One Year Ago...

So, it's official. I can no longer say "when I was in treatment this time last year." I don't know exactly why this is a "thing" with me, but it sort of is. A milestone I wanted to hit, but it occurs to me this Saturday morning that the date itself is not that big of a deal... because even without that date I would still be able to say a lot has changed.

This isn't a post about change though, not exactly. More of a post about observations and about life.

Last night I found myself out with seven of the ladies from my work to celebrate Kim (a complete sweetheart that's leaving Anthro) and had a good time. I didn't freak out (and wind up just observing everything), leave early, or anything of the sort... I had genuine fun, talked with numerous girls in the group, and even invited my male friend Des (whom they all loved).

We started inside drinking near the bar and wound up outside by the end of the night once our group had dwindled and even though I was there for 5ish hours it didn't feel like it. I discovered that sometimes when people hear you could possibly need assistance in the future (moving or something similar) they actually volunteer to help you - this may sound very un-novel but I assure for me it was a new thing, I didn't have to drink a lot to be comfortable - in fact I only had 2.5 cocktails the entire night, and that sometimes it's good to go out and mingle with people. Bad past friends does not reflect on current company. The night organically unfolded and we laughed at and with each other and some of us even cried a little. We joked about the past, thought about the future (one of the ladies is going on vacation this next week and when she returns will start riding lessons - something she hasn't done since her younger years), and shared stuff about ourselves the others didn't know.

It was good. a night of really living.

Anyways, I'm about to head out to the Farmers' Market to get my usual standard cookie (or two), but tomorrow will be the post I've been trying and trying to write so stay tuned for that.

fear.

When people will read this, it will be father's day... I'm a daddy's girl. There's no question about that. I rarely can bring myself to say anything negative about my father and when I do, I usually follow it up with an emotional meltdown to some degree. Sometimes even thinking ill of my father will turn me to shambles. Whether or not I let people know it tears me up inside is another story.

My father and I held a lot of secrets. Secrets that bonded us together... that cause me to maintain my allegiance (at least partially) to this day.

I had my Laura yesterday (I'm writing this on Saturday) and I read a couple of text messages in that session whose contents and the reintroduction of them (by me reading them again - and out loud) caused me to feel dejected by the time I had made it out to my car - it got worse as the night went - probably since after going home and changing I immediately headed to work. As a consequence of never being able to just unwind (and other things), this morning was not a good one... Resulting in me doing something that could have turned out really horridly.

What set this off? 

Fear.

In particular feelings that I've left unacknowledged... because they seem foreign and scary, that according to the show My Name is Earl, could use a hug.. or maybe just acceptance or validation

You're probably wondering what this has to do with my father - the past few paragraphs seeming quite dis-contiguous. Well, the text message contents reminded me of a few of the secrets I share with my father. There are all these realities based on these two topics, realities that have resulted in fears. Fears which sometimes become consuming and lead to maladaptive coping skills (whoa - IOP flashback). 

So what's the solution here? Something that I'm afraid of...  addressing those aforementioned feelings that are behind the fear. I can say with certainty that the solution is certainly not not scheduling an appointment for this coming week... which I must rather sheepishly admit was my gut reaction.. rather facing the fear.  Even if that means getting uncomfortable...

While I don't know if I can figure out that appointment situation, I do know that I am going to try to get the day off from work for my next session so that I have time to walk or do something centering afterward instead of rushing off to the next task at hand. I'm also truly going to try to be more open to talking about things. Try. Not just this, but also something else that scares me... a three letter acronym for a treatment method that starts with a D - I'm sure a lot of you can guess it. Why? Because it's important for me to acknowledge that uncomfortableness is a temporary feeling and that by chance the results will be worth it. Accomplishments usually don't happen by always staying within your comfort zones, right? Here's to hugging feelings... and maybe ourselves.

p.s. what are your goals for this new week?

Changes

Hello again! Ashley here. I'm going to do an update for now, as the class I started on Tuesday left me much busier than I thought I would be--yay for reading psychology journal articles! But seriously ;)

I've been gone for the last 2 months or so, and Kat very kindly took over my Thursday post for me. I've appreciated it so much, and I've appreciated that she's left my day for me to regain with my return. Wow--the blog almost has 100 posts, and 37? or so followers! How it has grown...

So.

Over the last few months, I've traveled to New York, Indiana, Michigan, Missouri (!), California, and next week I will be leaving for Arizona.

I was in a break up of a 2.5 yr relationship, made some messes, did something with someone I barely knew, dated someone else, had a crush on even someone else, only to find out that the only things I really wanted were within the person I had left . Fortunately, I've had (and am having) a second chance at that relationship with him, but that's not to say it will fix itself. Effort is being put in on both sides to see if we can create something much better and bolder; we'll see how it turns out in the end.

I was in a frightening car wreck in which my left (driver) window was blown out across the front of the car; I was rammed into by a truck who hit me when I was making a legal and otherwise safe left turn (hit me from behind/side). Afterwards, I had to come to terms with having had accepted my own death for those few moments in which my car went flying.

And I had some other personal events that occured but involved friends (both involving me and their own issues) that are rather of a private nature.

In these last few months, life has done everything to say, you can run, you can hide, you can stay inside, but you have to face me. I've been trying, really.

In lieu of being perfect, I received my first B in college. I took pride in that I was able to accept it for what it was--a result of the extreme circumstances I went through over this semester, and by no means any assault on my intelligence.

And you know what? I have felt stressed, scared, anxious, frightened, livid, bottomless, shallow, eager, joyful, tentative, nervous, elated, tired, angry, flustered, ignored, alone, closeness, honored, dishonored--and so much more.

What an eventful year so far. And all because I took the initiative to do things I want to do, talk to people whom I find interesting, and to feel the feelings that have been waiting to be felt all along.

And wouldn't you think it was funny--it was a book that started this all. But that's a story for another time.

Take care, all--and I'll see ya round once I'm in Arizona.

Ashley

A Challenge... of the "me first" variety

(photo credit to: amazon)

I think this week I learned a lesson on life that has been long in the making... a lesson that has left me solidified that time for myself (or myself in general) should be prioritized.

I have this perpetual fear of being viewed as lazy. So I try as hard as I can to be in constant motion. Literally from 7am (sometimes 8am) until about 1am - 2am I am doing something that is non-negotiable. I do try to squeeze an hour power nap in there, but most of my day is spent driving, at school, at work (on my feet), or doing work that resulted from one of the aforementioned things. I try to start my morning with a half hour walk, but lately that's not even been happening.

I should note that I am not doing it for financial reasons, it is purely out of this drive to be constantly going.  Bottom line? This is NOT healthy, especially since it means I work every day of the week.

I was planning on going into work earlier this week and telling them that I needed one day off each week, however, the same day I was set to do that, I spoke to my father on the 15 minute break we take during my Gender Across Culture class -- he told me that that's what it means to be an adult. Making sacrifices, sucking it up, and moving on. You're capable of doing it, so do it. I thought about it... and he was right that I am capable of doing it... I did it in high school (perhaps to a larger degree in fact), so I can do it now...

I didn't broach the topic at work.

But after I emailed my therapist to indefinitely cancel my appointments (I won't even have that nap-time option available to me come June 16th due to an additional three hours of class each day) it dawned on me that what my father told me could very well be wrong.

Being an adult does not mean making sacrifices and sucking it up, though it can involve those things... It does however mean taking care of yourself - be it by yourself or through knowing when to ask for help when you need it (and of course consequently asking for it). Just because you are capable of doing it, doesn't mean you should either. I was capable of doing a similar thing in high school, but should I have? Absolutely not. I wound up taking the living out of my life. That's not okay.

I'm not saying parents are wrong, I am however saying that parents, like anyone else, make mistakes. Like yourself,  they weren't given a manual of life. They don't know everything... they know what they think worked for them. There's the thing though. You are not your parent or guardian. You are, well, you're you.

Just as you are you. I am myself.. and I am my own expert. If my body is telling me something needs to give, I shouldn't allow my mind to be persuaded that I am wrong. That my body is wrong. My body knows what it needs and since it is my body and I am listening to it (truly listening to it) it can be ascertained that it is correct. And it is correct that I need a break... and no that does not mean I am lazy, it means I'm not a superhero.. that I am human. and that is okay.

As a challenge to myself, until I can straighten out this work situation,  I am going to try to incorporate "me" time into my weekly routine on the days I do have some spare time in the morning - those days where I don't have school in the morning, rather just work at night.

I am going to finally finish that green canopy I've been working on off and on. I'm going to take nice rambling walks. I'm going to relax and sit with myself.

I'm going to take a detour from my planned course and put myself first.


as a challenge to yourself, what can you do for yourself this week or each day? How can you make time for you?

(I credit the term "me first" to Kendra from Voice in Recovery)


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to continue my random self-discovery q/a :

A picture of my night:

 My Thursday night was spent at Anthropologie working. The above was our last window display -- it's a dress made of paper and dropcloth and of course thousands of clothespins that were individually placed/positioned on molded chicken wire -- the clothespin part has since migrated to the board you see behind the cash/wrap. They're in the process of taking the current one down (a wall made entirely of wine corks as part of the "Anthropologie Goes Green" theme), otherwise I would've put up a pic of that

the "a" word -- anger -- {{ self discovery word by word }}

 (image credit: Ashley from NTS)

I know.. I know... I reference Ashley's blog.... Nourishing the Soul... a lot. today is no exception. She started the Self-Discovery Word by Word series where each month a word is chosen to write about... (this month it's hosted by Big Girl Bombshell) I've never participated, telling myself various reasons why not to... however, this month a word popped up that left me feeling unsettled... what was this month's word?

anger.


This word came up this last week during my weekly Laura (which was last Wednesday) and also appeared quite a few times when I was in IOP.

It's a word that scares me. Something about the shape those five letters can take when personified.

When I was a kid, I saw anger. true anger.. and frequently. I'm not saying I never saw love, but I am saying that I saw, heard, and dreamt about what I still believe was an extremely raw form of haunting anger.

Some of those things still scare me and thus I say that anger does.

I was in IOP this time last year (I cannot wait until that phrase will no longer be able to escape my lips... or pass through my fingers via the keys they touch) and Cathy (an amazing art therapist) led us outside with a scale to bash. There were only three of us at this point and outside we went into the back parking lot, laughing along the way at one of the girls' habit of coughing every time she sees a smoker - that walk being no exception as we passed a group taking long drags in the cool summer breeze.


We got out there and the other two started taking the turns with the hammer Cathy brought... I wound up only being able to watch from a distance - standing on the curb near the grass in my dress... the whole situation scaring me and making me feel extremely unsettled. Just watching the others take hammers to these scales I almost started crying, resorting to hugging myself to prevent it... the anger was just so visible. Cathy wouldn't let us go back inside until I had hit the scale with a hammer, but I could barely muster tapping the already broken scale - but I needed us to go back inside the building. Inside where people were more composed. Where things felt more in control. Cathy didn't press the issue further after my love tap to the scale so inside we went again, thankfully

It wasn't the way they were acting outside that had scared me, it was the realization that no one that spirals out of control in rage, starts their rage out of control. It's a seamless transition... one I've witnessed too many times. Recently I felt incredibly hurt by some things... intense emotions... I became so fearful I would act out in anger or mixed emotions and hurt people (emotionally) that I apologized and then isolated myself from them... The whole thing terrifying and upsetting me in multiple ways... fearful that I was dangerously close to trespassing into the land of rage.

Through the years I've held in emotions, even in places I feel secure such as Laura's office, but no emotion have I held in to the degree that I have anger - to the point of mellowing it out so that I honestly don't know if I am experiencing it or anything... only a brief thought that maybe I should be angry.

I've cried and shown up in her office in a daze... but I've never let myself be angry. Truly angry. I've always said there was no point in it. The closest I've come is being pissed off (which as those that know me in real life... takes a lot -- or for me to feel extremely hurt/injured by people on an emotional level as I mentioned earlier)... I'm terrified of hurting others with that anger... I hate hurting people in general, which is another reason why I can and often do abruptly withdraw or shut off after experiencing high intense emotions.

I've held the fear (odd side fact: they say that fear and anger are inversely related) of getting too angry dear for quite some time. Curled up with it. I think the wall I've built with it is finally starting to crumble though.

Reading several case studies has taught me that this is quite a common reality for those with eating disorders, this "thwarted anger" -- with cutting, purging, starving, and other behaviors being ways of getting rid of that anger.

I think becoming more secure with yourself grants you some greater ability to validate your own emotions. To be able to sit with them, because they are yours... and feelings aren't right or wrong, they just are (or so someone I know once told me) - telling yourself that you're not angry, that you're not sad, that you're not anything is invalidating yourself... and you're worth more than that.


what do you do to sit with your emotions in a healthy way? or what can you choose to do?

 day 3: Favorite television show? My So-Called Life... closely followed by Little House on the Prairie (yes, Melissa Gilbert dressed in Calico running down a field Little House on the Prairie). Oh recent you say? Well, I don't have cable.. and have yet to really turn on my television (except for the second or third day in my apartment to watch Breakfast at Tiffany's) so all the tv shows I watch, I watch via Netflix... and I'm going to say In Treatment or Project Runway when it's in season...

The Obesity/Emaciation Connection

I believe that behind both the person who weighs 400 pounds and the one who weighs 85 there is a lot of baggage, and it has nothing to do with their bodies.  - Kirstie Alley

I thought I posted this last night, but alas I find myself typing it again.

Not too terribly long ago I saw the first episode of Oprah's Addicted to Food and while I'm waiting to see a few more episodes before I form an opinion it did leave me thinking.... which is always a good thing. Even more recently I was over at Nourishing The Soul and was reading Ashley's post questioning do fat memories ever fade. Together the two of those things left me wondering a multitude of things... about anecdotes involving friends on the internet, about whether or not having cameras around would be good for treatment (though undoubtedly I imagine having them there outweighs not being in treatment at all), which in turn made me think of prohibitive treatment costs in the United States, and then I also thought of similarities.

What kind of similarities?

The similarities between those that are obese and those that are emaciated.


Aside from the fact that both have been on the rise... both impact millions of people (which right there makes me wonder if there IS a connection)...

If you examine the health effects of both you'll find that they share a lot of the same possible ones (obviously, not everyone that's emaciated or obese will have these, but these are the common ones). Infertility, negative change in blood pressure (extremely low in the emaciated, extremely high in the obese), heart problems, stroke, skin problems, bone problems (recent studies have concluded that obesity is bad for the bones - and osteoporosis for the emaciated), diabetes (type II for the obese, type I for the emaciated), and digestive issues.

The similarities do not end there. Treatment plans for both involve creating a healthy lifestyle and adjusting one's diet. As well as trying to pinpoint a cause for turning food into a weapon used against oneself.

Clothes shopping can be difficult for either party, not having any cute options, or having to find clothing in the children's department.

Having a stigma attached when going out in public is also present in both -- be it laziness that is often associated with the overweight... enough to make anyone self conscious of eating in public or going to a gym; or having people think you have an eating disorder or are "sick" if you're emaciated -- also complicating eating in public and going to the gym.

With all of these similarities why is the plan of attack so different for both?
While there is currently progress being made on banning emaciated models, that's about the extent of action being taken against those that are emaciated.

I worded it that way for a reason... because actions are currently being taken against the obese. If you haven't seen the childhood obesity ads from Georgia:

(photo credit to Huffington Post)

It's clear that there is a war being waged on the obese. Not only with advertisements, but also with taxes (taxation for products including fructose have been proposed as a means of countering obesity) ... extra costs for riding on airplanes... television shows such as The Biggest Loser... and whole campaigns targeted directly at them such as the one above. None of them, however, offering up proposals that deal with nutrition or developing healthy relationships with food.

I cannot imagine what it would be like to be one of the children featured in that ad. A walking example of something Georgia is telling their children they should not be. They're becoming a target for a nearly encouraged barrage of disdain since obesity intolerance is fairly socially acceptable.

Yes, I agree that obesity is not healthy, but I'm pretty sure we all knew that anyway.. before we decided that it was okay to label pictures of kids with a "warning"

I honestly wonder what would happen if we handled this with compassion or education instead of aggression and seemingly hate filled campaigns. I imagine quite a few obese individuals have eating disorders... In various forms such as bulimia, binge eating disorder, compulsive over eating, and ED-NOS (I think we forget anorexia and bulimia are not the only disorders out there and that anorectics don't become emaciated overnight). We should be tackling the question WHY?? instead of tackling the person.. or the food... Neither are the problem. While we're at it, we could be tackling the eating disorder crisis as well as the "obesity crisis" (as they may very well be one in the same) in this very same COMPASSIONATE way.

Just my thoughts... what are yours?

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DAY 02 - A picture of you and the person you have been closest with the longest
I don't have a picture, but definitely dear Dani.

lessons from childhood (and dr seuss)

When I was younger...

i believed my father was a superhero

i believed it when i was told i could be anything i wanted to be.

i tried anything despite not being qualified - that word had no meaning to me. if i tried something and failed it just meant i would get to try it again.

i was fearless -- we're talking roller skating down a hill that could rival some of those in San Fran

i didn't think about my body in any way other than that it was what let me do cool things

fear foods were foods that looked gray and splumped onto the cafeteria tray

i thought my mother was beautiful not in spite of her differences, but because her differences were what made her my mom

i knew the power of friendship and trusted it wholly

weight was wait -- and its only association was when you had to wait your turn

i believed in sharing and caring

all of life's problems could be solved by reading a Sweet Valley book

rainbow brite protected me in my sleep in the form of a blanket and when i was scared helped me feel secure by being wrapped tightly around me

feelings weren't right or wrong - i just felt and it was okay to do so

i would get excited to hear the ice cream truck

i was addicted to the game candyland and the idea of that forever happy place that existed even if my house was not happy -- it gave me a sense that there was someplace happy in the world- someplace good where people were truly good - i consequently felt that hope could be found in a board game --- or in anything

dr. seuss taught me that "unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing's going to get better it's not,"  that I would succeed (98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.), and that “sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple" which would help me ask the right questions to get to the honest answer.

the world was my playground and it was my job to explore it - finding things other people were too busy to see and overlooked- "You’ll miss the best things if you keep your eyes shut."

i neglected grammar and believed putting a heart next to my name made any apology letter better

i thought that hugging was giving another person a piece of you -- the harder you hugged the more you loved them

i listened to my body cues. when i was hungry i ate. when i was tired i slept.

i knew that exercise was meant to be fun

i believed wishes were magic and that it was possible for dandelion seeds to carry dreams and wishes away

i believed that dandelions were flowers too

i got excited at the simple things like discovering the goldfish cracker character has a name (it's finn and his girlfriend is Brooke --- oh wait, that may have been my adult self...)

i was mindful -- very much aware of that moment in time. if i was there with you - i was there with you rather than thinking of something else. if i were playing soccer, i was focusing on that.

i dreamed of the day when i could grow up and eat dessert every night like my father who would have a pb&j sandwich and a bowl of ice cream every night before bed, but after doing a couple of sets of one armed push ups.

i believed in promises and trusted people

my dinner plate was colorful... and i ate bread which obviously didn't kill me

and probably most importantly... i loved myself... i didn't know how not to

oh what my younger self could teach me...

what could your younger self teach you??

p.s... major hugs and well wishes to Ashley (she knows why)