m stressed and she actually tries to help, as opposed to just ignoring, she usually makes me feel worse.
But I have been doing a lot of thinking today about what is behind all this, and part of me now wonders about that. My mother and I have a rocky history. She was the stronger personality of my parents, the one always pushing me to do better. My dad was gone for work part of most weeks and on those nights it was just my mother and I, all the time. Intensity arose, all the time. I now know she was stressed and probably depressed, and that was part of what led her to criticism, but at the time I just felt like nothing would ever be good enough and I didn’t measure up. Yelling or angry words happened a lot, and it was all made worse by my tendency to withdraw when people got upset, which she interpreted as passive-aggressive. I do believe the high pressure of growing up is the source of some of the issues I struggle with.
I used to play soccer. I quit when I was younger, because it was no longer fun. I played on premier teams, and my mother put a decent amount of money and time into me playing. I got criticized for not playing well enough or hard enough. To my recollection, it was in the context of ‘we’re putting in all this effort and you aren’t”. I quit soccer in high school, ostensibly to focus on schoolwork. But I do remember in my head it was a bit of a ‘fuck you’ to my mother, because I knew she took great pride in me playing (my therapist says it was about her showing off how good her kid was) and I knew it would hurt her for me to quit.
So now I am beginning to wonder if all this, this slow march towards suicide, this slow march of self destruction, IS about wanting her to notice. Not so she’ll help. But so I can finally say to her ‘look at what you did to me. You hurt me, tormented me, and I am angry, and now I will kill myself and look at what your actions got you’. I have a lot of anger towards her, at times enough that I don’t want to see her ever again. Suicide would be the ultimate ‘fuck you’.
The hard thing is how she acts now like nothing happened. Like she is proud of me. Like she loves me. Like she has always acted this way. Which makes me more angry because that isn’t true, and now it feels like too little too late. It isn’t like she’s acknowledging how hard things were, apologizing, and trying to change. It’s like it never happened. She’ll deny any little details that I happen to toss out. But it DID happen, Mom, and I have been fucked up for years paying the price while you get off scot free and play the loving and proud mother. So look, now, see what you’ve done. And don’t ask for forgiveness, because it’s a long time coming. Don’t’ ask for mercy, for me to protect your feelings as I have for years. I won’t. Feel the full weight, bear the full weight. I think some of me wants her to see this so I have a reason to make her hurt, make her guilty, make her face it.
I’m beginning now to think I need to confront her. Not now. I’m not strong enough now, I need to be ready for her angry, lash out back defensiveness no matter how calmly I present my points. I need to be ready for nothing to come of it but her anger and my tears and guilt for making her sad. But someday. To say it in a way that isn’t a slow killing all of the things that matter not just to her, or not at all to her, but to me.
Mother issues. How cliche. But true.


I called in to work today.

I called in because I am so exhausted I can barely contemplate doing anything, let alone focus on work. I am laying in bed about to fall asleep, and it was all i could do to muster the energy to call in.

Granted, I haven’t gotten much sleep the past few days, but I am beginning to fear it’s the ED taking over, finally sapping me to the point where a busy weekend is enough to drag me to the point of exhaustion. It is, I think, beginning to affect my life profoundly.

You’d think I would start eating fast. But I just can’t. And that terrifies me.


Last night was a bit of a hissy fit.

I am frustrated. I didn’t want to know anything about my weight when I had to go home alone and deal with it all there.

I want to get better. I know that maintaining and then gaining is the way to do that, but I’m not ready to gain right yet and….the part of me that wants to lose is very loud and insistent at times. And so that part is feeling like a total failure to have not lost even a tiny bit of weight, since my goal has sort of been to lose slower. I’m scared that it hasn’t done what I want it to do. I feel out of control, and that feels scary, and I feel isolated in the out of control because I haven’t been able to talk over it all with someone.

The good news from yesterday is I had coffee with a friend in the morning. One slow step out of isolation. She’s a good friend, so I am contemplating whether to disclose all of this to her for some support. I’m unclear, because I don’t know how to explain how it’s all happened. But although the intensity of this all is new in the past 6-8 months, the more i think about it, I realize this has been lurking for a long time and isn’t the first time it’s been a problem for me. The habit of being sick at greasy foods, or cutting into small pieces and eating small bites slowly, or lying about having eaten, or restricting my intake, is more like second nature than a new thing. I didn’t just learn it, I’ve lived it. so i think I’ve had the behaviors before, just not so dramatically. I guess I could start with….the monster awoke? We’ll see. I’m trying to be less isolated.

The one positive of yesterday was figuring out a trigger – hate myself, starve myself.

Truth and consequences

I have an appointment with my nutritionist tonight.

I don’t know my weight. Part of me feels like I’ve gained – I always feel like I gained – but part of me is cognizant of the veins sticking up from my skin, and I think that must mean I lost.

I’ve only gone to the nutritionist twice. I’m going because my newish ED therapist wants me to, not because I have any desire to have one. For a little while I’ve had fairly free rein on life, but I have a feeling that if I HAVE lost weight, I’m going to be held accountable for it soon. So I’m a little nervous about how it’s going to go. Also, due to scheduling conflicts I’ve enjoyed a blissful few weeks without her around (I cannot stand her) and I hate the idea of being pushed to go more frequently. Or dealing with her more frequently. Or dealing with her at all. She has an attitude I just don’t feel comfortable with, and I don’t like being told what to eat, or being judged.

I know a little bit about ed tricks of the trade, and I thought about using one or two. I’m in outpatient treatment, not dangerously underweight, so they weigh me clothed. And I’d dismiss tricks offhand as merely postponing the inevitable, except the truth is I know I need to gain weight. But my closest form of support is going to be out of contact the first two weeks of August and I really can’t handle the idea of gaining weight without someone I trust to support me. So i just need to hang on without being pushed for 4 more weeks, and then I will try to make steps towards gaining. Hence the idea of tricking the scale. (And no, the idea of gaining doesn’t make me happy. And maybe it’s all just a convenient excuse to lose more weight, but my friend will so not let me slide when she comes home.).

It’s a tough one.

Dreading the appointment. We’ve also not really talked calories, or weight, or eating disorders at all. It’s the elephant in the room, keeping company with my hostility. I’m also concerned all of that will come out. I am just…concerned. I think my house of cards is about to come tumbling down and I do not like the idea.

The good news is yesterday I ate my goal amount. The goal I set, truth in advertising, not the one anyone else has set. But I ate it. Plus a hundred calories towards my weekend deficit. I felt enormous and week and like I lost, but I did it.

Just need to get through today. After the appointment, I have an appointment with my hairdresser as a reward. 🙂

This is all about food. I’m going to start to build in some stuff about life. only at the moment, my life is so curtailed that I don’t have a lot to enter. But I am going to try.