there is a difference.
between an eating disorder and disordered eating.
i talked with my mama about it a little while back.
i never thought about the difference, for even a second.
i have just always (and by always, i mean for the last 2-3 years) said "i have an eating disorder"
and when i am not in the midst of a flare up, when i have a pretty alright body image and eat kind of regularly, i just call myself "almost anorexic"
i have always considered my eating habits and mental status one of the two.
either or.
but mama put it in a way that just made sense.
to her, and i agree, disordered eating is an evolution of an eating disorder.
you're no longer suffering, physically or mentally (wholly or partially), from said eating disorder. (although mentally, i feel i will always be split. there will always be my anorexic mind and my sound mind. it just comes down to which one i listen to at any given moment)
disordered eating.
it's no longer a control thing, as it is with an eating disorder.
it's a habit thing. it's a my body doesn't recognize the hunger signs as hunger the majority of the time anymore thing. it's a i get so busy that eating doesn't cross my mind kind of thing.
that difference being brought to light lifted a heavy weight off my shoulders.
i have a way to explain it. a way where i am not going to be examined up and down and then told i am not skin and bone enough for it. a way to explain it in a way that doesn't make me feel like not eating for months on end just to prove that i do indeed suffer.
i no longer have to prove anything to anyone.
i have evolved.
to me, this is progression.
i am constantly scared of relapsing. i am equally scared of gaining weight and being over 120.
i can't stand the numbers.
i used to weigh myself obsessively, multiple times a day, every single day. i obsessed over my weight, and the second i was higher than i thought i should be, i would fast. or cleanse. or do anything to lose the weight.
it combined with my eating disorder was wreaking havoc on my body, soul, and psyche.
the path to recovery is long and never ending.
maybe that sounds sad, but it isn't.
it's a choice.
i have a choice, every second of every day.
a choice to be healthy or not. a choice to eat or not.
a choice.
that's what it comes down to.
sometimes, it doesn't feel that simple. sometimes, i choose wrong.
but most days, i am choosing right.
and that is positive. that is good.
that, is healing.
i am free. free of a toxic mindset and an even more toxic eating habit.
freedom is something i have longed for, but never had the courage to grasp. never had the strength to stand on my own and confront the emotions causing the problem.
but now, i am courageous. and i am strong. and i am free. and i am healing.
and i am gaining understanding and insight into myself that i never knew existed before.
xo
air
4.23.2014
4.05.2014
it's largely mental.
and habitual.
i am ocd, in some things to a fault.
i struggle mentally more than anything with this disorder now.
it wasn't always that way, at one point, i got down to almost 100 pounds. which at 5'6" is really kind of bad. i was disgusted by food, completely. just the thought of it was enough to send me into a panic and make me sick.
in the beginning, and even now, i would eat socially. i eat around people, so they don't know how bad it really is. for a while, no one but my person knew, so i ate socially to hide it.
it isn't that bad anymore. it took a lot of CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy) on my part to fix the food disgusting me. by that point, my person had gotten so bad with the same disorder mixed with another that she was institutionalized. and that was when i realized just what this could do to you, and that's when i decided it would no longer own me or kill me.
only then, i didn't realize just how diligent and conscientious i would have to be. i didn't realize how big of a battle it would be, with myself.
and now i struggle to know just how much of it i am supposed to do on my own, and how much i can lean on others for help.
it's a fine line.
because for me, for who i am, i need to do it largely on my own. to stick with it, to make sure i don't relapse again, to learn the lesson, i need the experience.
as i was saying, it's largely mental.
more than anything i struggle in my mind. i have pretty serious body image issues.
just a month ago i was able to put my hands around my thighs and have both my thumb and forefinger overlap.
and now, i can't even touch both together, which freaks me out.
i know i am skinny. i know i am not fat.
i am a size 3-5, i weigh 120 lbs. i have roughly 16-18% body fat.
i am skinny. there is next to no fat on my body.
and yet the irrational part of my mind, my disease, tells me otherwise. and i can honestly say that 95% of the time, the irrational part wins out.
it's a constant battle. mostly, it's exhausting.
i never thought of my every day dealings impacting this battle. but they do, at a surprising amount.
mostly, it's my relationships with people and how they effect me emotionally. it's how much i give emotionally and physically to those relationships. it depends on how drained i am, and whether or not i am taking the time to rejuvenate myself in every facet.
it's largely on me, this healing thing.
it requires a vast amount of discipline and self confrontation. it requires me looking inward and not running or hiding from what i find.
and not running is harder than you would imagine.
xo
air
and habitual.
i am ocd, in some things to a fault.
i struggle mentally more than anything with this disorder now.
it wasn't always that way, at one point, i got down to almost 100 pounds. which at 5'6" is really kind of bad. i was disgusted by food, completely. just the thought of it was enough to send me into a panic and make me sick.
in the beginning, and even now, i would eat socially. i eat around people, so they don't know how bad it really is. for a while, no one but my person knew, so i ate socially to hide it.
it isn't that bad anymore. it took a lot of CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy) on my part to fix the food disgusting me. by that point, my person had gotten so bad with the same disorder mixed with another that she was institutionalized. and that was when i realized just what this could do to you, and that's when i decided it would no longer own me or kill me.
only then, i didn't realize just how diligent and conscientious i would have to be. i didn't realize how big of a battle it would be, with myself.
and now i struggle to know just how much of it i am supposed to do on my own, and how much i can lean on others for help.
it's a fine line.
because for me, for who i am, i need to do it largely on my own. to stick with it, to make sure i don't relapse again, to learn the lesson, i need the experience.
as i was saying, it's largely mental.
more than anything i struggle in my mind. i have pretty serious body image issues.
just a month ago i was able to put my hands around my thighs and have both my thumb and forefinger overlap.
and now, i can't even touch both together, which freaks me out.
i know i am skinny. i know i am not fat.
i am a size 3-5, i weigh 120 lbs. i have roughly 16-18% body fat.
i am skinny. there is next to no fat on my body.
and yet the irrational part of my mind, my disease, tells me otherwise. and i can honestly say that 95% of the time, the irrational part wins out.
it's a constant battle. mostly, it's exhausting.
i never thought of my every day dealings impacting this battle. but they do, at a surprising amount.
mostly, it's my relationships with people and how they effect me emotionally. it's how much i give emotionally and physically to those relationships. it depends on how drained i am, and whether or not i am taking the time to rejuvenate myself in every facet.
it's largely on me, this healing thing.
it requires a vast amount of discipline and self confrontation. it requires me looking inward and not running or hiding from what i find.
and not running is harder than you would imagine.
xo
air
3.01.2014
135
i remember the first time my thighs touched when i walked.
i was 19. it was when i lived in hawaii after i had graduated high school.
and i remember being equally disgusted and horrified.
i remember thinking back to every single thing i had eaten in the last months to figure out how i had gotten to this point. up to then, i was barely over 100 pounds and i was 5'6". and somehow, i reached 135.
1. 3. 5.
and i just about died. inside, i did.
it wasn't a mystery. i had had a break down of sorts. i went on a 'i am going to eat two batches of cookie dough a week and nothing but pizza for dinner' binge for a good two months there. in that time period i went from my size 0/1 to a size 5.
a size 5.
i was flabbergasted.
that was close to or the same as my mothers size.
that statement seems oddly placed, or possibly insignificant. but it isn't.
i grew up in a house where my mother was never thin enough, never beautiful enough. where she had to put on her face before she left the house, always, even to take us to school in the morning. in a house where she would workout for a short time and then get discouraged and stop. in a house where in my eyes, my father didn't think her thin or attractive either, because if she were, why would she be this way. (i realize now that this wasn't exactly the case. but that's how my naive young mind perceived it then, and it affected me greatly)
i learned from every environment i was in that i wasn't thin enough, or pretty enough. that my boobs were too small, my eyes too squinty, my hair too flat. in high school, i wasn't considered that pretty (granted at that point i had really either stopped trying and gone hippie or i went punk-emo wannabe. those are my extremes.)
i am rambling now.
even now, i am terrified.
i look at myself in the mirror after i shower or bathe.
i see every flaw, every pudge. i see my upper thighs curving out on both sides. i see my calves touching when i stand with my feet together and it makes me cringe. i see a little muscle/fat on my waistline and on my lower stomach and i suck in and pull my skin tight. i see my boobs and how almost non existent they are and wish they were at least enough to fill an A cup, hell even a double A would be nice. i see my upper arms, which are almost as wide as my torso, and can't help but feel deflated.
that is me now. i fluctuate between 110-115.
just a month and a half ago, my things and calves didn't touch when i stood with my feet together. and still, i was disappointed. i had nothing but skin and bone on my hips and waistline and the pudge on my lower stomach was not there. my boobs were even smaller, as if that were possible.
and still, i was disgusted by my body. only this time, i was torn. i was too fat and far too thin. all at the same time.
and it made no sense to me. i knew i was too thin. rationally, i was well aware of it.
but anorexia isn't rational. and no amount of rational thought will make it go away, believe me you, i have tried.
i wish to be thinner. i wish for my body to not jiggle in any place when i walk. i wish to have a body fat percentage below 10. i wish to be nothing but muscle and not bigger than a size one, but with happy full B cup boobs. i wish for my eyes to be bigger, my hair blonder and more voluminous. i wish for tinier hands, fingers, and feet.
i wish for perfection. i wish for societies view of perfection, not for raw authentic genuine perfection in my imperfections.
and i wish i didn't feel that way. and i don't know how to change it or fix it.
the only option, that i can think of, is to find the root. and to start from there. to find out exactly when and why i started thinking this way. to understand it fully, and to slowly, piece by piece, let it go.
it's just a matter of finding that beginning. and it has turned out to be harder than it seems. turns out that blocking memories from yourself is difficult to get back since they were obviously blocked for a reason.
i was 19. it was when i lived in hawaii after i had graduated high school.
and i remember being equally disgusted and horrified.
i remember thinking back to every single thing i had eaten in the last months to figure out how i had gotten to this point. up to then, i was barely over 100 pounds and i was 5'6". and somehow, i reached 135.
1. 3. 5.
and i just about died. inside, i did.
it wasn't a mystery. i had had a break down of sorts. i went on a 'i am going to eat two batches of cookie dough a week and nothing but pizza for dinner' binge for a good two months there. in that time period i went from my size 0/1 to a size 5.
a size 5.
i was flabbergasted.
that was close to or the same as my mothers size.
that statement seems oddly placed, or possibly insignificant. but it isn't.
i grew up in a house where my mother was never thin enough, never beautiful enough. where she had to put on her face before she left the house, always, even to take us to school in the morning. in a house where she would workout for a short time and then get discouraged and stop. in a house where in my eyes, my father didn't think her thin or attractive either, because if she were, why would she be this way. (i realize now that this wasn't exactly the case. but that's how my naive young mind perceived it then, and it affected me greatly)
i learned from every environment i was in that i wasn't thin enough, or pretty enough. that my boobs were too small, my eyes too squinty, my hair too flat. in high school, i wasn't considered that pretty (granted at that point i had really either stopped trying and gone hippie or i went punk-emo wannabe. those are my extremes.)
i am rambling now.
even now, i am terrified.
i look at myself in the mirror after i shower or bathe.
i see every flaw, every pudge. i see my upper thighs curving out on both sides. i see my calves touching when i stand with my feet together and it makes me cringe. i see a little muscle/fat on my waistline and on my lower stomach and i suck in and pull my skin tight. i see my boobs and how almost non existent they are and wish they were at least enough to fill an A cup, hell even a double A would be nice. i see my upper arms, which are almost as wide as my torso, and can't help but feel deflated.
that is me now. i fluctuate between 110-115.
just a month and a half ago, my things and calves didn't touch when i stood with my feet together. and still, i was disappointed. i had nothing but skin and bone on my hips and waistline and the pudge on my lower stomach was not there. my boobs were even smaller, as if that were possible.
and still, i was disgusted by my body. only this time, i was torn. i was too fat and far too thin. all at the same time.
and it made no sense to me. i knew i was too thin. rationally, i was well aware of it.
but anorexia isn't rational. and no amount of rational thought will make it go away, believe me you, i have tried.
i wish to be thinner. i wish for my body to not jiggle in any place when i walk. i wish to have a body fat percentage below 10. i wish to be nothing but muscle and not bigger than a size one, but with happy full B cup boobs. i wish for my eyes to be bigger, my hair blonder and more voluminous. i wish for tinier hands, fingers, and feet.
i wish for perfection. i wish for societies view of perfection, not for raw authentic genuine perfection in my imperfections.
and i wish i didn't feel that way. and i don't know how to change it or fix it.
the only option, that i can think of, is to find the root. and to start from there. to find out exactly when and why i started thinking this way. to understand it fully, and to slowly, piece by piece, let it go.
it's just a matter of finding that beginning. and it has turned out to be harder than it seems. turns out that blocking memories from yourself is difficult to get back since they were obviously blocked for a reason.
2.28.2014
anorexia
it's an ego thing.
i never thought of myself as an egotistical person, generally i am humble to a fault.
maybe humble isn't the right word, because being humble requires knowledge of one's beauty in the first place. whereas mine is more a low self confidence and honest belief that most days, i am not pretty.
it's about control more than anything. i am a control freak. a huuuuuge control freak. i hate when things don't go according to plan, to the point where i will make a plan to get back to the original plan if divergence occurs. (i know. i know.)
it was really bad when i was younger. it started around 15.
i lived in hawaii for about a year after i graduated from high school in 2010. moving there changed a lot about me in that short time. my eating disorder, for the most part, was nonexistent. i didn't worry about the way i looked. and the culture is so lax and go with the flow that my control issues just melted away.
but, old habits die hard.
admittedly, it isn't as bad now as it used to be. for a while my anorexia was really bad. to the point where food was truly disgusting to me, just the thought of it was enough to send me into dry heaving.
i could say that my control freakism is because of my ocd. but if that were the case, i don't believe that i would feel such a sense of immense accomplishment when i was able to control things. so, i believe it's an ego thing. it's a "i will control this. you are not hungry." and then, i am not. and when you ignore it enough, you condition your body to simply not recognize the signs of hunger as hunger. it feeds my ego.
i am trying to explain all this to you. when in the honest truth, i don't even fully understand it myself.
i get moments, glimpses of understanding. but there is always something deeper.
but as i learn more, as my understanding deepens, i will keep you updated. rather extensively, in full disclosure. if you have questions you are more than welcome to comment or email me! < 3
and i am finally getting to the point where i am ready to explore it emotionally.
it has taken years to get to this point. and two full fledge breakdowns in every facet-mentally, emotionally, physically. all of it.
my life consistently flows between anorexic and almost anorexic.
i know now that it is because i have never truly dealt with it.
next week, the 6th of march, i have a rolfing appointment and an eft (emotional freedom technique) appointment set. and i couldn't be more excited and equally terrified.
i am forcing myself to face the emotions head on so i can once and for all fix this.
it's going to be hard and scary. but i have air (ariel, my best friend) to support me and many others in my life that support the holistic way of life and healing.
this is my journey, and it's finally starting.
welcome.
xo
air
i never thought of myself as an egotistical person, generally i am humble to a fault.
maybe humble isn't the right word, because being humble requires knowledge of one's beauty in the first place. whereas mine is more a low self confidence and honest belief that most days, i am not pretty.
it's about control more than anything. i am a control freak. a huuuuuge control freak. i hate when things don't go according to plan, to the point where i will make a plan to get back to the original plan if divergence occurs. (i know. i know.)
it was really bad when i was younger. it started around 15.
i lived in hawaii for about a year after i graduated from high school in 2010. moving there changed a lot about me in that short time. my eating disorder, for the most part, was nonexistent. i didn't worry about the way i looked. and the culture is so lax and go with the flow that my control issues just melted away.
but, old habits die hard.
admittedly, it isn't as bad now as it used to be. for a while my anorexia was really bad. to the point where food was truly disgusting to me, just the thought of it was enough to send me into dry heaving.
i could say that my control freakism is because of my ocd. but if that were the case, i don't believe that i would feel such a sense of immense accomplishment when i was able to control things. so, i believe it's an ego thing. it's a "i will control this. you are not hungry." and then, i am not. and when you ignore it enough, you condition your body to simply not recognize the signs of hunger as hunger. it feeds my ego.
i am trying to explain all this to you. when in the honest truth, i don't even fully understand it myself.
i get moments, glimpses of understanding. but there is always something deeper.
but as i learn more, as my understanding deepens, i will keep you updated. rather extensively, in full disclosure. if you have questions you are more than welcome to comment or email me! < 3
and i am finally getting to the point where i am ready to explore it emotionally.
it has taken years to get to this point. and two full fledge breakdowns in every facet-mentally, emotionally, physically. all of it.
my life consistently flows between anorexic and almost anorexic.
i know now that it is because i have never truly dealt with it.
next week, the 6th of march, i have a rolfing appointment and an eft (emotional freedom technique) appointment set. and i couldn't be more excited and equally terrified.
i am forcing myself to face the emotions head on so i can once and for all fix this.
it's going to be hard and scary. but i have air (ariel, my best friend) to support me and many others in my life that support the holistic way of life and healing.
this is my journey, and it's finally starting.
welcome.
xo
air
2.03.2014
fresh start
let's start again, shall we??
i have changed so much from the girl who started this blog back in 2010.
i have gone back and deleted old posts for reasons that seem silly now.
this is my blog. my journal.
i strive to be open, raw, genuine, and authentic 100% of the time.
it's something i am working towards, but eventually, i will get there.
i struggle with one thing, boundaries. to know when a fact or detail is imperative to the story. you see, i love full disclosure. but sometimes, full disclosure includes other people where it's not my place to tell their story. so, i am working on being able to be fully open on my end, yet vague on other's.
so i am working on it.
you see, when i find blogs that are written in full disclosure, authentic, raw, and genuine; i find comfort. i find someone who truly honestly struggles, and doesn't mind sharing how they came out of it. in that i find knowledge and strength.
and that, is what i want to be able to do for others. i have in no way had an incredibly difficult or bad life. but i do have quite a bit of life experience, and if what i have found can help anyone else, it's well worth it to me.
so, i am starting fresh.
i erased all my old posts, that go back and forth, that share facts that weren't mine to share, the were contradicting and confusing and negative.
i want this blog to be positive, overall. and i want it to be just an insight into the folds of my brain.
i am back.
#taketwo #ormaybe300
i have changed so much from the girl who started this blog back in 2010.
i have gone back and deleted old posts for reasons that seem silly now.
this is my blog. my journal.
i strive to be open, raw, genuine, and authentic 100% of the time.
it's something i am working towards, but eventually, i will get there.
i struggle with one thing, boundaries. to know when a fact or detail is imperative to the story. you see, i love full disclosure. but sometimes, full disclosure includes other people where it's not my place to tell their story. so, i am working on being able to be fully open on my end, yet vague on other's.
so i am working on it.
you see, when i find blogs that are written in full disclosure, authentic, raw, and genuine; i find comfort. i find someone who truly honestly struggles, and doesn't mind sharing how they came out of it. in that i find knowledge and strength.
and that, is what i want to be able to do for others. i have in no way had an incredibly difficult or bad life. but i do have quite a bit of life experience, and if what i have found can help anyone else, it's well worth it to me.
so, i am starting fresh.
i erased all my old posts, that go back and forth, that share facts that weren't mine to share, the were contradicting and confusing and negative.
i want this blog to be positive, overall. and i want it to be just an insight into the folds of my brain.
i am back.
#taketwo #ormaybe300
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)