How have things progresed

I sit here with my brain bursting with energy in some odd way. Not quite anxious, but a bit displaced in knowing what to do or what feels right, unsure how to express itself. At once I wanted to draw, by then I realize I have at least of yet mastered the ability to scrawl out anything in which could express myself. Usually when I do so it is words, and as such, here I am.

Well I went and met my dietician today. She seemed happy about things in a way. I am a bit torn, but oh well. That is, I feel better, physically and psychologically. It is quite amazing actually. I don’t think in any times prior I have felt this way in “recovery” I have always been so physically and psychologically in pain, times prior. Holding on with a death grip that was at once numb, unaware it was holding on. If feels as though that vice has lifted. I credit it all to God though. I feel I certainly have that promise in my heart, and received it when I thought back to Linda samonim’s words about challenging God, about how if you do something by faith, then challenge God, tell Him, if you do it, He has to take care of the pain. She was just talking about the physical in that sense it seemed, but what is more is, not just that, but the psychological as well. While the ED at once wants to scream that I should not want such a thing to be well, it is at once silenced by God. Not me. I could never do so. My mind would be overwhelmed, but He has taken care of it. There isn’t really a “how” but He simply does. That is how. How I think on the Bible and it says that Jesus took our sins sicknesses and infirmities. How there is the verse which states, as He is we are in this world. Does He have an eating disorder? No, then neither do I. Does he have distressing thoughts tormenting Him? No, then neither do I? Does He have pain in any way? No, then neither do I. At once He has already reconciled them.

I did realize earlier though when speaking to the dietician how I am afraid of branching out more now that I’ve gotten a good pattern down that does not cause pain/ bloating discomfort. At which I realize I am then filled with the desire to go forward and trust God, bit by bit, trying something different. It gets scary and overwhelming in trying to figure out “what”, but that again will come in and of itself. That is, I can not take care of that fear, but God can.
What else? Physically my body is still beat up. I can sense it more so now I think. So much tension built up over years and years. Over training and making my muscles so tight. I rewatched a video on how to stretch the pec minor and major, as I am aware it is part of the cause of my rounded shoulders and winged scapula, despite it feeling like it isn’t “so bad” that is, it’s not constantly aching, so I realize it may feel okay to me, but that doesn’t mean it is normal. Was able to then visualize the pec minor with the video I watched and it’s location/ how it is shaped and with that, using a stripping technique, able to locate it and since then it has been quite sore, and released a bit perhaps. Prior with improper technique, it didn’t seem like anything was wrong, but with the right angles and technique, a problem not once felt was revealed. I find that amazing in a way.

The other day when walking in the market square, a sales rep from LA Fitness gave me a seven day pass. I went in this morning, and it was quite nice, unlike 24 hour Fitness where they just show you around and try to get you to buy in, LA actually do an assessment of your goals. I was able to explain my goals right now in terms of just recovering my body/ healing my over trained muscles and correct imbalance, at which the two guys seemed a bit shocked. The one guy did seem genuinely concerned and at which he shared about himself. He had a history almost like mine. Quite sad in a way and also eye opening to realize, perhaps how many people, despite not knowing by looking initially have such limitations or disabilities physically. It is perhaps quite naïve in a way, but I often feel like others have more freedom in things to *just* do things, but in some sense realize that there are others like me, or whom deal with the same sort of things. Perhaps it is just that I rarely deal with such people in real life, but more on the internet; and while I know those people are “real” it always seems like it’s not around me. But I guess it also is. In any case, he could be much older than me (if not the same age or younger?) but he showed me the scars on his elbows and how he apparently messed up the growth plates in them from going to hard in Football practice, overtraining in high school and they had to be replaced with steel. How his shoulder had problems, and tore something, that the doctor told him they could do a very expensive surgery that had a fifty/ fifty chance of working or not. He said how that meant if he ever had kids, he couldn’t even throw a football with them and how his other shoulder had problems so that was there to. He said I was like the “girl version” of him. I kind of wanted to laugh at that, but yeah. I wanted to say “eating disorder” but was like, eh nah. Not yet anyways. When I told him how I trained, even he said how I need to cut down, and how the idea is balance, how 99% of the people he’d met, and how I’d been the first person in five months or so he met that had this problem, how most were the opposite, but for me I was doing so much that it was hurting me. How by overtraining it messes up ones immune function, and talking about bone mass, etc.

I mentioned how I’d lost a lot of weight but gained some back now. For the record, gained about 13 pounds now. When asking about nutrition, I stated how I had a dietician, which they said was good, and that was covered. He gave me a basic work out plan on correcting imbalances, which I wouldn’t plan on really implementing anyways until my body really feels up to it, though simple stability or strengthening things shouldn’t be problematic, as long as it isn’t further aggravating tight muscles, but then I suppose that’s where making sure I am working on those through foam rolling, stretching, etc. I actually get my one free session with the trainer their tomorrow. I know they’ll try and sell more sessions on me, which I probably won’t be able to afford, anyways, but I’ll be interested in seeing his assessment. I mean, as much as part of me knows they’re going for a sell, it was interesting to be able to talk with people about such things. The trainer had already given me some suggestions when we were talking about performance and muscle imbalances, etc. and what might be best for me to target. Also about putting muscle on, and what not. That is actually one thing that is quite annoying now actually. Despite being at a higher weight now, I still do feel quite weak, though I don’t recall if before at this weight, while still losing if I had been weaker/ lost strength and just accepted it or was able to lift more/ do more. In any case, it is what it is. I do miss that in a way. It’s funny, how I can miss that and get annoyed in a way when I feel my arms and be like, “damn there’s nothing there” but then at once when I look at them be like…no. Or it’s like..they’re thin but not? They’re not dense, but then there’s not much to them but then I want there to be but not? Man this is confusing.

With my legs, I think I still have a fair amount of muscle mass, albeit probably fatigued and tired. I am wondering actually what I should do tomorrow for me pre-session meal. I made it at nine, despite that usually being my mid-morning snack time. I want to be more flexible and since that is the time he proposed, I decided to accept it. I keep thinking I want a quick smoothie of some sort, as if desiring a protein shake. Actually not protein though, or well a more balanced one…almost want to go out and buy a supplement to try, if not so expensive. Well, I will figure out something I suppose.

I am glad that I am able to experience this in a way. Despite how the ED may try and make me feel horrible, in some ways it feels worth it. At once the ED throws out the idea of relapse, as though it is only “letting me” do this, so it can “have fun” ravaging my body and mind again “the next time”, worse than ever. Hey, maybe it will, maybe it won’t, but until then, when it tries I’ll just have to take it along for the ride and go with it anyways. I can’t control it, but God can.
In terms of getting a job right, now I feel my body healing seems more important, but at once am looking still. I believe God will have one show up/ be there when it is time. At once though, my mom suggested something I am perhaps going to try, that is a dog walking business. Or at least, advertise around for myself. Now I think I shall go and look up how to make my own design for fliers…or at least how or if it is okay to use designs off the internet on such fliers? I have an idea of what I want already and if I had any artistic skill would draw it, however I do not. Maybe I will ask someone I know…Ah. Yay. Being able to breathe in and truly relax and feel at ease. This is nice. I am trying to take it in while it is, and not worry so much about when it isn’t. Amen.

Just whatever comes to mind

I feel compelled to write and just express whatever comes to mind in the moment. Once again, I am surprised with how well I feel. It is so odd to me, that I can have such a “high” intake and not be in terrible pain, bloated and anxious and hurting physically, as well as psychologically, though on some level I know how connected they are. I credit God for taking care of that pain and also Him giving me the wisdom to be able to at least try to take step which are not harmful to myself. The idea that foods “should” hurt, etc. and be more intuitive, rather than reactive in fear and anxiety. I have taken to eating rice the last few days, as well as kim chi, and nori with egg and wasabi with shoyu. I have some daikon pickling, as of yesterday. Quite simple to make, requiring rice vinegar, water, sugar, salt, and a daikon. Been adding lemon to a lot of my food, and drinking warm water in the morning as I have for a while now, but with added lemon juice. We have a lemon tree, so yeah. Decaf coffee with my increased breakfast that includes a cup of probiotic yogurt with powdered ginger, cinnamon and flax seed, and then my mid-morning snack being oatmeal with lemon juice added to it. At lunch, I add lemon to my pita sandwich at times, and follow up with maybe more decaf coffee, mid afternoon, with my snack, maybe the rest of that decaf (basically I keep reheating or drink the same cup cold through the day), or lemon water, with dinner, as mentioned, been eating kim chi. It seems these things have really been helping my digestion, as well as reminding myself to breath deeply, and untense my abdominals, to not use my “rescue” breathing muscles, but the diaphragm. Having stretched and worked out the tension and trigger points in my abdominals, obliques, around the ribs, and lats. Still a work in progress, but much better than it was. Still have a fair amount of tension in my abs probably, but working on it. I had a gift card for Dick’s Sporting Goods from two or so Christmases ago, and so with that, bought a  stability ball and have take to stretching over it, which seems to help, though I need to be careful of my neck. The tension there seems to be enduring, however has been there a very long time and sleeping wrong the other week seems to have set it back and tweaked it. I am trying to make sure and keep my neck and shoulders warm while I sleep/ covered, lest they just tense up. I noticed this before when it came to chest muscles also, how if I wore a tank top, and the side of my pecs are exposed, how in the cold, it seemed my muscle would get a muscle knot, at weird as that may sound. A few days ago, when I woke up, I touched the back of my shoulders and noticed how they were cold to the touch, though I didn’t necessarily feel it, and as such am trying to make sure I keep my muscle warm as to prevent such spasms, muscle knots, etc. and allow for my body to relax.

And there’s that.

Thoughts. First post of the New Year and how things have been. Feeling hopeful yet scared, how it feels so contrary to what I am used to yet that doesn’t mean it is “wrong”.

Oh what ever. Just free form it. I was looking for possible journal topics in order to spur deeper thinking, but it feels like a bit of an avoidance and I keep thinking whatever I am thinking or feeling is not “right” or have to have something thought out and concrete to get down, but rather at time writing things out can actually help me figure it out. The fact is that sometimes we are uncertain and that is okay.

So today I feel pretty good, which is surprising. I think my intake is even higher today than some prior days, and I don’t feel physically horrible. I don’t know how to feel about that. Or well, it is confusing that I don’t feel horrible, physically or psychologically, though it feels like the ED definitely wants me to feel bad, and am wondering what is blocking it from making me want to die at the “enormous” amount of calories. It is probably because on some level it still feels safe knowing I haven’t hit the amount the dietician has ascribed. It is a about 500 more than I was eating before, and somehow, over the last week or so of having increased it to such, my weight has stayed the same, which is bizarre. Or well it thinks so. I feel more bloated and bigger, but my energy on some level also feels better, my body doesn’t hurt or ache with tension and/or anxiety, probably because I have not felt the extreme need to drive myself into exhaustion, feeling that, that is the only way to not gain weight. The ED has this logic of if I feel like I have energy, I must be getting fat, because a calorie is a unit of energy, and if I have energy, then that means I have calories in me, which means if I don’t get rid of it then they will turn into body weight. Yeah. It sounds weird even when I think about it and wonder if I even believe that or it is possibly just my minds rationalization as to “Why” but when asking myself, or it, that is what comes to mind. Kind of also like the idea that I shouldn’t need food; Why? Because I have fat on my body. I shouldn’t be tired because I have all of this fat. Fat is a unit of energy, it is stored energy. I have all this energy, so I shouldn’t be tired.

Yeah. Something.

Well, yeah. It feels like this time around, rather than prior, I feel like I am healing more holistically, or in actuality. Before I couldn’t really even get a handle on what I was doing. Yes I gained weight and ate more, but it was still highly distressing all the time and I was afraid of everything and couldn’t catch a breath out side of the wave of anxiety pummeling me and drowning me. There was more food, more weight, but the OCD compensation was totalizing and miserable. It was horrible and pointless in a way. The ED also hated it, but was also trying to use it to get me to change, because it would only let me eat if I did that [OCD] stuff, which causes pain, and an inability to do anything else, so the only other option is said, and still says is to do what it wants, and everything will be fine. You know, until sh*t blows up.

This time around, I have been able to challenge the anxiety all around for the most part, down to the smallest things that I don’t think people may even realize. Small movements, being able to untense a shoulder, take a breath, not worry or get anxious over it. The idea that if I were to untense, it would be bad and allowing my body to “get fat” or feel how fat it is or will be. I’ve been able to step back and look at them and realize that they don’t really make sense. There does seem to be some possible ED driven prerogative though, in that by doing so it will help my hypothalamic, pituitary, adrenal axis, calming down fight, flight, freeze, lower cortisol, and allow my body to lose weight or at least maintain a lower weight. However part of me knows that is it over all healthier and beneficial to not be so wound up and tight all the time. It also doesn’t mean that I have to be “fat” and unhappy and unhealthy to “recover”. That is one thing I think that is ironic and confusing in a way when it comes to what the ED may color recovery as;

When I see myself at a higher weight, I perceive it often as gross and unhealthy. It doesn’t feel good. It feels “bad” and unhealthy. Yet what that is, at the same time, I think is all of the built up anxiety, of the aforementioned chronic stress, “adrenal fatigue” for lack of a better term, as well as many other things. Weight in a sense is not the problem, but it is related in a way. Yet if I am able to gain, and feel healthy, feel less tense, more whole and not “gross” and tense, crawling out of my skin in that weird way I am not quite sure how to describe, well. Yeah. Why wouldn’t I? Well yeah. As I try to accept the idea of a higher weight, the ED also seems to want to plot my demise of being twenty pounds or more less than I am now. Meh. Or. Well, I want to dismiss it as something that’ll never happen, or worse and I say worse because I know it is how others may perceive it, but the honest truth is that most of me doesn’t really care if I relapse in that way because my values still seem to align with the idea that getting deathly thin is like a fun game. I don’t even know. What do I gain from that? It feels fun. The idea of doing something extreme and being able to feel intensely. Feel intensely and yet at once be so out of it. Probably why I like running long distances too. How when I’ve run marathons, the way one pushes themselves. How it is something in which, you are exhausted but at once can not quite feel it. It feels surreal. That feeling of surpassing limits which seem impossible and just…numb? I have to wonder what that is exactly. I’ve never been particularly thrill seeking. Or that is, I’ve never been one of those people whom seeks out fast and dangerous things. If I look at it, I take the slow sort of approach. Things that can build up over time. When it drags on so long, it can feel like an eternity. Things that make time feel like it is going slower. I think that is what part of me likes. Doing things at an extreme pace, or way, but at once that calms, that slows time, that makes me feel like I can take things in. It is ironic, because it feels like that and yet, can barely remember it in a way. Is it just the feeling then? Sometimes it feels like on that level my brain can more readily absorb. As it has been recently, it feels like my brain is always on, trying to hop from one thing to another, unable to slow down.

It feels like a bit of an OCD thing, in which like when I question if I actually have memories or not; or just think I do, but don’t. I wonder if I can actually understand or comprehend. Can I actually listen? Do these words actually make sense? Did I actually hear the words they said? Did they make sense? Did I know what they meant? How do I know they did. Actually, this may be a theme I haven’t quite been aware of until looking at it just now like that…Interesting. It is weird because, when I listen to things, I always think I do not learn, and do not understand, but then when people ask me things at times, I am able to reiterate what it is I heard and then I get confused like, “Wait, I actually know that?” Hm. Might just go back to the memory thing too…or Intertwined. Something.


In any case, as I was saying prior… I feel more enlivened now. Prior times I had no interesting in doing other things beyond what the OCD or ED wanted. I “had to” just do my rituals, alone, and burning calories or eating my “safe” foods at exactly the right times. Now, while times are still a big factor in a way, I am learning to be more flexible, but more importantly, through out the day, rather than doing the OCD “have to”s, I am feeling like instead I *should* be doing things more “normal” that is, things that are not to appease the ED or OCD in some rigid manner, but things more in line with “real life” I won’t lie, as they still often have to be activity/ movement based in some sort, though that is often life in general. I have issues with just sitting down, but can allow it for a short while, or broken up in spaces of time. Yet, I have been able to go do stuff with Gramm, go somewhere with my aunt, go to a store and get things I need, leave at earlier times rather than wait the OCD/ED regulated time to try to alleviate anxiety and how it says I “should” feel, though part of that does seem to be related to the legitimate lessening of physical discomfort, that I had even prior to this last lapse. It had never really gone away, and part of that it seems was due to my faulty breathing patterns, unable to let my stomach expand and things “move through” all the tension built up in my abdomen, anxiety, killing all motility in a way as everything was tense, the flight, fight, freeze response slowing everything down, etc. Now, I am grateful that it is all being resolved. When pain or discomfort feels like it may be coming, I am reminded of my conversation with Linda samonim when I was in New York. How I was afraid to eat because when I did, I was afraid of how much it would hurt. She said do it by faith and challenge God, be like “Hey God, if I am doing this by faith, if you want me to do this, you have to take care of it. I am trusting you.” I was reminded of this a few weeks a go (a month now?) when my anxiety was very high, as my bloating and discomfort was high and trying to not stress over it more, when I was reminded of this again. It then came to me that, not only the physical pain, but also the psychological pain. God has to take care of that to. I reminded myself of that and talked to God about that, like Linda samonim said. It wasn’t my problem, it was God’s. He had to, has to take care of it. I am not living, but Jesus inside of me, He has to do it. He took our sins, sicknesses and infirmities. So there. It wasn’t me, but Him. Amen. And I remember on that day when I first gained that faith in my heart over this word, how the anxiety instantly seemed to abate and rush of calmness and thankfulness overwhelmed my heart.

It’s scary, but at once, I have hope. I will perhaps present this testimony at church when I get the chance. The ED wants me to feel ashamed about this, but at once if it is truly God whom has done it, there is nothing to be ashamed about what so ever. I am reminded that I need to live in front of God and not in front of men. That is one thing the ED seems to try to use against me as well. This idea of what other people will or do think of me. That if I gain weight, or at the size I am now, they will judge me, or make fun of me, belittle me. Think I am fat, and the connotations around that being negative. This, despite Thomas telling me that is not what people actually think. However the ED says, that when I am a “healthy” normal weight they won’t be thinking that, and will think I failed and got to fat and I can’t win either way. If I am thin, they won’t like it and say gain, but then when a “healthy”, “normal” weight think I have gone overboard…yet with that logic perhaps, then go forward anyways if I can’t win their hearts no matter what. Rather, look to what God says instead. What He thinks and says about us. What is my own perception of my body? Confused. It actually does seem to change though when I think about what I think others think of it. If I were in seclusion, part of me feels I would be okay with it, because I’d have nothing to be ashamed of, since no one else could see it…that is though, to say I’d be hiding? Would I be ashamed if I didn’t know other standards or that there were any? Or would it simply be. The idea of going into seclusion to hide away from it though implies shame, versus the idea of having never known it. I think what it is, is this idea of that no matter what I do, so long as another person exists, the fear of being seen as wrong by them. Even if it is not. The fact that one can think ill of me. “Wrong” not in just making a mistake, but in that by making a mistake, it makes me a horrible person. Morally wrong.

Just like perhaps the idea of eating more, how prior when people would say ask God for help, I couldn’t reconcile it because it seemed like that would be asking God to help me do something wrong. How if I felt like if I ate more, I was harming my body, which was wrong. So how could I do that? How if I was eating a food, it was harming me, and how could I then morally justify the idea of purposefully harming myself? How by eating, weight gain would follow and show. So even if people didn’t see me eat, it would almost be more shameful in a sense, because they could see as “proof” by the fat on my body how I harmed myself, even out of their sight. Like self harm scars, but of my whole physical being. That is actually what has stopped me from self harming many times. For some reason to me, it always feels more satisfying to do on my arms, but if I do that, other will see, and then say something and judge. It is seen as “bad”. So then, I don’t. I have often thought to myself that if I could somehow self harm and it not be visible, as if by cutting, it were to just last but a few seconds on the skin, before somehow disappearing or be masked somehow I might be covered in them. Or well, thank God that isn’t the case I suppose. Well that sounded morbid, now didn’t it? How much of this do I actually mean anyways…. I wonder as well. How much of it is my brain just spewing things… How much of it actually means anything. Does any of it actually mean anything? Okay, verging on (or already in?) OCD making me doubt what is real or comprehendible or something like that. Deep breath. Okay, well, it’s been a fair amount of time and partially more free in my mind as far as cognitive load being lightened I suppose.


I am glad I am able to share this experience though, and move forward. I am still scared in some ways and unsure where all this is going, because for so long the idea of feeling okay and being “normal” as seen disgusting and pathetic and impossible, at once forlorning  myself to a life of being happy and fat, ironically. But part of me is wanting to try and dare to dream of something more, beyond the ED and OCD, actual “life” and productivity beyond it. Perhaps that is, other values and goals beyond them, or despite them. That when there are other things to grasp onto, that they may not seem so important. Though they hate that. But. Oh well. And how it hates that. How scary that is at once. But part of me wants to take that freedom and dare to be happy beyond them. It is a bizarre concept to my brain, or feels foreign, yet there it is. And it may seem foreign, but the only way to have that lessen is to get more aquainted. Of course, through all this, my mind feels scared but a buzz with hope wondering what this is. That at once without trying, through that promise, through what Linda samonim said, realizing how God has to take care of all of it. The pain, mentally and physically. How I can rest in that. How the words of Minister Song, when I asked him about Eccelesiates 3, and Nehemiah 9:36. How the Israelites tried to control things and that is why they were unable to be happy, and free, enjoy that which God had wanted to give them. How despite that, God was able to work. How through giving up everything in a sense, how realizing we can’t, or even if the flesh still keeps trying to convince us that we can, knowing that we can’t. Only He can. How it is only through His Grace. I shared that testimony a few weeks ago at Regional Service after Dwayne had gone and talked about needing Grace from God. How indeed, we cannot do anything, and He has to give us Grace, including the Grace to have faith, to do anything. How I sincerely on some level wished for that and how at once knowing only He could give me that heart. Surely but slowly in some sense if feels like that has happened. It has happened. In God’s eye I am perfect, because He is perfect, His son is perfect. I think back to when I first received Salvation. How in my mind I felt it. How I felt Satan get scared. He knew God had one, however had decided he would try to make it as difficult as possible to take me, drag me along the way, at least in this life. He couldn’t take Salvation from me, but he wanted to try and make this life difficult. But he knew God won. So as much as some of this is so arduous and at times have wished for death, part of me rests soundly. I watched a video yesterday of the funeral service of a girl whom died, committed suicide as a result of her ED. The funeral service was held at a church and her father and pastor said some words. They both talked about how anorexia was a liar and in contrast what God’s word said. How anorexia was a result of sin; not the persons, but sin in general, but how Jesus has overcome that, He paid for our sins and how that girl was in heaven, not because of anything she had done, but because she had accepted what He had done for her….I didn’t watch the whole thing fully, and will perhaps watch it again, but it stuck me hard in a sense, when I was anxious yesterday. It felt more potent, hearing someone else say out loud how anorexia was a liar, how in contrast, what God’s word said. Some around me might find that ironic, saying they’ve said the same things of sort, but it felt different…I often feel those around me don’t take it seriously…I don’t know, maybe I don’t know their hearts precisely, but it’s scary. I feel like they think it is easy and on some level it is, or rather is simple, but not “easy” how if I were to “just”…but precisely that is why it is not. How it is mind bending. How I fear, or how the ED has me fear that I will get over it “too easily” and as such make them think they were right and it was “just in my head” and nothing was actually wrong. What is this perverse distorted thinking? Oh right. At once I try and remind myself, I need to look past, or despite what others think and look rather at what God says. Amen.

Christmas Eve

Trigger Warning: Numbers

It’s Christmas Eve and I sit taking deep breaths trying to not be anxious over having eating about 1900 calories for the day. Possibly my highest intake in…quite a while. I want to eat more, but I don’t. Well I’m afraid if I eat more I will feel sick, and regret it. It is 8 PM, which is scary too. I don’t want to go asleep later feeling sick and wake up with that gross full feeling. I chose to stay home rather than go to church and eat and partake there. I could kick myself for that, but actually I prefer this. More able to process. If I was there I would have been anxious and hating myself, wish I hadn’t gone, and anxious sitting there wondering what else I could be doing, not sitting being anxious unable to focus.

Then there is what Thomas said earlier that is making me scared in an OCD way, but since it is an OCD way, I am hoping it will therefore not come true. He said something like watch there will be some irony like God making me big, even when I eat nothing, and I was like, Oh God, he’s voiced my worst fear that is in the back of my fear that I think will actually happen or is happening and as such it must be true; however that doesn’t mean it is true and if anything since I know it is OCD, it definitely is not. Of course though it still tries to put that “but” in.

This morning I woke up with my weight at 82, despite yesterday it being 80, and being like “F it” in terms of intake, that is, seeing how I am gaining regardless, I may as well try to work up to what the dietician said, in that at least I will have someone to “blame” when the ED berates me, and may as well eat more if I am gaining anyways. Hence that fear Thomas said causing more anxiety in a way, since it is what I felt was/ is happening regardless. Though part of me thinks that my weight is up because of water retention. I was standing a lot more yesterday, baking, and I did notice earlier, distorted perception aside, my calves looked thicker in a weird way. I put my compression socks on, so I hope that helped a bit. I also came back home around 5:30 and did a legs up the wall sort of post and felt like it was helping a bit.


My mind says I am scared because I ate those last calories so close to night, and so close in time. Though rationally I know that happens no matter what time of day because I think it is all too much if it’s above a certain amount, so yeah. Gramm was wondering why I was so angry, but it’s that I was so anxious trying to decide if I should or shouldn’t eat something and at what point is it a binge; because anything over my “normal” amount feels like a binge. It also has an issue with the idea of calorie dense foods and maybe thinking I don’t need them and am just eating too many since they are so small or full of sugar and just making me want to eat more, but not eat it. I ate a small apple, and then one of those “rounded teaspoon” sweet n low chocolate chip cookies I made for Grampa. I can’t even remember if I ate a ginger cookie or if I spit it out. I may have done a bit of both. I kept trying to eat a piece of brownie, but then ended up just spitting it out each time. I also had a cup of hot cocoa, made with half a cup of milk, and about 1.5 tbsp. of Ovaltine. and about 50 calories of a high protein chocolate drink I bought the other day when out, but was afraid to drink, because of the weird way it tends to make my stomach and head feel/ heavy and slower. I don’t know if it is from the sucralose, or the alkalized cocoa (I notice this feeling when I drink things like instant hot cocoa), or something else.

I’m trying to tell myself it will help me sleep better, rather than be full of energy and unable to sleep. Maybe I’ll be able to wake up early enough tomorrow to make my Dad his pie. Probably not though. Man. I wish I’d be able to do something different and spontaneous, but at once it’s confusing. IDK. I’m always afraid to change my food intake in fear of my body somehow reacting badly later…of course if I ever want to, I guess I have to go through that. Which has me thinking, or wondering if I need to/ should get that probiotic the dietician mentioned. I kind of want to, but then don’t want to have to take it indefinitely. Particularly because the one she suggested is about $50 for a month supply. *puts feet up on desk* maybe that’ll help with the swelling feel. I can’t deny part of my brain is hoping that this “excess” eating tonight will somehow speed up my metabolism and lose weight. Part of me cringes and wishes I could have just gone to church and eaten there with everyone and eaten “well” and “enough”, but know that I would have been more anxious and unable to eat as much and be more stressed. And at once the ED would want that. So yeah. This is weird. But perhaps it is in some sense me having to learn how to do what is best for me, rather than what might seem better to others outwardly.

When I went to church earlier, I had no intention of staying for the dinner and service. I said hi to Thomas first, then found samonim and gave her the cookies and brownies I made. She said go say hi to Minister who was in the office, so I did, and gave him the other container of them I had for both of them. He then tried to get me to go to Dallas again for the Winter Retreat. I already told him in a text this morning to please not try and say otherwise. I feel on some level though he is only doing what he is told/ thinks he should do, though perhaps despite his own better judgment as well. I can’t quite figure out this one behavior he does. At least, when talking to people directly I don’t usually see this I think. I don’t know if it is just him thinking to himself or if it is as a result of having conversations with me that he finds distressing; that is, when talking to me, at some point he uh… *looks for picture since I don’t know how to say what it is exactly?*

pinching bridge of nose

Pinching the bridge of his nose I guess. Kind of like almost rubbing his eyes, but not? Yeah. Of course when I just searched that, this came up. “Negative evaluation”. Not sure if that fits though. Besides, when we’ve had conversations before; like when he actually though I would go and was going to, he stopped and did this before saying “Thank you for listening to me.” So yeah. Not sure.

In any case though, I knew he wasn’t going to change my mind, I have no desire to go, or in the least not now, after all when it comes to Gramm, not having a job, spending money and looking after Grampa. Yeah. I understand where the church is coming from, but there is always next year. I also think God may not want me to go if the ED is only going to try and use it to be abused and not eat/ be all anxious and over exercise. So part of it actually hates I am not going. So then in that aspect perhaps God is glad then. Something.

Okay. Feel a bit calmer now. Not worrying about how the food *will* make me feel. Or well, going to do some yoga to wind down and then hopefully be able to sleep well. Which reminds me, I had another distressing dream last night where I was in a casino or something…but besides that, of my teeth being loose and felling out/ spitting them out as I felt them twist and come un-rooted from my gums. Perhaps that is a sign I need more food. If anything earlier when I upped my intake though, “Well even if I don’t think I need more weight maybe it’ll make my skin and everything else better”. Which reminds me, when I went to the doctor the other day for my swollen lymph nodes, and my neck was hurting from sleeping wrong, I felt sick and hot/ feverish. Yet the nurse said I was normal. I said I run cold, but then she looked it up and said 97.6. I was like s***. If this is how I feel feverish, how cold have I been running? And I tend to feel to hot when asleep…Huh. Or well, when wearing the onesie my Dad and them bought me, but too cold otherwise. And right now I still feel like I have a sore throat…man. This is annoying. I feel too fat right now, but at least I have the fact that when Thomas was talking to me earlier, he put the tense we were talking in as me being too thin now, despite me not seeing that what so ever. I think I look perfectly normal/ as fat as I did ten or fifteen pounds more. Which it might not be completely distorted though because…weight distribution. So I might be “puffier” in a sense, despite being less in weight. Hey, at least…wait…Well IDK. I did tell myself before as a sort of motivation that once I hit 82 I’d be able to run again, but this weight fluctuation is so confusing. And not sure/ don’t think my body could optimally handle that stress right now. Perhaps best to let it heal. And yes, that does partly come from a fear of over stressing my body and putting on weight gain more easily; at once though I know that to be healthy, and for my body to work optimally, it is not wise to stress my body like that. Still need to get all the tension out and let it relax until I am perhaps more intuitively able to do such movement. I want to be able to do a marathon again, pound out miles with ease and fluidity, but not with tenseness and lethargy and rigid movement. Okay, yoga/ stretching time…though my feet/calves feel a bit swollen. Maybe legs up the wall or something with that sort of angle for a while first.


As I click to publish and put in a title, I realize I totally lack the awareness or thoughts, or consideration as to what this day (or coming day) actually mean, or feel like. It’s difficult for me to get into any holiday or celebratory spirit in a superficial(?) sense, however I perhaps realize I don’t need to do that, but can think deeply as to the true meaning of this day. Christ was born (or soon to be) though actually debated as to the true date, it is a commemoration of the event, knowing he came into this world and would soon redeem all man kind from sin. Once for all. Amen.

Narratives of the eating disorder and other things that have occurred recently, I suppose

I state the title as such because while these things come to mind as “reasons” or “why” I may feel a certain way, it very well may just be something the eating disorder makes up, or rather what the cognitive mind makes up in order to rationalize the “why” of something. It doesn’t mean I inherently mean it, maybe I do, maybe not. It feels real on some level but then don’t so many things which when looking back we can see are skewed and deluded at times? I wonder how many thing prior I have written or stated that can also fall under said category. At any rate, here we go…

So on Monday, I was somewhere with my friend, and he seems to continually try to point out to me the idea that I am thin. In this instance he pointed out my wrist, but then I went on to say how the rest of me got so much bigger. He half-jokingly said, why not get some three pound weights and do some tae-bo like moves so that we I’ll have muscle and be toned. I replied how the dietician I saw a month or so ago stated that if I ate the amount she gave, I wouldn’t gain fat at first, if anything just muscle and whatever else to replenish my body. I didn’t respond to her at the time, hesitated within my own mind, but I have been thinking about the concept of gaining weight and how I see online, people trying to say gain muscle instead perhaps, to assuage their anxiety or feel better about it perhaps; at least that is how it comes off to me. In any case, the thought that comes to me quite clearly is, “I don’t care if it is muscle or fat, I just don’t want any more mass on me.” I told my friend that and he went off on how in other countries, women with more mass are desired, etc. but that’s usually to impress other people, while mine is different because I am not trying to impress others, but myself in some way. It’s kind of funny, in some way it seems like that, as when others might say I am too thin, it’s not attractive, etc. I do not care, but in any case, all I still tend to think is people are judging me for being too fat, or eating to much and being a repulsive eye sore to them…but of a different topic. Yet when I’d told him before, how I couldn’t even reach my hand around my forearm anymore, and then again, hesitated in what I was feeling or thinking, but did wonder to myself after, why is it I felt repulsed by mass on my body? Why is it I wanted to tell him how it felt much safer when I could feel the smooth hardness of bones? It feels safe and whole. Completeness, unyielding. Mass, muscle or fat is still soft. Muscle might be denser than fat, but it still gives. I may have some extremely dense muscle knots in my shoulders that feel like bone, but with enough work, they do give…and crunch. Still working on those…anyways. This idea of bones feeling safe, certain, hard, steadfast. You know that is as far as it can go. There is certainty and calm. I look at pictures from three months ago and now my sense has perhaps warped again. I look at think I wasn’t think at all, was still fat, no bones are showing really, or not enough. There was a sense of safety then though. There was in some sense that feeling of fragility, which also in some ways felt safe. Is it even the bones then or the frail feeling which is scary yet comforting at once? It is like some feeling of really living, that you are hanging on and everything feels an effort but just perhaps then, in that moment feeling like you are enough, in that you are trying enough and maybe don’t have to push so hard, or more so than you are because just living in some sense feels so scary and the small things can be enjoyed when utterly exhausted. When not that way, trying to do things in many ways never feels like enough, you can’t hit that point of calm and relaxation, of knowing everything, or nearly everything is spent. Your muscles may ache when a higher weight, but that is the thing, at least for me, I can feel the muscles. When utterly spent though, when that muscle isn’t there and the body just gives and relaxes…What is this? Does this even make sense? Perhaps not. Eating disorders try to make what they were feel like grandeur when looking back. In some ways it felt safe though, only in knowing it would be over. I would cry almost every day, after that was when the relief would come, but then shortly after waiting for the build up for it to release again. When finally able to get out through God’s grace, the safety seemed to be in me not having to control so much, or rather fight against the ED, and some safety knowing, or seemingly knowing I needed to gain, or was encouraged to eat and that it was okay, while that fragile feeling and bones protruded, and that angular smooth feeling remained. Now not so much and it is scary. When I move my arms, when I look at them, it is not so. I had to go try on clothes earlier today and it makes me upset even now just thinking about it. I have to wonder why I did this, and why I can’t just go back, how stupid it is. I am so large now, no one will think that I should eat or have to or that it is okay, and that I am just way too large. Not just that though, but that perhaps, if people around me are not lying to me, and they do think that I am small, then perhaps it is then that I am lying by default into letting them think I am small in which, I feel awful and feel the need to rectify things by actually becoming as small as they think I am, to prove them right or to somehow legitimize things…


Samonim said something to me on Sunday, which had me think about what she said though. She said I chose to starve myself while in New York. She said she realized she had no power to change anyone’s mind, that God showed her that as she was so stressed out in New York, begging me to even eat an apple. I said I didn’t choose to do that though. That’s what I don’t get. But then when I think about it, on some level didn’t I? I knew what I was doing and then when that scary feeling was looking though of the ED getting worse and making a decision, rather than fight it, I just submitted because it served my purpose to some end. It is what I wanted. I though. At once it wasn’t though. This is where I get confused. I don’t know. That’s why while on some level it may have felt like choice, at once it definitely felt like I really couldn’t put up a fight. Did I really even put up a fight, or did I just half make it seem like I did? I wanted to eat, I really did, but then I felt like I couldn’t because if I did the ED would haunt me….no, I couldn’t eat. It wasn’t an option. I wanted to. I called my mom while in a bathroom crying, saying I wanted to eat but they didn’t get it. She said something I still remember, that showed me perhaps a bit more insight than I thought she had, “Kianni, I know you want to eat. I know you from when you were little. You LOVED to eat, you just are afraid to eat now because it gives you anxiety.” That is one thing that pierced me. Even now as I think about it, I feel quite moved, as my eyes well…. I don’t know what to think at once because part of me wants to deny all existence of that, while the other wants to whole heartedly believe it is true. This is a despicable disease, truly… At once it tells me there is no disease. My mind has been playing with this idea of denying that I even have an eating disorder. After all, if I am adamant that I am okay and nothing is wrong, then there is no issue, why say I am sick, when at once in action or in talking to others seeming to adamantly deny the fact, or why you cannot change, should not gain weight and do not need to eat more? Is that in some sense denying an eating disorder then? Behaviors and what not I can put down to OCD, and that I would like to change. But an ED? Noooo. I just have peculiarities…No, not even. It is just how I eat. Or don’t eat. There is nothing wrong. There is no name to it, I am fine. Sigh. It is trying different angles. Part of me regrets ever telling people I have/had an ED. Before it did so in a way, to perhaps make them just aware of why I may act bizarrely, or to assuage guilt in being so fat yet weird around food, or telling because they clearly could not see and the ED wanted validation…it was also perhaps in some ways a reassurance check. I’d like to think there is some other better reason too, like educating people about them to, and just being open. I think in some instances it also goes to show how much it is ingrained within my self-identity though. Sadly. It’s so weird, it is and yet isn’t. Or rather, the mind is blind in a way as to what that means. Going back to the “I have an ED” and then feeling like you certainly cannot change and what you are doing is right, despite having just stated mental illness, but then that in itself being the confusing reason as to why you just stated such things…. Part of me would like to believe it was that in hopes of being more open I could actually change, but when I look at my actions it always seems like fear gets in the way of whole heartedly wanting to change. It’s that uncertainty and waiting until I find something “right”. I ask, hoping maybe, just maybe something will help, or maybe even so that it will at least seem like I am trying to get better or my brain will quite and help me, let me move on. That is one thing, when in New York, samonim didn’t seem to get how I was just able to dare to try and eat again. It wasn’t like I was able to go against the ED voice in some sense actually, it just got very quiet. I had my anxiety still of course and fear, but when so sick, it is like God had my brain and body exhausted, to which it reacted in an survival like way, making it so could eat and live. Thank God for that… So yeah.


I had fellowship yesterday with Minister, and he wants me to go to Mexico around New Years for the English Camp. I said no, I couldn’t even fathom it. I am considering just Dallas, but am still iffy. That’s three days, English Camp would make it at least a week I believe. If going to Dallas, I am going to take a plane…basically spending money on that is what holds me back, but I so do not want to ever ride in a bus or van or car for twenty-five hours again, there and back. It is traumatizing to me in a way. My body aches just thinking about the past times and how my mind glazes over, and breathing shallows as if just trying to shut down and not think about it, but obviously not fully and not so successfully…that does not feel nice and would rather not go through that again. Also why I’d rather not go to Mexico, as that is like a seven or eight-hour bus ride into Mexico… I was straight forward in all of my distrust yesterday too. I don’t know if he was actually upset about it or just stating things as a way to try and get me to change my mind. He has a point, like I told him in theory, but I don’t necessarily believe it and hence well. Yeah. I just don’t want to have that trauma through traveling. I was able to reflect on some things he said though, when wondering about the point of all these things and that was quite poignant, and I don’t think my brain has fully processed it, but perhaps is coming together bit by bit when wondering the point of everything all together within life.


Which reminds me, it also triggered an OCD theme I think has come up before, but I might not have realized, or was not too familiar with, but was able to realize pretty quickly and thought of Mark Freeman’s video on memories. Minister told me, that since I went to New York, at least I had a bunch of new memories right? I was like, “I don’t know” and he was like, “Yes you do.” And reminded me of certain instances and I was like, “Yeah” but then was like, do I remember? Or do I just think I remember? But is this how memories are supposed to be? Aren’t they supposed to pop up in some other way? What if I don’t actually remember but just think I remember? I’m not trying to remember something, or anything in particular so I don’t know, do I actually remember? Do I actually know what happened? Is this just my eating disorder screwing with my brain?


Yeah. Then at some point later on in the day, kind of panicked over it again and texted my friend, but then kind of realized by then it is OCD. I think. If I go any further than that and question it, though, it will end up in a confusing spiral, so that is pretty much what has me think it is an OCD theme.


I also don’t think Minister grasps the ED thing, because when I think about Dallas and/or Mexico, and then food…aha….eh. Yeah. No. I don’t know. Going to New York, I felt like I knew what was going to happen; crash and burn, be unable to eat, but the other part of me felt that was ridiculous, that I was too fat and greedy and liked food to much, that I would snap and hate myself and be filled with self loathing and anxiety every day like times past, but eat….kind of like how I feel now in a way…anyways. Yeah. I did have a short amount of fellowship with him on Sunday though and he said he didn’t want to be like, “Eat, eat eat.” All the time to me anymore, but rather to preach the gospel. I can agree with that in some sense, as I’d stated in a previous post how that was my heart of sorts; that despite the ED (or you know, that which denies is there are this point from time to time), go forward and do things…Which is what in some ways he is saying, but at once that feels scary and irresponsible. In that sense then I don’t know if what he is saying is then out of faith or…ignorance.


I also feel the need to apologize to them. To minister, samonim, anyone else that may have to put up with me like they have. I’m sorry because they do not understand perhaps where I am coming from. Minister yesterday, said in some sense he questioned if I really have salvation, and if I have any doubt to talk about it; which I don’t. I know he was trying to be rough and shake me up in a way to change my heart, though in that sense it doesn’t work on me, after all as we all know in the church and even he has preached again and again, it has nothing to do with who we are. What he said though was, “What, you receive salvation and don’t change? What has changed?” I didn’t say anything then, again, delayed reaction of sorts, but when I think of it now, I kind of want to smirk. He didn’t know me three years ago, or four. He has no idea how much I have changed; how much better this is. I know I feel at time like things are horribly difficult now but if I do reflect, indeed this is much more peaceful, which I can be grateful for. At once I wonder how much of this is superficial change but not entirely within my heart, however that has to change first perhaps. I also wonder how…or what is what exactly. I feel like over the last few years or so I have been able to be more “me” not masked by paralyzing anxiety to where I couldn’t even think straight. I also have to wonder though how much of this is me and how much of this sharpness is heightened by an eating disorder. I feel I have gotten much more of a mean streak in me, a bluntness and just…sarcasm which I may not have had before. A sort of jaded feeling perhaps. I am not sure. So…yeah. What I’d want them to understand though, what I’d want to apologize for is my lack of understanding other people, other human beings and being able to see them as humans. I was fourteen when I first got really sick. When the ED hit hard. After that it completely destroyed my life. Before that I was only barely able to start making some good friends. I had always been pretty shy in some respects, but my freshman year of high school I think I was able to make some close friends for the first time ever and navigate, or perhaps almost on the road to navigating such things. I was in some sense already failing perhaps, but it was a new doorway and opening to emotions and interaction which was scary…the ED was perhaps blocked that out, in addition to many other things. Once that took over my life, there was no more fun. No more hanging out with friends. I never developed those skills or interrelationship like things. I didn’t have fun times with friends, going to the movies or hanging out. I had nights crying in my mom’s walk in closet on the floor wishing I’d die or in the least pass out or be drugged, begging for the anxiety to go away. I didn’t have times with people talking or doing things. In school I didn’t have fun with friends, interaction was sparse, all time was generally spent worrying over food. I spent maybe fifteen to thirty minutes at most interacting, but nothing more. No plans, that was impossible. Everything was overwhelming and scary. Recently for whatever reason I think I am able to more clearly see people as people, if that makes sense. Part of it seem to be that God has let me be able to actually look at people, at least momentarily when speaking. I can perhaps grasp a glimpse of emotion or facial expressions. Reading them is a bit confusing,  and when people speak and use intonation or say things, it is like I can almost perhaps guess what it is they are feeling or what is actually meant, that there is something behind it and not just words like a robot…I want to apologize for being like this in a way, at twenty-four being so inexperienced. These are things that small children should perhaps know, but for whatever reason I am delayed in. Sigh.

Another thing would be how when Minister asked me something, I replied with, “I don’t know” He said he didn’t want to talk to me with my “I don’t knows” He was tired of always hearing that from me. I’ve heard that a lot from my own family. Growing up, at some point it is what I would always respond with. Given what my Dad has told me about him discrediting all my choices at a young age, I can probably guess as to how this habit came to be. Why answer, “Yes” or “No” or aver anything when no matter what you say, someone will state the opposite, how it is not true, it is wrong, why it isn’t and so forth? Being contrary no matter what you said. If you say one, they will say the opposite. What is the point then in responding with anything? What is the point of them asking? What is the point in existing? May as well be dead. Well perhaps not to them, if they just want to use you to profit something and fulfill their own desire. At once then, from the answerer’s perspective though, why do they get such a thing, while we just have to blindly follow or accept? Rather, I would prefer not. In that sense perhaps I feel quite jaded.

Well there is me bearing my soul for now. I was actually able to sit down and be able to be more or less involved and not anxious or distracted, worrying about food, which is a plus; despite what the ED says, that is, that I should obsess and worry because I shouldn’t be allowed to eat…not that, that makes sense because I could do so either way without having to worry, employing magical thinking which does nothing but go in a circle and perpetuate itself and grieve my soul… How do I end this now…




Reflections on Fear

When I think about it, it is kind of ironic how I have an anxiety disorder. Or various ones, if you will. It seems ironic because I think back to fifth grade and how that shaped me in many ways. In my school at that time, the elementary school went to fourth grade, and then Intermediate/ Middle School started at fifth grade. In any case it seems like the kids in fourth grade, or by the end, were getting more “mature” as it were, or just more crude and open to more adult themes such as sex and perhaps violence as well. That is quite odd to think of in a way, but such is the case despite the seemingly young age. I don’t remember everything, but I know I was quite shy back then, probably added on to the fact of in fourth grade, having a certain OCD anxiety hit regarding a certain person, whom while it was kind of resolved, wasn’t in my mind. In first grade I had one such OCD like them hit, but I had actually been able to express my fear to my friend – and since it was towards his best friend, it was remedied; I was afraid I’d done something terrible to him, so his friend just helped me apologize, intent on that he would accept my apology…of course that kid had no idea what I was talking about, despite my massive guilt…I have them both on Facebook now. So anyways…

In fifth grade, for whatever reason, my classmates in I, at least of few of us, seemed to be quite close. One thing though was that in this new middle school, it was a “tougher” sort of crowd. I don’t know why, but we would generally…not bully each other, but got off on trying to make each other scared, to flinch, to show weakness. We would “fight” not fist fights, but hit, not hard, or slap maybe, grab one another, in a playful sort of way, but again it was like trying to make the other person show weakness. I hung out with mainly boys and was very into basketball despite being so short. I remember onetime bouncing my basketball down to the court while some other kid said, “Hey look, a mini baller.” At that time too I believe, I would only wear blue jeans and t-shirts. I remember I prided myself on Halloween for wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, as if being “above” such childish things in a way, how it was ridiculous. Showed weakness. You had to be hard, you have to be cold in a way. When someone did something to scare you, you had to be blank and not show emotion, as if it didn’t phase you, and also had to have quick reflexes. It contrasts in a way, but you had to seem as though you didn’t care, as you quickly dodged, or quickly moved at something yourself. In that way you could perhaps show emotion though, when moving on someone else, a smirk on one upping some one perhaps.

I have to wonder how much of this was all just the perception of my own mind. Yet that was how I perceived it. It wasn’t like we were all cold and distant, but it was in some ways the culture…? Kids trying to grow up. They talked about “getting together” with other kids, and despite being 10 or 11 years old, perhaps as always in a way, looked at me as being a bit more naïve. I was though, at least in terms of some of the things they spoke of. I didn’t even know what sex was, as far as I can recall, or maybe vaguely, but they spoke of dating, and I didn’t get why or what…Oh and the swearing. How did I forget that? It is like it grew exponentially from fourth grade to fifth grade. I recall at the end of fourth grade, a friend getting in trouble for using the word “sucks” but by fifth grade, f-bombs were flying and all other words. Actually one of my friends at some point or another got into the habit of calling everyone and everything by the N-word. I didn’t know that word had any racial connotations or was even a “bad word” until about 7th grade because of that.


That year was special in some sense, or colored things to come, as the school then changed, and by 6th grade things were different. I was bullied a bit that year by my best friends new friend whom did not like me. I still tried to keep that same calm demeanor. I don’t know at what point things changed…It wasn’t like I kept a cold demeanor all the time though, because I was happy…I think. I think though, I have always been quite anxious. I think it is that in some ways that sort of conditioning helped hide said anxiety. I remember in fifth grade getting terrible excema. My friends would notice it and comment how I scratched. On the inside of my elbows and the backs of my knees, red and raw, and itchy. Sometimes it would bleed. It would hurt a lot of the time, I can feel it just thinking about it in a way. I would put Aquaphor on it, and my arms and legs just felt forever all oily, but would still scratch it raw as the ointment and dead skin accumulated in my nails. Nice image, I know. I can’t remember when it lessened, but I think by 7th grade it had diminished. By then I was at a different school though.


By 7th grade, I know I had anxiety. The thing is, again, I don’t think I knew I did. When I look back on my eating habits then, from what I recall, they were already abnormal in a way. Or disconnected, but I also wonder if mine were ever normal and not set by rigid thinking of what “should” or “shouldn’t” be and other such rigid thinking. I got triggered in the latter end of the school year by a classmate, plagued by horrible OCD anxiety, which never really ended until I moved from that school in 8th grade. I would have it triggered after that though, in 7th grade still anytime I accidentally hit someone in the hall way and I think, also, so much as passing someone and getting a thought. I would cry myself to sleep and get sick over it. I believe I had to panic attacks in my sleep. I would be in my room and it would feel *dirty* and I would get anxious, clean everything/ put it in “order” it would still feel dirty, throw it all off the shelf and start again…same thing, be exhausted, go to sleep.

Again, it is odd to me in some sense…or maybe it is just…the age or being “in it” and not knowing…I didn’t realize anything was wrong? I knew things felt wrong, but it was because I felt it was legitimate? I didn’t question the thoughts? Perhaps it was just my lacking of meta-cognition at such an age, I don’t know.


In any case, I reflect on fear today, and earlier in the car. I am trying something new, or have tried something new today, to see if it would take the cognitive load off of my mind a bit. Not ideal, but in the least temporarily in order to move forward and get some strength. I set alarms on my phone, four of them so that rather than having to…”having to” worry, all day about eating at the “right times” and *needing* to worry and check and recheck constantly because I am afraid of eating before it is the right time, but also knowing my mind won’t let me after a certain time. The OCD has me so rigid, the ED wouldn’t mind not being stuck on that or caring. It tries to screw me over like that, in saying that if I am eating, I have to be tortured. I realize now though that I don’t have to. I don’t have to be tortured. It doesn’t make it any better or worse in terms of outcome of being “fatter” or not in eating. It makes me less anxious and less fearful of food in a way, not feeling like I “have to” eat, or being afraid I will because I can just have the reassurance in a sense of the alarm going off. I don’t know if this sounds messed up, but it’s like I win and the ED wins. If I were to describe my goals right now, it would seem like not recovery from the ED, but from OCD and it’s obsessionality. Mainly from all of the mental rituals and anxiety that proliferate all day long if I let it have free reign. It actually is a hinderance on the ED and it doesn’t like it. At least when it is not in tandem with it’s desires.

Man this sounds messed up right? Eh.

So my main thing today was feeling okay in between eating. That is, trying to actually live life, rather than eat and then be all anxious and worry about the next time I have to eat. and then the next, and the next, as to which I hate living and wish I just didn’t have to eat because it seems to cause only pain and anxiety all day. Realizing that instead, I can actually do other stuff beside eat and worry about eating and making things revolve around it. It doesn’t have to be that which the world revolves around. Something to agonize and feel like if I do eat, how it has to be just “right” and perfect and something I “should” obsess about, otherwise, “What is the point?” yet that did not bring happiness, and as such, despite the ED saying I shouldn’t do it anyways, taking the stance of, well I am, so may as well make it not so painful in this way.
The heart I have recently and perhaps more since last night is this: I want to be able to function as best I can despite the ED. I don’t want to have to hide anymore in order to be “healthy” physically or in the least to be “allowed” to eat. To eat only certain things at certain times, and feeling guilty for having to go home because I can’t seem to otherwise, but then suck the life out of life and make it not worth living. So in some sense my stance right now, at least in theory is; I will go out and live life, do things I want to do, breaking out from the rigid themes with time and food. That doesn’t mean I will eat necessarily when out, if I can’t, I can’t, but I am not going to use the anxiety of feeling like I “have to” or “want to” eat, but only this special not so anxiety provoking thing, away from all people as if hiding in shame sort of thing…that gets no where. So if out, and I can eat or feel like I can, I will, but if not, oh well. In theory. I mean, I haven’t exactly been anywhere yet…minus last night, but eh. It didn’t make me happy feeling like I was doing what was “right” by eating yet being a coward by going home eating something “safe” and at once feeling shameful and fat, and not even knowing why I was doing so. I realize I live/lived as though my life were on show, as if there was someone else I was answering to with this “right”, but it was not the case. Much like my rigidity now I see in terms of numbers with intake. I feel like I “have to” have a certain amount, otherwise I will get anxious, afraid I won’t feel right. It is ironic in that it is a higher number and usually I have to figure out how to make it that number, but then it is a particular number, and/or exchanges. Divided into how many of each food group or what not. Part of me wants to challenge that with realizing, “You know you don’t have to right?” Though part of me says that is scary as if telling the ED it is right. it isn’t…it is, but it isn’t. I can feel “all right” I can survive, but…well. Actually I don’t know. But that might be the EDs siren call or hypnotic spin as I feel my mind warp a bit…


This afternoon though, my mind wanting to worry about food, and noting how energy draining in some sense it felt for me to stay calm and not be in the habitual worrying, yet going down the mental chain of remembering I didn’t have to worry, that just because I usually do, or am accustom, doesn’t mean I have to or that it is “right” and that I need to be suffering, it doesn’t change anything by doing so, etc. Or rather, it doesn’t serve me perhaps in growing and being happy…I get confused when I type that in some sense because it asks when was that such thing a goal…relief. Perhaps. In some sense I feel deluded. Like my mind wants relief to preclude that which would be more though my happiness is wrong. Though.. I don’t know.


I say calm and less anxious, but at once when examining my thoughts at various times in the day, it was distressing, but perhaps intense and then…something. Maybe this isn’t so much calm as tired from that…Well, no it is calm, which is odd. Part of me wants to squirm and mess it up because it feels so abnormal. And no, at once, not calm because well… I don’t necessarily know what that is. And my thoughts, and demeanor in some sense reflect that…if I could see my nervous system right now, what would be activated…or how much I wonder.. Part of me feels more at peace in some ways because I feel like I was able to , or rather God allowed me to,  calm my digestive system and breathing, which is miraculous in some sense. I did a certain breathing and movement exercise, among other things and am glad I did, and will probably be implementing it more regularly, if not daily for a while maybe. It is weird to say but I look forward to tomorrow morning to see how my stomach reacts.  I noticed this afternoon before coming home, how things felt different. Since I’ve been home, come back from New York, I have been fascinated in a way and taking pleasure in noting the unwinding of my body as I discover and change various things. Things before that didn’t seem possible perhaps. All the tension in my body, digestion, and the mind-set following them as well. I have gained weight, which is distressing in some sense, but at once, the other aspects of my body changing are pretty welcome, as far as tight muscles. Perhaps part of me will even cede in saying gaining some weight was good, to help me be more flexible, or more…less bony, to be able to do these things and digestion as well being able to be fixed. Noting how my lower abdominals change and react…scary but at once, relieving in a way. I reflect again on emotions. How my emotional reactions manifest in my body. How prior a lot of things I would have not allowed, or cringed against and ignored. The holding patterns in my body, in my stomach, neck, chest, legs, arms…everywhere. How as I learn to relax my breathing and muscles, how despite it feeling scary, to take my time and learn to question or wonder why I was so guarded and hopefully be more free and see the changes, while prior I would have felt it not possible or for me, for whatever reason… I ramble. Earlier when worrying about food, and then noticing how I worry about worrying, feel like I have to then feeling like it is wrong, but in a black and white sense. being able to ground myself more; realizing worrying isn’t inherently wrong perhaps, or that is fear isn’t necessarily wrong humanistically. If I am being chase by a tiger, then it would probably seem apt. It is okay to feel fear, but doesn’t necessarily serve me, at least in that context. As I heard Scott Abel say yesterday, as well as Geneen Roth’s book “Women Food and God” say, you can’t self hate your way to happiness or something like that. Meh, I ramble. I wonder if I got *everything* that I wanted to off, and the OCD tells me I shouldn’t stop until I do, but then, hey realize if I find something later, I can type it out then, despite it being adamant I have to “Now” (think of the spoiled rich girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. The original one.) Oh well, rather than looking at it as a hinderance, trying to look at it and other such things as a positive, a challenge but that which will strengthen my mental and spiritual fortitude, rather than be a drag.

In any case….off to do something else now. Not sure what, but hopefully not worry about food.  Possibly work on my scalenes….and vacuum my room.

Stepping Stones, Judgments, Acceptance and whatever else is rolling around in my brain right now


Trigger Warning: Some numbers.

This topic came to mind yesterday while also pondering a different sort of realization I’d had two days prior as well.


Two days prior while walking around distressed by thoughts about food, weight and exercise, wondering how it got that bad again and wishing they would go away, but at once engaging in a compulsion I realized that I can’t expect them to go away when my very actions were predicated on them being there and acting around them.

Walking around yesterday while thinking about that, I was then thinking about the holidays and how distressed they made me which then made me feel even more guilty that I can’t “just” be happy or partake in them, or enjoy them, whatever that means. I don’t even get what that means actually. We don’t really do anything and by “we”, I mean my family, and we don’t have friends that have house parties nor do I have a job in which I would have to partake in some sort of festivities. Yet I sighed and thought, or perhaps realized; I don’t have to. This idea of things having to be fun, or that I should have whatever sort of life that is “happy” is what was causing me misery. How about striving for just feeling okay? At least at first. This article came to mind as well. You can’t really expect people whom loathe their bodies to go on flaunting them or dripping in self-love. Perhaps that is also why I have found the concept of body image and self-esteem quite disgusting in a way…To strong? Disgusting…Eh, a little too strong…Disturbing…Disconcerting…uncomfortable. It doesn’t quite sit well with me. That’s jumping a whole spectrum way too quickly it seems, at least in theory. It jumps from one extreme to another with no seeming concern or acknowledgment of the middle ground which make up the whole “journey” in actuality. Perhaps it is like that too with recovery, and life in general perhaps.

That idea of how things “should” be causes more pain. I want to let go of this idea of being happy, at least now. That is, the desire or expectation that things should be. When I feel not so happy, I don’t want to compound it with more guilt of how I shouldn’t feel bad and then guilty over how I shouldn’t feel guilty. My mind has been highly distressed as of the last few days. I’ve been incredibly bloated, stomach distended, which causes a lot of mental turmoil. It makes me feel scared but at once safe…well not safe, it makes me want to use it as a very *reasonable* excuse to not have to eat and to make it go down and lose weight. I just feel scared. I want to use it as an excuse to drive to church early, walk around and then just skip dinner, but be around others to distract me from food and not eat, and be afraid to anyways since I am around others and not hungry and too fat and shouldn’t be allowed to eat more, because my god, how can you eat with your stomach so big? Obviously you’re not hungry and you don’t need it.

I realize how much my mind has gotten clouded in a sense from when I first came back from New York. At once maybe I was distant as to how seemingly “fast” I would gain weight, or rather, how at my height, how a few pounds show easily and how I am afraid to do anything now because I do not want to gain, while just seven to eight pounds ago, I felt much safer because well, I was thinner. It didn’t feel as scary to do different things because I “needed” to gain weight, or at least could without it being too bad. Maybe I needed a little and I had a cold, so my body felt weak. As well as for those around me to placate them, but now…I don’t see it. I definitely don’t think I need it. I don’t want to. I can’t gain…or I don’t want to. It is distressing. Doing different things and dealing with the distress is difficult in that my mind associates doing different things with gaining weight and that is scary. At some point I got to comfortable perhaps and then wanted to keep avoiding the distress, as such, trying anything new didn’t seem to align with my values so much. I keep trying to remind myself that the point was to become more flexible and that the discomfort could be seen as good and necessary…but I’m so scared of gaining weight. I’m afraid of feeling hunger and eating and getting fatter because I don’t need it or somehow by doing these different things I will gain weight. At once the ED itself hates this OCD thinking. That is why it was so much freer in New York. This afternoon I got confused as to eating my afternoon snack. The ED obviously says no, you must skip it, but the OCD says, but you “have to” eat it at 3 PM. The ED says, no just wait until five, five thirty or so until dinner. You can do it. Give yourself a break, all this anxiety is exhausting, one meal to the next, it is ridiculous. I feel quite sleepy right now and while prior I was trying to be kind to my body and let it rest, I find the old habit of being like, “No, that is wrong. You are not tired, you are not sleepy, you do not need it.” Coming to a head. Again, it is because I have gained weight. I am too fat, I do not need it. I will get fatter if I rest. That is what it says. I have not gone back to running yet. Ironically, my mind says once I get back to 82, I can run again, but I don’t ever want to get back to 82. 78 is as high as I can tolerate right now. I don’t want the tenth place to have an eight.

 Well that was a bit cathartic. Maybe I’ll call samonim and express this to her. Maybe I need to pray about it first and think about it more deeply though, in case it is just a reassurance check. I don’t want it to end up as such, but perhaps in her understanding this thinking. Yet there will probably be some rebuttal and I don’t want that to be my brain hoping I will *maybe* get it just this time if she says it, I will get it, or not get it and this is why it really is true and I have to do this or that or whatever….Yeah.

Recap of today and thoughts

Today went relatively well I suppose after an initial some what bad start. I got up like normal, lemon water and hot water. I looked up if lemon water actually did anything as I only started adding lemon to the water yesterday since our tree has lemons now. How water, as our heaters are not on yet and will not be until the fifteenth or so when the pilots will be lit and inspected to make sure they don’t blow up or kill us from carbon monoxide poisoning or something of the like. In any case, breakfast, and then ventured out in the cold for a walk with Chase, with the imperative to go up a “fun” different route I have not taken him on yet. It is kind of amusing to see his reactions, as he is in some ways so much like me. When he was it was a different way it was like he hesitated and got anxious, but as such I spurred him forward. Just like my own brain, to get his used to doing different things and not thinking it is “wrong”. All was relatively okay but in the back of my mind I was feeling anxious, however hoping it would pass. My weight was up a pound from yesterday, even though I logically know this isn’t “real”…or may or may not be. It says it is. I hope it’s wrong. In any case, feeling more bloated and unable to go to the bathroom, hopefully not perpetuated by my anxiety. I felt like my lower abdomen was hurting and it caused me more distress and fear of eating thinking I *definitely* didn’t eat it. Was able to then eat something a bit different, scared, confused. Trying to reframe it as a positive thing, of learning to roll with the punches…that was what I was trying to teach my dog too right? I felt like things weren’t “right” as my stomach felt bloated, as if I “should” be able to go to the bathroom, but something was “wrong” and it made me somehow a bad person and fatter, seemingly afraid it would have some sort of snow ball effect in pain and weight gain.  Then knowing I had an appointment at 11 AM at Kaiser on Sunset and distressing over how to get there. Or rather, wishing I didn’t have to go through traffic, or wondering how much traffic there would be, hoping there was none (but this is LA and that seems quite unreasonable) then having to pay eight dollars for parking and then getting out at 12, and then distressing over what I am “supposed to” do for lunch as it seems like a waste to go all the way out to that side of town only to run home to eat my “safe” foods and routine, compounded by the fact that if I sat in my car and then sat in a session at therapy and then sat in my car to go home then sat down for lunch…You can see the theme right? So then I wondered if I could bike there. Thought about it since yesterday actually. I looked up the route earlier in the morning as well. It was pretty straight forward. It seemed ridiculous in a way though. Plus it was cold and I worried about that whole temperature thing, or my bodies seeming lack of immunity towards it. I decided somehow though to go on my bike. Various layers of clothes, vowing not to push myself hard. I had long sleeves on and a light jacket, compression socks and tights which resembled denim. So if I rode easy, I would not get sweaty and not have to worry about over heating or getting too cold afterwards, hopefully. I worried about putting too much stress on my body and how that would affect anything or not. I don’t want my body to be too stressed. I realize after all this time, my body has probably been over stressed. I was trying to block out in a way whatever may happen for lunch. I walked out my house at first and saw the mail man. He asked what I was doing, I mentioned how I was just unsure if I was going to Sunset by bike; how hot or cold it was and what I was wearing. I went back in the house and then came out after having decided. I asked him which route he thought best, and confirmed the straight away I had seen on Google, more or less. As I set off was afraid I may have chosen the slightly longer way. Even now I am not quite sure, but never the less, it was the one that was most straight forward. It was more uphill going out that way, but gracefully, not really tough and with my body being more rested recently, seemed okay with it and then coasting when able to. I wanted to make sure I was on time though for my appointment, so was trying to balance “as quickly as possible” with “but not damaging to my body” or mind for that matter. I didn’t want to get sucked into some disordered mind set of how it *should* be. I got there right on time. Or well barely. 10:58. They say get there fifteen minutes ahead, but well yeah. In any case, remember how I said I “knew” I had an appointment that day at 11 AM. Well as I stood waiting to check in my phone sprang up a reminder. Aha, my appointment was tomorrow. I don’t know why “Monday” seemed to stick so much in my mind, and knowing that my appointment was on the first but I suppose not checking the calendar since “Monday” and seeing it burned in my mind for whatever reason. My heart sank a bit. Was I going to have to repeat this tomorrow? Would I come by bike again? Well the person checking me in, a nice older lady seemed to be in charge there. When I told her that I thought I was there on the wrong day, a day early she said she’d see what she could do. Why not just call the therapist. I didn’t understand what that would do. It seemed they were booked, after all it took me so long to get in for an initial appointment. She called and explained, asked if she had any opening for today while I realized maybe God allowed this. I prayed to God saying please allow it, why else would He let me come here? While I admit part of me doubted, part felt hopeful as if that was the only reason for me to come. My foolishness, but His righteousness corrected it. As it so happened she had a cancelation and could see me right then,  11 AM as was planned for tomorrow. Yay. Thank God. I was checked in and the receptionist canceled my appointment for tomorrow and said that we had to “pay it forward” aha. Serendipitous perhaps. For me and maybe for someone tomorrow. I was able to go in and see the therapist. I think it came off to a rocky start when I mentioned walking and exercise, but then it seemed at some point she did seem to grasp the extremity(?) when I expounded more and I wasn’t talking about casual strolls around the block to take a deep breath and alleviate anxiety. I was talking about something totalizing. I feel like I was actually able to communicate quite well. She spoke about the OCD group recommended, however I am not sure on that one still. I talked about my goals, or that is trying to come to terms perhaps with what they are and not quite knowing what they are. She asked about medication but again I said how I didn’t really think I needed them or wanted to take them. She said with anxiety or whatever it was I was talking about that was so totalizing though, that it seemed to be a possible, reasonable option. It’s kind of odd when I hear that as I know myself to having been much worse before. However, that is my own perception, livening in it so it may be glaringly different to someone else; however that is my subjective reality. It felt worse before. In a different way maybe, but back then it seemed worse. I was doing all the things the OCD and ED wanted and yet was still horribly tortured because it was so focused on what was to come and could scarcely breathe.


We didn’t quite touch on the eating disorder but I will say that I ,or the ED felt quite offended in some way that she didn’t notice or touch on it too much, or that is my weight. It took it as not being low enough, of course. Oh well. After I got out of the session I checked my cell phone. Samonim had called and texted. I’d mentioned to her yesterday that I would be out that way. But then Thomas had also texted me, and he was at the college near my house. So I called samonim but them mentioned them being over there, while she was at church. She said go ahead back towards my house and at the college, hang out with them, which I thought yeah, while I did want to talk to her in some ways, heading back did seem more reasonable in a way…or less anxiety provoking perhaps. I headed back, and with a particular Starbucks I had passed in mind, didn’t stop until I got there, using the last of the money on my card and also realizing; hey this is cheaper than the eight dollars for parking I would have paid and any gas I would have used to drive here. So that helped a bit. I drank my ice blended beverage while on my bike. I figured it would help to not get too cold or too hot while on my bike. I tossed it in a trash can while nearing a hill, got off and crossed a bridge walking, then hopped back on. I got to the college and saw my friend at the tent.


I had texted him before leaving the hospital how I was anxious about what to do for lunch, but then had gotten that Starbucks, so felt like it was “safe”. He asked me what I had eaten today and I responded with a calorie about. He said, “Aren’t you supposed to have like nine thousand a day” My god I love his lack of nutritional knowledge at times. I said no, and then it went on the topic of how many the dietician said should have but that would make me gain weight versus my seeming prerogative right now of not wanting to gain weight…despite my best efforts and gaining a bit still. Or something. Any how, we hung out, with that sort of thing coming up here and again. I’d explain how I’d feel anxious, wanting food, but then couldn’t, so oh well. One other older church sister was there as was Israel, whom is about three years younger than me I think. In any case, just talking pretty freely while also trying to promote the English Camp and Korean Camp we will be having.

By 4 PM, they were packing up and asking if I would come to church. I said no. The confusing thing for me is that, yes, I feel better when around them, but it is also in a food avoiding way. I can relax because I “can’t” eat. Like if I had just gone home instead of hanging out with them I would have more than likely been worried about eating, or eaten more/ something mid-afternoon as a snack as I usually do and usually feel self-loathing over (well like every meal right?). I had gotten a drink at lunch and nothing for that mid-afternoon which then make me anxious in doubting all the food I would normally eat and if I actually need it and “No wonder I am getting so fat, I don’t need it, it’s just in my head.” And so…Yeah. I mean. I suppose it is good to not be obsessing, but something about this seems obviously(?) wrong. Well like when I was in New York. I was calmer in a sense of being free from food, knowing I “couldn’t” eat it. Even if I wanted to I felt stuck and scared, but then with that free, knowing I didn’t have to eat. Couldn’t. Wanted to but couldn’t and glad because I didn’t want to…Yeah. Something. As much as something doesn’t want to think so, something is saying that is inherently eating disordered. Gah. Yeah.


So I got home at about 4:40 and worrying about wanting to eat and feeling like it was to early and I shouldn’t want to eat because I didn’t eat earlier, so I shouldn’t want to now, because if I didn’t need it earlier, why would I need it then?


I also sense this logical also doesn’t make sense entirely but within itself, or some messed up view…but yeah.

So I stalled slightly, putting some ground chicken in Zip-locs and flattening them and putting them in the freezer. By then it was 4:50 something at which I thought, okay, even though it still feels too early, I will make dinner now. I know I used to start cooking at this time or five minutes earlier perhaps to eat at five PM even though I have been trying to move it to 5:30 or more around six to be “better” but then after or at six feeling scary at once. Eh. So there you go. I was feeling torn in the ED sense of feeling like I should have gone to church when they asked me because I would have probably avoided food more but then maybe have also had a good time with the whole “togetherness” aspect. However then that was how it was in New York right, and that was….not right? I don’t know. Maybe that is what was messed up. I don’t know. Well, that was my day I suppose. Tomorrow I will go to the Department of Rehabilitation to sign my “plan” which is to help me get a job soon, hopefully. If Thomas messages me tomorrow, he’ll probably tell me where they’ll be at. I might make muffins or something and hang out with them again, but I don’t know. Maybe I can work myself up to going to church as well, so I don’t know. Yeah. I want to be able to change things but it is so scary. I don’t know why. It’s like where I am mentally contradicts how my actual reaction seems to be. That is my thoughts regarding things don’t seem to care or think, “Yeah, I can do this, it’s no big deal.” While my reaction is often quite different. But at once I just have to face it at some point I suppose. Maybe what I struggle with is the appropriateness, or laddering and building up how to tackle things in steps which I can do. Food is apparently so much part of an entire day though, it feels stressful in worrying about it, but well…in one aspect the ED itself seems to tell me to disregard it and not worry because I can either eat it or not and if I can’t “oh well.”  Or if I do manage something and freak out, and it is still below or at what I normally have…it’s good in a way because my compensatory behaviors and freak out will be “better” than what I may normally do, or at least the same and at the same time I am combating against that annoying OCD rigidity which limits me from doing things normal. The ED doesn’t mind so much about doing things “normally” so long as it can get what it wants. I am not sure how that works with exercise though. It kind of doesn’t though, so maybe that is one thing that conflicts, but at once if not eating as much it usually doesn’t require so much and I think is often more connected to the OCD “Have to eat” which then is connected to “Now have to exercise to burn off.” *deep breath* Okay, I think that’s it for now. Good night.

I’m not picky…

So Gramm went to the market earlier I was hoping I might be able to go with her for fear of what would happen. Indeed it did though. I got home and she wasn’t home, so I walked to the market. As I was across the street she texted, “No low fat yogurt.” I didn’t trust that, so hastened my pace. I went in the market to where the yoghurt was. Indeed, none in my usual brand. Oh well, just get fat free and add a cream top yoghurt like I have been…except, I couldn’t find Gramm. She already left. I walked through all the aisles and outside. Crap. No idea what she’d gotten. I’d also asked her to get some small yogurts but didn’t know if she got the right ones. I felt confident at least with the big yogurt tub she’d have just bought the non-fat then like usual. I walked home, she wasn’t home yet. She must have gone to Costco first then like she said she was going to do prior, to get frozen berries and a hot dog for Grampa. Okay then. She gets home, I am doing a crossword. She’s exasperated and hands me a couple bags. Her attitude is already giving me anxiety. I put the bags down in the kitchen and then my heart sinks. SHIT. She bought low fat of the store organic brand. It is about 40 calories high than my usual yogurt per cup. This isn’t right. I look at the greek yogurts she bought. SHIT. Yep, like I thought she bought the wrong ones. Twenty calories more for the cherry ones. The honey ones she actually got right, but only because they don’t have a different kind; she bought the fruit on bottom cherry ones. Wrong. So wrong. So scary. What am I going to do with all this f-ing yogurt now? I am still debating. I was so scared. At once I know how much it upsets her but then I feel like I can’t eat it. I feel like my house is a place where food should at least feel safe and what I want/ need. I tell her it is the wrong one, but she says, “What’s the difference?” I explain how it is the wrong brand. It is different. She says but it says the same thing, low fat plain. I say it is not the same, if you actually read; and on these that she bought the calories are right on the freken top. She says, “I’m sorry, I’m not picky like you so I don’t notice those things.” When she says that it’s a bit more disheartening.

I’m not picky Gramm.

I have an eating disorder.

I’m not picky.

There is a difference.

To others it may not seem like it, but there is a stark difference in my mind.

I am not picky.

I have an eating disorder.

I want to be okay with eating that yogurt. It’s not that I just don’t want it because it feels wrong for some other random reason. I am not picky. I am the person who gets confused if a food tastes bad, has gone bad, is burnt, and so forth because I think I am “supposed to” like it. Whatever it is. If people like it, other people like said flavor, I feel bad if I don’t like it, or confused as to why someone does or does not like something…It’s confusing in a way. Or just…a mess. I think I am going to have to go back to the store and exchange it. Sigh. Do I really want to do that? I can’t think of what else to do honestly. Going off of my values not fear? I still value not gaining weight. I could alter my intake based on this different yoghurt. I’d rather not. I’d rather get that which I prefer. Is going back to exchange yoghurt really something I want to do and worth the effort? I am anxious to go out, honestly that is what is stopping me right now in a way. Anxious about how much I have eaten, feeling fat. I just want all of this to stop. I want to be at peace. To be able to not feel my body or be aware of it. I hate this so much. I want to cry to someone and lament over it. I don’t think I should though. Maybe that is a reassurance check. This is confusing. Something. I’ll give it ten minutes or something and then go and exchange the yoghurt…this already feels like it will be awkward. Oh well.

This is one thing I wonder about Gramm…or perhaps others around me. I have lived with Gramm longer than my mom when it comes to having and ED. My grandpa to for that matter. I wonder if I’d lived with my mom longer, she would have grown immune or desensitized to this…or not put up with this crap. I think Gramm seems to think it is just “how I am” but what my mom said when I spoke to her over the phone when I was in New York comes to mind. I told her how I wanted to eat but couldn’t. My mom said, “Kianni, I KNOW you want to eat. I know you. I knew you as a little kid growing up. You LOVED food, it’s just that it makes you anxious to eat.” That hit me really hard for some reason. For once, or at least in a rare moment I could feel a connection to my mom, or how well she knew me, despite me really not feeling all to connected to her most of the time, or feeling like I really “know” her. We still know of each other if that makes sense. Our personalities and habits of sort. That is one stark difference I think what I talk to people who meet me now as I am. People at church. They think I hate food, they think I care about health, or am a fitness junkie type person, as might any other person who comes upon me. They see what I know to be my illness as my personality. It may have fused in a way, but at once my mom knows who I was before, at least to a point. She may not have known or understood all the anxiety and what not I had harbored before, but on some aspects she can see it. Just like with my dad, he can indeed see certain things my mom and Gramm could not see, as certain things I get from his personality as well. He can understand. It is kind of scary and sad in a way, but relieving. Also quite vulnerable in a way, but…relieving. I just wish that I could have someone who can understand me and make it all better….Yet God has, right? Why do I not seem to believe it or have it in the forefront of my mind? Because I want some human person here, not God…that is how it seems anyways, but I just want someone here…Someone with me at my side all the time to help. That is probably why as I child I had so many imaginary friends. I had Gary to help me all the time when scared…I had the others to just be there when I did something or didn’t. To distract, to feel better, to run away…To express my emotions in a way I didn’t otherwise know how. I sometimes wish I could just talk to them again. Part of me feels I could but at once, knowing what they are and being older, it seems like an unhealthy coping mechanism of sorts…. I want to find out who I am without this eating disorder, but I dono’t know how. It perhaps may not even be a point of finding, but creating at this point…who am I exactly. I realized earlier this afternoon too, when wishing for reprieve from my thoughts about food, that that would be impossible, or in the least incredibly difficult if my actions were always that of compulsion trying to avoid a certain anxiety or fear from happening which was predicated on that thing which I was constantly fixated on. So to keep the compulsion and then not want the anxiety which it is based on…it doesn’t seem quite prudent. In a sense…I can see it, but no. I need to change my actions and why I am doing something, even if psychologically…of course it doesn’t want me to, but then that is perhaps exactly why I need to…okay. Time to get up and…do something. I fear feeling my body and how it feels after I eat and moving, as if there is too much, anxiety triggered by it’s existence and how much I have eaten, or rather how I perceive it. Yet it exists whether I see it, feel it or not, and ignoring it does not change that fact, so I may as well get up and do what I want to or need to based on my values anyways…


Vent – riding out the anxiety.

I want to call someone and cry and tell them how I want to feel better and do something but then they will tell me to but then I will say I can’t because it will just make me feel worse and then they will get frustrated because why do I call them then if I can’t actually do that thing and/or will not do what it is they said. So here I write…it’s not that I don’t want to…or it is that I don’t want to, but I do want to. Uncertainty? Indecision. Uncertain as to what I want long term which is what causes distress in the short term. I want to be able to just eat and feel safe and warm and content, but I can’t. I eat any more and I will feel sick I won’t know how to handle it psychologically. I won’t be able to calm down or to sleep. I will have such self-loathing even if I try to reassure myself it is okay my brain will just freak out. I just want to be calm and okay, but I can’t…at least not yet. As of now this is the hell I must endure. Torn. What do I want? I want to feel better.

I don’t want to gain weight. I don’t want to feel better then? No I want to feel better, but I just want it under certain parameters and refuse to let go of this ideal of lost weight. If I were to be able to let go of that ideal then there would be no pain, yet how would that come about? I don’t even care about being thin honestly. Who gives a shit? Yet my brain seems to do so without my consent. That is perhaps because it is not about being thin at all. There could be a million other so called “reasons” my brain might try to create post hoc as a rationalization as to why I feel a certain way. This distress moving through my body is overwhelming, however this release is nice. I don’t want good. I don’t want to feel better through something, what I understand now is I just want to hit this breaking point of release. This is what I purposely did in New York… I knew I was in a situation I couldn’t control and didn’t want to eat, so I would just let the frustration build up and build up until I would cry and break down. After that, the angst over food was over for the most part and I could move on, not have to eat and the worrying over it was over, until the next time. I got used to it. Just having to deal with that distress, who cares? It would pass and my mission would be accomplished of riding it out and then moving forward anyways. That’s kind of what I am doing right now, but…Well, is this healthier? I think I ate enough today, I don’t want to eat more, I don’t think I should, however my every waking moment seems to still be around food which I find horrifying when I think about it. I don’t know if it is creeping in more now or I am simply more aware. In any case I do not like it and that one particular video on Youtube, I watched part way…That was not nice and did not help and may have actually triggered my anxiety a bit more, which is pretty difficult to do in that sense. It was a science sort of talk, but…Yeah. No. Move on…

Wave of emotions over. I think. Feel a bit numb now. In that subdued calm way. However it feels like an aftershock almost wants to hit, or like an ebb of anxiety starts coming, but then recedes….I’d kind of prefer it just hit me and be fully numb, calm, out of it, but then if I was I’d probably be disturbed by that to. Eh.