Getting it all out.

(Warning: This post will be very emotionally tainted. Usually I wait till most of my emotions pass before posting, because then I get a better perspective. But I need to get this off my chest now, so I apologize for the way it's presented).

Let's start at the beginning:

My family has always been involved in some way during my recovery. Some times it's been for the better, others it's been for the worse. At the very beginning stages when I wasn't sure I wanted to recover, they pushed me to do what was best for me. They monitored my food intake and weight, and set me up with medical help as soon as possible. Then the situation got tense. Sometimes having your family TOO closely in your recovery can be detrimental. They don't have any experience in treating eating disorders, only what they're read from on-line articles or heard from others. All they want is their little girl (or boy) to become the same person they once were. In my case this resulted in a lot of mental stress, tears and not a little misunderstandings. Finally they decided it was better to back off, hooked me up with a psychologist (who had no experience in treating eating disorders) and hoped for the best. This was the time I made the most progress - I gained weight, stopped counting calories and obsessing over meals and meal times. Suffice it to say I was doing better then I had in a long time.

Today we sat down and had a very emotionally loaded discussion. They are still unhappy with my progress, primarily because I'm not fully weight restored yet. I am no longer a minor, yet they still treat me as if I was a naive adolescent. A lot of things were implied in that conversation : that I didn't WANT recovery enough, that I wasn't pushing myself hard enough, that my unwillingness to seek professional help was caused by a fear of recovery and most of all that they would not support me or offer me any help if I didn't recover "their way".

I won't lie and say that didn't hurt. It hurt because I want recovery more then anything else, that I have made steps in the right direction that go far beyond just weight gain. And I HAVE gained weight as well, just not quite as much as I should yet. I feel shaken and disoriented, because the support system I thought I had just came crumbling down. There are so many things they can't understand about my illness, so many steps of progress that they ignore. And it's just hard to be judged in that way.

Although I do have a confession to make. I have NOT been making much progress in my weight gain over the last 2 months. I kind of stopped caring about it and figured since I wasn't exercising and was eating "normally" it would just happen. Apparently it isn't happening, although I haven't weighed in for almost 2 months. Not knowing that number gives me a feeling of freedom. I eat what I want to and simply don't give a damn. But I've come to face the fact that I probably need a safeguard to keep me from (even accidentally) slipping back. So that's definitely something I will be working on.

But today will be rough. I feel weak (emotionally and physically as per my recent sickness), tired and overwhelmed. For the first time in a long time I feel completely alone with my demons, and they are growing larger by the moment. My appetite is absolutely non-existent and depression is slowly settling over me like a dark cloud. I will go out for a long walk later, because that's something that usually helps clear my head. I just hope I am strong enough to face this alone.

And it doesn't matter if no one believes me, because I know I want to recover. And I will keep taking steps in the right direction, even if I receive no outside support.

Things I've learned in the past few days.

First off, THANK YOU all for your comments on my last post. I'm proud to say that I am feeling better now then I was that day. It's still a bit of a struggle, but I believe it will only get better from here on out.

So here's a quick re-cap of the things I've learned in the past few days:

- If you are feeling weird - it's ok to REST. I didn't and today I have a fever and pounding headache, not fun!

- When one is sick it's best to listen to ones cravings. I woke up this morning desperately craving yogurt. But after remembering my last yogurt/cereal day I decided on oats. I didn't enjoy them AT ALL. When you have a fever the last thing you want is something hot. Well, all that to say - lesson learned.

What I ate:

What I actually wanted to eat:

(Who wants to take a wild guess what I had for snack?)

- Attempting to make a balsamic/soya sauce glaze without the proper ingredients is NOT a good idea (let's just say I had a bit of a sodium imbalance from tasting that sauce trying desperately to fix it)

- Attempting to make vegetarian white bean chili from a recipe is VERY easy (even though I am incapable of following a recipe through to the tee)

- I am addicted to my cornbread (yah, I am bragging here a little bit) and I can never stop at just one piece

(this picture doesn't nearly do it justice, but I was hungry :P)

- Having too much free time turns me into a girly girl (case in point, since I NEVER paint my nails)





- When one is sick sometimes the blandest of foods make you feel horrible and it's hard to enjoy anything. I'm feeling really nauseous after snack, for no good reason :(


- And apparently I am incapable of lying in bed for longer then 2 hours at a time and I feel the obsessive need to blog about insignificant details of my day.



What's an important (significant or less significant) lesson you learned recently?

How do you eat your cereal? I like it crunchy so I usually just moisten it with a bit of yogurt and eat it right away (I actually added a bit TOO much yogurt to the cup in the picture)

When you're near the top... there's a long way to fall

I think I've reached the point in my recovery where the worst is over. The "chatterbox" (sorry for stealing your phrase Katy, but it's such a good description) is quiet for the most part, and I am free to live my life. Old habits die hard, but there is none of old mental struggle, the obsessing over every calorie in every bite of food. I have my moments where things are worse, where old thoughts slowly seep back into my mind. But for the most part it's better then it's ever been

The problem is that when you're near the top, you're a long way from the bottom. And when you fall you fall hard. Today I fell and there was a point I wondered if I would be strong enough to get back up.

It started this morning when I woke up this morning ravenous and decided to brake out of my breakfast routine and ate some cereal. I've had cereal for breakfast before, that wasn't the big deal. What bothered me is that since I was extra hungry I just dumped unmeasured portions of cereal into my bowl, and after eating half of it went back and added some more. When I was finished I was full, not overstuffed, just full. But the chatterbox started up "Oh my God! You've eaten far too much this morning. And what were you thinking not measuring your cereal, you could have lived off a lot less." on and on it went. I did my best to ignore it and push my thoughts aside. Still, come snack time I skimped on my portion a bit. The truth is although my breakfast held me over better then I thought it would, I partly really didn't WANT to eat any more food.

Then came the breaking point in my morning. I looked in the mirror and I looked SO FAT and BLOATED. I have a delicate digestive system, so bloating is a pretty common occurrence for me. But I've never had it happen in the morning. That, combined with my already spiraling thoughts sent me over the edge. I just couldn't get a moments peace, I couldn't focus on doing anything productive. All I could do was try to fight off those thoughts that were flooding in. I kept repeating that these feeling were just feeling and they would pass, like a mantra. Unfortunately this didn't help much. Then I had a confrontation with someone I was close to and I totally freaked out. I started exercising, just to have something to do, to get a moment of peace. Lunch rolled around and I felt at a loss. What should I do? I ate, but every mouthful was a struggle. I didn't restrict, although once again my mind was screaming at me to do so. After that I felt so low, all I could do was lie down. I wanted to cry, but even tears wouldn't come. I felt so overwhelmingly full, but this was only the mental fullness that we all know far too well. My head was swimming and I felt like I was drowning but there was something weighing me down that prevented to from going up to catch a breath of air. I hit bottom and I hit it hard.

I became resentful at the progress I had made in recovery. I wished that I still believed that starving myself would solve all my problems. I wish I didn't know that restricting or purging only makes me feel worse in the long run; and was more unaware of the detrimental medical consequences of these action. Then I could just "cope" with what I was feeling, instead of having to sit with these emotions. A part of me longed for the simplicity of an eating disordered life. Because let's face it, all my life revolved around was not eating and burning off what I did eat. Those are pretty simple goals right there. And reaching them did give a certain sense of satisfaction, it gave me some sense of purpose. More importantly it kept my mind off the other important things in my life. Nothing else had first place, my life was dictated by a strict set of rules and regulations. And it made me feel safe, because I knew what to expect. Every day was like every other day - carefully planned and calculated; the element of "surprise" was virtually none existent. All in a panicked effort to avoid moments like these, moments when I feel there's no point in fighting anymore, that there's more of the ugly then the beautiful in the world and that my existence is simply meaningless.

I remembered the countless times I had told others to "hold on" and that the "brightest hour is just before dawn". I had been doing so well for so long that I had all put forgotten just how hard holding on can be. I had been walking in the light for so long I had forgotten how disabilititated and disorienting the darkness is. In that moment I didn't know what was the right thing to do. Quite frankly I didn't care anymore. I just wanted to make it all stop - all the dark thoughts, the self hatred, the depression. I wanted it all to vanish like a bad dream.

I had to go out to town on some business, so I dragged myself off of the couch and set off. I know from experience that in times like these I need to be out of my familiar surroundings and around people. Thankfully once I got back home I felt better. My stomach was just not feeling up to a snack, but thankfully I was able to get dinner down. This evening I need to tackle the mountain of to-do's I still have left over from this morning, and avoid the mirror at all costs.

I know tomorrow will be better. I know that feelings like this pass, and that chatterbox shuts up eventually. I already feel much better and I am optimistically facing tomorrow and all it will bring. I am still fighting though, and it's not easy.

But just because it isn't easy, doesn't mean it isn't worth it.

In moments like these I need to think about all the people that support me in my decision for healthy. I remember all that this horrible illness took away from me, and what my life was like with it. I review my reasons for recovery over and over again, because I know that I made the right choice. There are people that love me and need me in their lives. My life is what I make it, and I am choosing to make it meaningful and beneficial to others. I have dreams, goals and aspirations that go far beyond the realm of eating and food. And so I am holding on.




For all those of you going through something similar right now, don't give up. We're all in this together and although we may face different battles, we are all choosing to fight them. And if we keep holding on, we'll make it though.

Exercise and appetite.

The human body is a funny thing. Mine in particular never ceases to surprise me.

I used to exercise as a way to curb hunger. I would do a good hour of work out and that would kill any and all hunger pangs for then next 2-3 hours. Between that and chewing gum and drinking diet cola like there was no tomorrow I would somehow make it through each day on the minuscule amounts I wanted to live off of.

Now it seems that the opposite happens. I exercise and I am RAVENOUS. I usually have a pretty good appetite, but when I work out it seems multiplied x 100. This is a good thing, because I know my body is compensating for lost energy and building up muscle tissue. But it is a little unnerving. I'm used to my appetite being a certain way and when I find myself STILL hungry after eating a rather significant amount of food I end up scratching my head and feeling more then a little puzzled.

Take this hearty curry lentil/barley soup for instance. It kept me full for only about 2 hours when the average is 3-4. It's all a little weird I tell you. At least it was yummy.

At the moment I am faced with a dilemma. I love exercise and movement. As a matter of fact I need it to stay sane. And right now to be honest I feel like I'm ready to move on from just walking, yoga and the VERY light resistance training I do.

My body seems to automatically compensate for the burned calories when I work out, through increased appetite. The question is can my mind keep up with my body. I did a light work out today, and when my appetite kicked in I found myself a little uneasy. I did what was right and ate till I was full, but there was a bit of a mental struggle involved.

To be honest my appetite scares me sometimes. I think back on the times I could live off virtually no food and wonder how it was possible. I'm mentally at peace with the amount I eat now, but more seems hard for my mind and body to handle (I still have a rather screwed up digestive system).

On the other hand I still want to gain some weight, and I know exercise will help me do that if I am able to compensate by eating enough. Muscle weighs more then fat and I like feeling strong and empowered. I wouldn't do any hard-core cardio work outs like I used to when I was trying to lose weight. I would focus on resistance training and building up those muscles.

The question is, am I able to compensate? Do I trust myself to not panic when the hunger sets in and actually listen to my body? To be honest I don't know.

In other happy news today the sun came out for the first time in almost 2 months! This was reason to celebrate in my book, so I took the opportunity to stroll around the neighborhood.

Sun, glorious sun!!

Don't I live in the most adorable of neighborhoods :P

Do you have any advice for me about my exercise dilemma. Have you faced similar issued before?

PS: Thank you all for your supportive comments on my last posts. It's so good to know I'm not alone in all this craziness.

Everyone's different.

Everyone's different, everyone's different, everyone's different.

Hopefully if I say that enough I'll get it through my thick skull. Because this is a concept that I can't seem to come to grips with.

I compare so much with people's eating habits, work out routines, meal sizes - almost everything in that aspect. Be it other bloggers, my family and friends, or just random people I hear about.

I have this set idea of how I want my diet/exercise schedule to look like, the amount of food I'd like to eat each day and at what times. I am a bit of a control freak when it comes to my work schedule for the day, and it bugs me when my eating schedule and work schedule coincide. I almost get indignant at my body - "How dare you be hungry now. I'm not ready to eat" Sounds so absurd when you say it like that, but that's essentially what does through my mind. In addition to that I tell myself "I'm not allowed to eat that much now. Look at so and so who ate such and such at such and such a time. They're not hungry yet, so why are you?" It makes life really hard for me, because I'm constantly at war with myself - doing what I feel I "should" do or doing what my body wants me to do.

For the past few days I've tried to conform to the 3 meals a day rule with one snack in between. It doesn't work for me. I find myself getting so hungry my body goes into overdrive and I stuff myself at the next meal. After that I have horrible stomach pains, bloating and I just feel genuinely sick. But I still stubbornly try to stick to what "most everyone else is doing" as opposed to what is right for my body.

So as of today I'm saying screw the "rules". I need to eat 5 times a day to make my body function properly. Some people don't and that's ok. Some people don't eat breakfast - I do. Some people work out for an hour each day - I don't.

It's hard for me not to restrict when it seems that eating only 2-3 meals a day is the "normal" way to eat. But then I remind myself that I'm only choosing to look at things from one side of the coin. I choose to ignore the late night snacking, or the volume or caloric value of those two meals. I just look at it from a logistic point of view, because it justifies restricting in my mind.

The truth is I'm having a hard time remembering what normal eating habits are for me. Throw in the fact that they might have changed over time and I'm really confused. All I know and remember right now is restricting or trying to restrict. And whenever I'm in that "zone" things seem right and normal. I don't worry that I'm overeating, I don't feel that being hungry is weird. I have clearly set rules and guidelines. Without them I feel lost and second guess myself at every turn - "Am I really hungry? Maybe I'm just bored. Have I eaten all my food groups for the day?" And it's hard to have these questions constantly flooding my mind.

But I hope that I will slowly re-learn what normal eating is for me. In order to do that I need to accept that I am different and that my meals and snacks will not look like some other peoples. It doesn't matter because in the end my body knows what it needs, and if I give it what it wants, it won't take any more then what is essential.

Speaking of needs, this is something my body desperately needed this morning :)

The best overnight oats ever!

I loosely measured 1/3 cup of oats (probably was more, because I don't really care) and added 2/3 cups yogurt and 1/4 cup milk. I mixed in 2 tsp of shredded coconut (major fear food till now), a mushed half a large banana leaving in some chunky bits. Stuck it all in the fridge to sit overnight and this is what I got in the morning.

It was ALMOST too sweet for me, the coconut really added that extra something I've been missing before. It doesn't look so pretty but is was amazingly creamy, thick and delicious.

(See how thick that is. And if you look closely you can see chunks of mushed banans in there- yummy yummy good for tummy)

And if you haven't tried avocado on toast with a sunny side up egg you are totally missing out on the good things in life.

Alright, I'm off to see a movie and enjoy a glass of sparkling white wine. Have a nice Saturday evening.

When's the last time you...?

When's the last time you went to a post office, and actually mailed a letter?

Or used one of these (or even saw one of these for that matter)?

When's the last time you bought honey from a place like this?









Or went to a farmers market that looked like this?

What can I say, I live in the coolest town ever. When you see fresh produce that is sold like that, or honey in unlabeled jars you know it's gotta be good.


Or ate something as good as this?

Cous cous cooked in broth with thyme infused chicken, mushrooms and broccoli.

Mini pita pockets (I made them all by myself :D) with tomatoes, cucumber, spiced chickpeas and a yogurt tzasiki sauce.

Recently I've been making an effort to really ENJOY and savor my food (you can read about my revelation here). So I've been trying to have one meal or snack a day that I put specially effort into. And yes, I do feel the need to brag about it just a bit, so you'll just have to excuse the food pictures.

I had a crazy busy day today : mailing a letter, shopping, lunch, paperwork, meetings, a job interview, writing a resume and finally getting here. It was a fun day though, and although I have a bunch of work lined up for me tomorrow, I will be going to sleep a happy girl.

(Hopefully though my oats tomorrow won't be bitter like they were today, because that nearly ruined my morning - mental note to self go easy on the vanilla essence. Nothing that a bit of creamy full fat yogurt couldn't salvage though. )

Take care all, and see you tomorrow.

What's the last odd thing you did recently?

Did you ever manage to ruin your oats?

My relationship with exercise.

I promised to detail my relationship with exercise in a post a while back. So I decided today was a good day to talk about it.

(This could be triggering for some people. If you are easily triggered by descriptions of other people's disordered behaviors don't read on.)

I've always been a sporty type of girl. I genuinely enjoyed the adrenalin rush you get from work out videos, sports and dancing. Before I knew what a scale was (basically) I spent at least an hour or so a day engaging in some kind of physical activity. Be it dancing, soccer or a long walk - I did it for the pleasure. There was rarely another motive involved. Obviously I knew exercise was healthy and kept you fit, but that's not really why I did it. I did it because it made me feel good and I enjoyed it.

I'd describe my relationship at this point as healthy.

Then I started becoming more weight conscious. My body started developing and I gained weight. At first I wasn't too concerned, but after a few people commenting that I'd "better start working out" I decided it was time to try to change my appearance. First it started off pretty innocently, although there were more and more days I'd FORCE myself to exercise, even if I didn't feel like it.

Then it started snowballing out of control. I HAD to exercise and hour each day, with only one "free day" a week. I would work out in the oddest times if I knew I was going to be busy that day. I didn't really restrict during that time, although I did try "dieting" on and off. I got to a stage where I would work out up to 3 hours a day if I had the time. That stage stopped after a short time, but anyone in their right minds could have told me that something was wrong and I wasn't heading on the right track.

Slowly but surely my "diet" got stricter and stricter and my exercise increased. At this point it varied from 1-2 hours a day. My food intake became more and more minimal, and usually my exercise schedule was dependent on it. At this point there were no "free days" unless I was sick or didn't eat that day.

Then my family did a mini "intervention" and I was forced to stop my restrictive eating habits. My exercise on the other hand, didn't change one bit. I upped my exercise in order to compensate for the added food. I stopped losing weight, and even gained some, but obviously my behavior was still very much disordered.

After a month or so of "normal" eating I slowly began restricting again. My exercise stayed at the same intensity, pretty much regardless of my eating habits. As my weight started dropping I was banned from exercise. I would still go for long walks and work out at night in my room. I wore weights around my ankles and would sit down as rarely as possible, just so I could "burn more calories".

I would say this is when my relationship with exercise was at it's worst point.

Then I was put into IP and wasn't allowed to exercise at all till I was nearly weight restored. Afterward I would exercise for about 30 minutes each day. For a normal person this would be healthy and even advisable, but my mentality was that I "HAD" to and that made it wrong. Then I started going to the gym, where I would work out for at least an hour a day. I was still eating "normally" so no one minded that much. I was advised to "take it easy" and "not push myself too hard", but somehow I always managed to allay the worries of those around me. But they were rightfully concerned, and deep inside my heart I knew it as well. I just didn't want to face the fact that I was slowly slipping backward, because I didn't want to stop.

After a while I got a job and had no time to go the gym anymore. But by then my food intake had dropped so low that I didn't even have enough energy to exercise, even if I had wanted to. I was waitressing, so standing on my feet for 6 hours a day, combined with early working hours and not enough food made me too tired to exercise. I figured that meant I was doing well. "I'm not exercising anymore" I would tell myself "This means I'm doing better, right?" Of course I was still losing weight, despite not exercising. Even as tired as I was on the days I had less working hours I would try to fit in some gym time. But for the most part I was just to physically fatigued to do anything of the sort.

Once I went into recovery the third time I was banned from exercise because of the critical weight I was at. Thankfully I was not as obsessive about my exercise habits as I had been before, because I hadn't been regularly working out in a while. What I struggled the most with was eating, as my stomach had gotten used to very small portions. I would still go on walks from time to time, and that was enough for me.

Now, looking back at my history with exercise I can say it's an area of my life I need to proceed with caution. At this point my struggles with food have lessened a great deal, but I catch myself wanting to do more then just walk and do yoga. Exercise DOES benefit me, because it definitely increases my appetite and helps my mood (endorphines and all that). But I need to bear in mind that it is easy for my to spiral out of control. Detailing my relationship with it helps me to clearly see my history, and where I'm coming from. I long for the day when I can have the same approach to exercise as I did when I was younger - when I would do it just for pleasure. Who knows, maybe someday?

Till then I still need to fight not to compare myself with others who can exercise more then me. I need to remember that my body is different, and I have a different history then they do. For some of us it's fine to add a bit more activity to our lives, to others it isn't. I just learn to be content with the fact that for now I need to go easy on myself and give my body the time it needs to heal. Then someday, when I'm in a better place, I can enjoy this aspect of life once again.

What's your relationship with exercise like? Do your past issues affect the way you see it now?