Mantra for the Morning

Morning reminder:

No bones look as good as energy feels.

Friends

I have amazing friends.  I really felt loved tonight, and my only regret is that there is no way I'll ever be able to communicate to them how much I needed that.

Positive Padding

Now that hot weather us upon us again, there is one aspect of my added poundage for which I am actually thankful.  In the past, I have been extremely, extremely self conscious about having thick, ropy veins visible on my arms and legs when I got overheated.  The webby patterned skin may have worked for Spiderman, but for mere mortals, it's just not nice looking.

 It was also always a dead give away, when I lived at home, that I had been exercising in my room.  If my mom knocked on the door to see what I was doing, I could act nonchalant, but she knew to check my forearms to see how visible the veins were. Vasodilation ratted me out every time.

Having added muscle, and yes, fat, does make for much more aesthetically pleasing limbs when it comes to hiding those veins (I mean, obviously you can see healthy people's veins sometimes, but the sticky-outy-ness is diminished), so that is my positive body thought for the day.

I am afraid people are going to come back from the weekend and see this barrage of posts by me and think, well, I don't know, insert negative thought here.  Now that the semester is winding up, and my life is about to go down a whole new road, I guess I have just been in a contemplative mood.

No More Plan B

I'm looking forward to my graduation, but one thing is looming like a cloud guaranteed to rain on my parade: photographs.  There are going to be cameras, camcorders, and required photos everywhere.  It will also be the most complete family reunion we've had in a long time, and I want to remember myself with these people.  I wish I could document it without actually having to save images of myself.

I have never, never been comfortable with my appearance.  This came way before the weight issues. I could/can list a zillion things wrong with my nose, eyes, skin, teeth, you name it and I hate it. I have always been too wrapped up in other things to spend a ton of time on vanity (I am very low-maintenance), but it's always just been a fact of life that I will be displeased when I look in the mirror.  In that I know I'm not unique among young women, or any women, or most people in our culture/society.

H. and I have been talking about the fact that one of the many facets of the development of my ED was to use thinness as a proxy for beauty.  In a nutshell, the reasoning has always been "If I can't be pretty, at least I'll be skinny."

So that has been the Plan B ever since I was 13.  And now I am 1) facing the fact that my body is moving closer and closer to my normal weight range, meaning I can't count on having "skinny" as a fallback, and 2) realizing that I just can't afford to be feeble, not with everything coming up for me in the near future.

Thus, Plan B must die a much-deserved death.  

But even a misguided path gives you a direction, and now I am feeling a little lost.  Unconfident and very self-conscious and negative and desirous of a rock to crawl under, to spare both myself and the public.

Anorexia Athletica vs Exercise Bulimia?

I truly like H., and connect with her extremely well.  I would not be where I am today without her, of that I am sure.  But there is one thing she does that really irks me, that we absolutely can't agree on. 

 She refers to my compulsive exercise as "purging."  This never fails to irritate the hell out of me.  

My rationalization that my exercise is not purging:

A) I do not binge.  I can literally count on one hand the amount of times I have had out-of-control eating experiences in my nine year journey through anorexia.  

B)Exercise doesn't increase if I eat more, because I never eat more than my meal plan, I have a hard enough time just accomplishing my baseline every day.

C) I still exercise even when I've eaten significantly less than I should have, or nothing at all, and thus can't be purging what is not in my system.

D) The exercise increases when I'm stressed, showing that if it is purging anything it is anxiety, not food.

E) The main thing, which I hope makes sense: I don't work out because I ate X, I eat X so that I can make it through my workout.  

H's counter evidence:

1) If I can't exercise, I dramatically cut my calories, way beyond what is necessary to compensate for inactivity.  Therefore the purpose of the exercise must be to get rid of calories.

2)Getting rid of calories  =  purging.

I can see her point, but I still don't agree with her.  She says it is because I am an intensely controlled person, and I have an aversion to the term "purging" because I associate it with making up for a lapse in control.  On this, she is probably right.  OK, definitely right.  I do have an aversion to the term, but I also feel like it's an inaccurate term in my case.  

I could bicker about this all day, and expect/hope that at some point in my future I will look back and realize how stubborn I am being.  But the main point of this post is that I wanted to move beyond my own case and discuss the broader issue of labels, which I find to be interesting.  I have seen both "exercise bulimia" and "anorexia athletica" referred to in both the popular and medical literature.  To me, it seems like EB is over-exercising following a binge, whereas AA is just compulsive exercise as part of a more rigid, obsessional routine. It is more about the ritual and less about the penance. But I am honestly not that familiar with the role that exercise tends to play in "regular" BN (I cringe at using that term, but you know what I mean...), so maybe I am mischaracterizing it?  Thoughts? 

 Honestly I think this whole issue just highlights the fact that there are no cookie-cutter ED cases, and that in reality distorted behaviors (and thoughts) exist along a spectrum, as opposed to discrete categories.  Some AN sufferers restrict severely and never work out, others let the exercise increase to the degree that they stay emaciated even while eating roughly as much as an "average" person (cringe again).  Most are somewhere in the middle, and many people move up and down the spectrum during the course of their disorder.  For me personally, since I've been in college the restriction-exercise balance has shifted significantly from what it was in middle/high school, not quite 180-degrees, maybe around 120. 

So, those are my thoughts, what are yours?  Discussion?

Exercise Thoughts D'jour

As I've mentioned before, exercise is one area in which I have made almost no progress so far in my recovery.  I know at some level that the amount of time I spend working out is insane, but I don't remember living any other way.  This is my modus operandi; I don't decide to do it, it's just default.  That same old argument.

H. is trying to convince me that cutting the exercise won't make me balloon.  I find this unfathomable.  Even with the exercise, I've still gained weight from upping my meal plan over the past year, with some plateaus but a definite upward trend.  I'm still not within my normal BMI range, but I'm inching in that direction.  Progress with eating makes it even harder to curb the exercise, because 1) gaining weight causes anxiety, which is vented through workouts and 2) I have more energy now that I'm not restricting.  My logical, quantitative brain refuses to accept that I can cut out a significant amount of exercise, in other words to stop burning as many calories, and yet still not become overweight.  I'm fattening up even with the workouts!  Numbers, numbers numbers.  I've gained weight at exactly the rate all the textbooks predict, according to the increase in my calories, during the times I've been consistent with the meal plan.  But what happens when I decrease the calories out on top of that?  Simple math . . . It makes me want to cling to exercise more tightly than ever.

I hope none of that was triggering (I always worry about that), I want to make clear that that is what my ED is constantly screaming in my ear.  H., however, who is a Smart Lady, has been treating EDs for decades, and has yet to steer me wrong, is insisting that cutting the exercise won't make me gain excessive weight.  The body doesn't read the textbooks, doesn't do math, and doesn't always work in a linear fashion.  The calories-in vs calories-out model is appropriate for some things, but doesn't take into account the way our metabolisms adjust their rates according to the care (or lack thereof) that we give our bodies.

H's argument: the constant exercise is teaching my body that it needs to hang onto all the energy it can, because it is going to need every scrap of it to sustain through the workouts.  Once I've established a healthier activity pattern, my metabolism will normalize and won't "want" to store every calorie. 

This makes sense, and is also ironic.  The whole reason the exercise compulsion developed within my AN journey was because I saw it as a way to keep my metabolism from coming to a complete standstill during restriction.  I figured a few workouts a day were a sure way to keep my system revved up, and then it kind of took on a life of its own and is now the dominant force in my ED.  Apparently, though, the metabolic benefits of working out can reach a point of diminishing returns, shifting into the realm of counterproductivity. 

I'm trying to convince myself of this.  I know that it makes sense, and that both H. and my nutritionist should know what they're talking about.  It's just so hard to put into practice.  I'll be moving this summer, and will have the chance to set up a new routine, this is a chance to force myself to take a leap.  Plus, it's not like cutting the workouts means I'm going to sit like a lump on the couch all day, it will just give me time to do "real life" activities that I miss out on during all my hours spent on the bike, with the aerobics DVD, etc.  

I don't have a very profound conclusion for this post, mostly just the musings of the day.

Thank You, Ms. Johansson

While I am usually slightly scornful of celebrity op-eds (what, just because you have tons of money we should buy into your opinions on economics, politics, etc etc?), but this one is a winner, and from it comes the quote of the day, although I do recommend reading the whole thing. She even directs people to the NEDA website.  Thoughts, comments?

I'm a petite person to begin with, so the idea of my losing this amount of weight is utter lunacy. If I were to lose 14 pounds, I'd have to part with both arms. And a foot. I'm frustrated with the irresponsibility of tabloid media who sell the public ideas about what we should look like and how we should get there.

~Scarlett Johansson

(And yes, I just realized the irony of choosing this particular quote after the topic of last night's post, if there is any correlation it was entirely subconscious).

In Which I am Reminded of My Ingratitude

There was a veteran's health awareness booth on the campus concourse today.  One of the guys behind the table had been in a vehicle bombing in Iraq.  He is 24 years old, painfully handsome and outgoing, and has had every one of his limbs amputated.  Every single one.  Both legs above the knees, one arm above the elbow, one arm just below the elbow.  

And just one hour before I walked by him, I had been close to tears over the imaginary fat rolls on my intact and completely functional body.  The amount of time and energy I spend stressing out over a body that is actually pretty perfect--as far as physiological processes, mobility, and other things that contribute to enjoyment of freedom and independence--should be criminal.  I felt truly ashamed when I walked past that guy in his wheelchair, knowing that I had been stressing out about my thighs moving with each step while he was coming to terms with the fact that he would never even take another step.

Yes, objectively I know that AN is a mental illness that runs strongly in my family, and thus I shouldn't blame myself for it, but I still felt like the biggest ditz in the world after that poignant dose of reality.  Nothing like a little perspective.

Tensies

I rarely do memes, but I my anthropology term paper is due tomorrow, still 7 pages to write, so it's the perfect time for marathon blogging.  I got this from Lisa and Brie.

1. What is the one thing you want to learn to make before you die?

My mom can tie a knot in a cherry stem with her tongue, and I could do it as a kid but have lost the skill in my old age.  I would be a much more fulfilled person if I could redevelop that talent.

2. What is the one thing you avoid doing to avoid humiliation?

Singing!  I love, love, love to sing, but I could not carry a tune if it physically crawled down my throat and colonized my larynx.  Singing is for showers and cars, but never in front of any other sentient being except G.  As a kid I read that mouthing the words "watermelon cantaloupe, watermelon cantaloupe" will make you look like you're singing along with pretty much any song, so that's what I did every Sunday at Mass the entire time I was growing up.

3. If money weren't an issue, what is the first thing you would buy?

Plane tickets.  I would travel.  Everywhere.  I don't need a big house, or a nice car, I just want to see the world.  The only "stuff" I would buy is books, books, books.  

4.  What is one of your favorite blog posts that you've written?

It's hard to choose between this one and this one . . . can't decide.  This one was not originally written as a blog post, it was an essay I wrote in the 11th grade, but it's also a contender.

5. Would you rather have a personal chef or a personal trainer?

The responsible answer would be the trainer, because compulsive exercise is still a huge struggle for me.  Having someone standing over me telling me exactly what I "should" be doing and when I was going over the line would probably be a big benefit.  I can talk about setting limits with H., my nutritionist, my physician, etc, but it's not quite the same as having someone there keeping an eye on you and catching you when things start to get out of control.

That's what I should have, but I agree with Lisa and Brie, having someone to clean up after me would be the preferred alternative.  G. sheds like a hairy demon, I can never keep up with the hair.  Also, I am terrible about washing dishes and putting away laundry.  Both are futile.  Really, I'm just going to wear the jeans again in a  couple of days, I'm going to use the same coffee cup tomorrow, why go through the cleansing ritual.  I'm just going to boil water in it, that will kill all the germs, right?

6. What's a weird quirk you have?

I could list tons of food quirks, but I'll choose not to.  Hmmm . . . in the winter, I wear a toboggan to bed.  I wear Christmas-themed underwear all year round.  I go through phases where I chose to sleep on the couch rather than my bed.  I always wear two pairs of socks.  I could literally fill a book with all of my quirks, so I'll just cut the list off here . . .

7.  If you could invent any kind of animal, what would it be?

I'm a scientist, so I would love to cook up some awesome badass species with all the coolest features that are ecologically and morphologically feasible . . . but climate change would probably extinct them before long, and most of all I just want to make a G. that lives forever and ever.

8. What would you like now, at this very moment?

To hear back from an important person about important details that are crucial for my grad school admission process.

9.  What was the first movie that ever made you cry?

I have no idea what the very first one was.  I am not a crier, traditionally, and I don't watch many movies.  I thought it was funny that Lisa mentioned "Pocahontas" in her post, because that is the ONLY Disney movie that has ever brought me to tears.  Also, "Beaches" made me cry, because I'm really close to my mom and can't imagine what would be worse than having something bad happen to your mother.  Oh oh oh, "Crash," I love that movie, and the scene where the guy shoots at the little girl brought made me cry.

10. What are a few of your greatest fears?  Have they ever happened to you?

-Losing a family member.

-Losing a family member if our last interaction was negative.  When I was in high school a girl I knew died in a car crash, and I lost so much sleep because I couldn't remember if I'd said hi to her the last time I saw her in the hall at school, or if I hadn't bothered.  I always make sure the LAST thing I say to any family member before I hang up the phone with them is to tell them I love them.

-Getting burned.  When I was about 8 I got a severe burn on my hand, and ever since then I am ultra-paranoid.  Not necessarily about fire itself, just about anything that could potentially burn me.

-Being in water where I can't see the bottom.  

-Disappointing other people.

-Living a life that makes no impact.

Ok, I'm shy about tagging, but feel free to join my Procrastination Party and take the meme to your blog!

I'll Thank Me Later

This quote from TIME Magazine sums up the way I feel about recovery right now:

Sometimes we change because we want to: lose weight,* go vegan, find God, get sober.  But sometimes we change because we have no choice, and since this violates our manifest destiny to do as we please, it may take a while before we notice that those are often the changes we need to make most.

Right now I am really uncomfortable with my weight, feel guilty about the amount of food on my plan, etc etc, but I have way too much on the line to go backwards.  I'm held hostage by my own future, I guess you could say?  I know my knee-jerk reaction to just slip back into ED ways will compromise way too many things.  I have to be healthy whether I like it or not, because I am way too passionate about what I do to let this stupid disease steal the next decade like it has the past one.  So there.  Do I feel good about everything?  No, not really.  Would sliding back into destructive mode simplify things?  No, although sometimes it's tempting to believe that.  Can I be certain I'll be happy in the end? No, but I am certain the alternative won't make me any happier, so I guess there's not much to lose. . .

*Yes, the author assumes everyone should want to lose weight, welcome to today's culture.

Touched by a Moron

At the awards event I attended earlier this week, I had a definite encounter with someone who has, as Lisa oh so eloquently put it, "a touch of the moron."

My mom flew down to attend the event, which involved a luncheon at the university convention center.  My mom is very careful about her diet, and is currently training for a 10k race, so she is at the lowest end of her weight range that can be considered healthy (discussion on that is a post for another day).  She still, thank goodness, lets herself indulge in things she loves, so she had a slice of the cheesecake that was served to follow up the lunch.  Yay momma, setting a good example for me.

So after the lunch, when people were mingling and congratulating and whatnot, this woman I don't even know came up to me, squeezed my arm, and said "It's great your mom could come.  And we can see from her that you're not going to get too fat on us!"

Great, I'm being recognized for academic accomplishments, research, leadership roles, etc, and you're bubbly about the fact that it looks like my genes are going to help prevent me from becoming "too" fat at some indeterminate point in the future.  Consider my validation bubble effectively imploded.

Anyone taking bets on whether she would have said that if I were a male?.  

On the bright side, at least I get to use the catch-phrase, thanks again Lisa for articulating what I have so often felt!

Big Deep Breath.

So, I made my decision.  I know some people aren't going to be happy with me, but I also know that this is what will be best for me.  I turned my brain inside out over it, but deep down this is really what resonates with me. Big deep breath.

Ok, off to pack for a beach biology weekend.

Default Weapon

When I was in high school, I had a friend that cut.  I understood that for her it served a similar function to my anorexia, just a manifestation of a lot of things that she couldn't figure out how to express any other way.  I understood that, but I never understood how hurting herself like that was supposed to make things better.  Just as she seemed to understand my ED was a real problem without understanding how starving myself was supposed to make things better. I have never felt that my ED was the result of an intentional, overt way to harm myself, it's been more of a passive aggressive punishment combined with misguided attempt at self-protection, build the bony prison and you've always got a secure hiding place, right?

Over the past few days, I think I have started to understand that desire to just make yourself hurt, for the sole purpose of making all other feeling go away, and it's kind of scaring me. 

Basically, I am in the process of making the hardest decision I've ever made in my life, and am in a very difficult position.  No matter what I do, I will have regrets, it will be awkward, and someone important will be pissed at me.  I have barely been sleeping, my anxiety has been through the roof, and I've had a constant throbbing headache and queasy stomach, and general sense of ohmygodtheskyisfalling. None of which is doing much to improve my rational decision-making skills. I. hate. this.  And I have to admit, I've really just wanted to hurt, out of frustration, and out of desperation to over-ride everything else going on in my head.

I don't want to freak anyone out, don't worry, I'm not implying that I'm about to do something crazy.  There is a difference between eyeing a ledge and jumping from it. But I'll be honest, right now physical pain is a welcome diversion from what's going on in my head.  I think I understand my friend from high school better than I ever have before.

I am nothing if not a creature of habit, though, so instead of seeking novel weapons against myself it is much more efficient to just use the old familiar ones.  My ultra-stress has killed my appetite anyway, why cram unwanted food into myself?  Whenever I'm stressed, I tend to fall into restriction as default mode.  Gnawing hunger, becoming painful hunger, becoming cavernous emptiness, is actually really soothing right now.  I did miles and miles on the bike today, G. and I walked a double route, bought a brand new aerobics DVD after I thought I'd truly go insane if I did the old one a single additional time.  None of this is even consciously about my weight/size, for once, it's just about dulling everything else.  

I just want this to be over.  The decision, I mean.  And the other stuff too, obviously.  I just don't know what to do.  I'm emotionally, intellectually, physically drained.  I know this is wrong.  I can't continue at this rate of punishment for much longer, not if I want to retain any semblance of functionality, and then I'm stuck with my thoughts/feelings again.  J. came over for our Alternative Easter this afternoon, and that distraction was a huge help, but the effect faded soon after he left.

I think it is probably a very, very good thing that my mom is flying in again this week for another round of awards events.  I just want this process to be over.

Roller Coaster Day

First of all, I can't thank y'all enough for all of the supportive comments, etc., after my mini-meltdown yesterday.  I am continually amazed at the insightful, thoughtful, wise, intelligent, and all-around wonderful people I have had the privilege to meet through this blogging community.  You are awesome, and I appreciate you more than I can articulate.

Today was a roller coaster.  I was still feeling pretty down from yesterday when I woke up this morning, but then I got great news about grad school (up).  Then I had to think about some very tough choices for the next step of my career (down).  Then I had coffee with a good friend, took my mind off everything else (up).  Then a frustrating conversation with an adviser in which I felt misunderstood and patronized (down). After that, more thinking about my hard decision, ultra-frustration because it seems that no matter what I do, somebody is going to be disappointed (way down).

Then, a new idea for a creative solution to the decision problem (way up).  Now, anxiety that I will be the only one that thinks it's a good idea (eeeek).  

At least today's roller coaster functioned to mostly keep my mind off of my body.  I was so high anxiety that I truly had no appetite all day, but I ate what I knew I had to.  And called J. to apologize for yesterday and make plans for Easter together.  It's hard to believe that in two months we'll be in separate far-flung parts of the country . . . just so many changes coming up.  

Anywho, this is probably the most mundane and boring post I've ever written, I can't go into much detail about the news, etc. for the sake of anonymity, but the day was pretty exciting/exhausting in "real life."  Thanks again to everyone, I hope all of you have a fantabulous holiday weekend, take care!

Tired Day

Background information: when he is pleased/happy, J. has this spine-melting habit of smiling first with his eyes, this distinctive, sparkly crinkling maneuver, and then letting the smile gradually spread to his mouth, the entire procedure is frustratingly sexy.

So, we had a Big Event for graduating seniors on campus today, which involved dressing up, etc.  I have been in a state of high anxiety for various reasons this week, and so getting ready for this event was sort of the straw that broke the Cammy's back. (hyuk hyuk...humor my humor, it's been a long day).

The afternoon went something like this:

-I had planned a cute outfit, then tried it on and realized the contours of my monster of a post-lunch stomach show way too much, had to find an alternate ensemble.  Try to convince myself I'm the only one who Notices the belly, but still wonder if people will wonder whether I'm pregnant or not.

-A whirlwind through the closet yields a variety of other alternatives, all of which are tried on and almost all of which elicit the same feeling of despair and disgust at how a nice outfit can become so hideous once it is put onto this body.  Try to convince myself I'm the only one who Notices.

-Finally it gets so late that I have to pick the least of all evils and get out the door.  Am ultra aware of how huge I look all the way to campus, every time I catch a glimpse of myself while passing a window, my self esteem plunges a few more notches.  Try to convince myself no one else will Notice.

-Enter auditorium.  Still a few minutes before we have to sit down, people are standing around mingling. 

-Spot J., start to head towards him.

-J looks me up, looks me down, and does that damn smiling thing (see background info above) that should have put me on Cloud 9.

-Instead, my only reaction is to realize that yes, someone did Notice, and I burst into tears.

Why do I fail at every opportunity to function like a human being?

I am feeling really low tonight.  I'm just so tired, of everything.  I am extremely, extremely uncomfortable at my weight right now, but I'm only to the halfway point for what I'm "supposed" to gain.  I hate how I look, I hate how soft I feel, I hate the fact that I feel so worn out even though I know, know, know I have more energy reserves packed into this body than at almost any other time in my life.  I'm tired of day after day of following a mealplan while still not feeling free from the ED behaviors and thoughts.   I'm tired of having to be ultra careful with my chewing, because years of malnutrition are resulting in rapid evaporation of the enamel on my teeth.  I'm tired of my walking routes.  I'm tired of not knowing where I will be in 2 months, six months, a year.  I'm tired of waiting until after I shower to put my contacts in, so I can't catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I step out, because I just can't face my body right now.  I'm tired of taking food and health for granted when so many other people in the world would feel rich to have access to even a fraction of the food that I've got in my kitchen. 

 I'm tired of this hamster wheel that has become my life.

Most of all, I'm tired of not being able to envision living any other way.

Baby Duck

I've been busy over the past week, so I still haven't updated about my mom's visit.  She was supposed to get here Thursday night, but her flight was delayed and she didn't make it in until Friday morning.  Despite that wrinkle, we had a fantastic time! The purpose of her trip was to attend an awards ceremony that afternoon, and then a dinner at the dean's house that evening.

Eating, etc were pretty awkward when I was home for Christmas break.  My mom is very careful with her diet, and I am very self-conscious about the amount I have to eat for my mealplan.  Thus, eating situations can be stressful...also, I live alone, so when someone else is in "my" space, I get really anxious.  So, I was looking forward to the visit (I truly love my mom dearly, we have a great relationship), but I was also nervous about how all the eating stuff would go.  A couple of years ago she finally decided to lose the "baby weight" that had accumulated after three children, and lost over 40 pounds.  She has stayed around the low end of normal ever since, but I do tend to be a little paranoid that she'll lose too much.  And then, of course, there are my eating issues also.

Luckily, we ate out for almost every meal when she was here.  I'm actually much more comfortable eating out with people than making meals for them at my place.  We had lunch with some of my friends at Mellow Mushroom, and that was OK.  I was worried that my mom didn't eat enough.   Later we went to a dinner at the dean's house, and the type of food (barbecue) was really not stuff that I liked, but I did get a reasonable amount.

This was where my mom really helped me out.  She set a great example of getting food that she loves (in this case it was potato salad) as part of her meal, enough to really enjoy it but not an excessive amount, without letting calorie stress hold her back.  She also got dessert.  This may seem simple and unremarkable, but it was really nice to have this model of healthy behavior to follow. (Ha, some people may not see potato salad and cake as "healthy", but I'm talking psychologically, letting yourself have things you love at an event that is meant to be a celebration).  The next day we went to Moe's for lunch, (Mexican is another of her all-time favorites), and she got a salad but also asked for tortilla chips and made awesome nachoes out of her salad + chips.  All of this is a big contrast to the way she ate when I was home for Christmas.   I don't know if she was consciously making a point to eat liberally in front of me this time around, but it did help.  I would assume that whatever body I eventually obtain as an adult will be similar to hers, and it is nice to see that someone can allow themselves to include and enjoy their favorite foods while still being fit and healthy.

I guess to some degree I will always be a little yellow duck following my momma duck around. I most definitely did not pick up ED behaviors from her (her big diet didn't occur until I'd already been dealing with AN for over five years).  Now that I'm seriously working on recovery, I'm trying to figure out what my "normal" should really be, and even though I am 22, have a fiercely independent personality, and have been living on my own for four years, it seems natural to use my mom as an example to follow.  She has taught me pretty much all of the crucial lessons about life, and since time immemorial I have paid close attention to what she does, learning everything from how to slice apples and tie shoelaces to how to apply mascara and parallel park (not simultaneously!). 

Don't get me wrong, we're not one of these hyper-entangled mother-daughter packages.  We differ in opinon on many things: politics, religion, tea vs coffee, Hugh Grant vs George Clooney, etc (although we agree on Pierce Brosnan, yum!).  But at the same time, we respect each other enough to have really great conversations about the things we disagree about the most.  She has been insightul enough to teach me how to be, not what to be. We have a hard time discussing my ED (even though it is most definitely not a secret), but I found that just being able to observe her being normal and relaxed around food really did wonders for my own outlook and anxiety about eating during her visit.  Actions really do speak louder than words sometimes.

Because I Like Ironic Stickers

This morning there were some people on the concourse collecting donations for the World Food Program, so I decided to be a generous and ironic anorexic and donate my pocket change. The irony was paid forward with dividends, when I received a prize for my contribution....

I have been walking around with a neon "I FED ED THE HUNGER TIGER" sticker on my shirt all morning.

"Ed," in this case, is not an abbreviation for a disease, it's just the random name that the volunteer apparently gave to the tiger-shaped piggy bank she is using to collect donations for the WFP. Still, I found it rather hilarious and just felt like sharing.

Too bad they weren't there yesterday, I could have worn the sticker to my therapy appointment. :P

Body Image Distortion and EDs

Just a short link for this morning, to a post by over at the Frontal Cortex which discusses the role of body image distortion in anorexia.  Lehrer compares disorted body image in anorexia to that of people with image distortion disorders that cause them to view body parts as alien, which sometimes leads to self-amputation.  He also describes the interesting case of an anorexic patient that wore a body suit to help with somatosensory rehabilitation.  (I don't think the study was that strong, though, even though the weight gain was statistically significant it was actually not that much and didn't take her anywhere near to being restored and healthy, and with EDs being so varied I don't think many conclusions can be drawn from a sample size of one).

Anyway, this blogger is not an ED expert, but the case he cites is interesting and the comments (including excellent input from Laura Collins!) on the post are worth reading, I always feel some anthropological intrigue in reading comments on these issues from people who are educated and knowledgeable in general but don't have much experience with EDs.

In Which Seth Rogen Does Not Amuse Me

Mi madre's plane was delayed due to storms, so now I am killing time waiting for the flight to come in.  I have been catching up on my TiVo'd episodes of The Daily Show, and was really disgusted by Tuesday night's interview, in which bulimia is ridiculed and trivialized:

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	M - Th 11p / 10c
Seth Rogen
comedycentral.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Economic Crisis Political Humor

Usually I am a huge fan of Jon Stewart and his show, but the pure ignorance of this was disturbing and maddening.  And P.S., Seth Rogen, your laugh is immeasurably obnoxious, no matter how much weight you lose.

EDIT

My mom's flight has now been MAJORLY delayed, she's not landing until 1 AM, so she's going to stay the night in Big City and take a shuttle for the 1.5 hour ride here in the morning, because I have a test in a morning class that I can't miss.  Now I feel really terrible for whining about anxiety over her being here, and am super nervous about her trying to catch rides around Big City alone in the middle of the night . . .