Reclaiming Yourself

Quote of the day:

I'm starting to develop a sense that I'm the one who owns my body, and I'm starting to think more in terms of how I feel and less about my waistline. I'm much more interested in being comfortable and not self critical.
This journey to recovery continues. It's as though I'm reclaiming parts of myself every day. Slowly but surely, my soul is inhabiting much more of my body than anorexia.
~Jessica, from This is Who I Am by Rosanne Olson

Travel Weary

I am finally back home, I survived both the conference and the trip up to visit with some friends from high school. I tried hard with eating, etc during the conference and did a good job, but restricted starting around Tuesday/Wednesday, like I mentioned earlier, I always feel the compulsion to do that when I go back to the town where I went to high school (it's not my hometown, I was a nomadic Army kid, and my parents don't live there anymore). I did lose a couple of pounds total on the trip (despite having way more liquid calories last night than I usually allow myself), but am going to make an effort to restore that plus more before I leave for Central American Country in a week.

Travel home was a NIGHTMARE. I had to change planes once on my way back from the conference, and I had a nine hour delay at the airport (this is on top of my regular two-hour layover time). Insanity. I was supposed to land in the early afternoon, drive a couple of hours to take my grandparents to dinner and spend the night with them, then hang out with them for most of the day before heading up to celebrate my high school friend's 21st birthday.

Unfortunately, Delta Airlines had other plans. My original flight was cancelled, and I was put on standby for one, not allowed on, then put on a later one that ended up being delayed several hours due to weather. Lots and lots of unhappy passengers and airline workers, you could have cut the stress in the air with a knife, except you would never have gotten such an instrument through security. Just some useless trivia: for some reason I am randomly searched almost every time I fly, they either pull my bags off to rifle through or pull me aside for a thorough wand wave and pat down. I fit no stereotypical terrorist profiles whatsoever, not sure what gives.

Have I mentioned how much I HATE it when they over-aircondition public places? If it hadn't been for the anxiety keeping my adrenal system firing and metabolism revving at full blast I probably would have just curled up and frosted to death right there in my little plastic chair.

I was in hell, and it had indeed frozen over.

I ended up finally reaching my destination airport at 12:30 AM. That is the time we hit the runway. After we deplaned and I tracked down my bags (they had come in on two separate flights, neither of which were the one I myself had been on), I got myself utterly lost in the parking garage around 2:00 AM. At this point I gave up all shreds of dignity or collectedness and called my mommy, bawling. Keep in mind I had been up for 22 hours straight at that point. I did eventually find my car, and managed to escape onto the open road.

I had highly caffeinated myself and was going to try to push through the two hour drive to my grandparent's house, but once I got on the interstate I realized I had no chance of making it, so I got a motel room.

So, for Thursday: Time asleep: ~3:00 AM. Time awake the next morning: 6:30 AM.

I headed north the next morning, took the grandparents to breakfast and visited with them, then headed up another 1 hour north to stop by and see an old teacher of mine, then another 1 hour north for the birthday festivities. Seven bars later, I crashed on my friend's couch (exhausted but NOT drunk, I had about four drinks but that was over six hours. Plus, I have a freakishly high alcohol tolerance). I had to drive through three of the biggest cities in the Southeast to get home, so I set my alarm for early in case of major traffic/construction.

For Friday: Time asleep: ~3:20AM. Time awake this morning: 6:30.

To sum all of that up, I be very, very tired. The 6 hour drive home today was roughly equivalent to the total hours of sleep I've gotten since Wednesday night. Earlier I was reading a magazine and began freaking out because I was seeing a blurred spot in my field of vision with my left eye. I was almost in panic mode (glaucoma runs strongly in my family, so I am very paranoid about my sight). It took me almost a full minute to realize a piece of hair was hanging in my face, obstructing my view of the page. Apparently I am not at my cognitive peak right now.

So, in a nutshell, mission accomplished with both conference and road trip, there is more to say about each but that will have to wait until I'm a little more coherent. I started my malaria pills on Thursday, they are supposed to give you extremely vivid dreams. I was interested to see what mine would be, it would be interesting to try to analyze them, but I haven't had any of that so far. Maybe I just haven't had the chance for any REM periods in the past two pseudo-nights of sleep, who knows.

(Image source)

Travel regression

Well, I made it through the conference. I had an awesome time, and got multiple grad school offers, I am psyched. I got to have a beer with one of my science celebrity idols, and I heard all kinds of hilarious stories about my adviser from people who went to grad school with him decades ago. For the most part I did really well with eating, up until today. Exercise was still solidly in the disordered range, but I didn't lose any weight during this conference, which is an accomplishment considering how the last ones have gone.

Today I did restrict, because after I fly back south tomorrow I'm going to visit some friends from high school. Even though I have wonderful, compassionate, all around terrific friends, for some reason when I got back to that town, to that crowd, I automatically switch back into mega-ED mode. It's like I almost feel obligated to fill the role I played for the entire time they knew me back in high school. I don't blame it on them at all, they are all great. A couple of them know that I'm finally seeing a psychologist, and they have been incredibly supportive. Still . . . I wonder if they expect me to show up having gained a ton of weight? I am not any more than the last time they saw me, but will they see me as bigger just because they expect to? Why the hell does it matter, when I know that they are friends with me, not the number on my scale?

I should be focusing on staying strong because I leave for my fieldwork in Central American Country in a little over a week. . .but I can't shake the anxiety of going back into the Hot Zone where I spent the worst years of my ED, it's like I shift into autopilot, the ED is my default. I painted myself into a corner in high school, I literally was afraid to eat in public even at times when I wanted to do better, because I felt like it would bring unwanted attention if I acted in a way that people didn't expect (ie if I ate). Going away to college really helped me break through a lot of behaviors (I can now eat in public with now problem, things like that), but it's like as soon as I cross back over the state line I instantly regress.

I need to go pack my stuff and get sleep. The walls in this motel are paper thin, and my neighbors are smoking and watching something that does not exactly sound like the Disney channel. To wrap up: conference = success, jury is out on the second leg of my trip.

Musings from the Meeting

I have had much less internet access than I expected over the last few days. I’m staying in a cheap, hokey hotel, BUT they advertised free high-speed internet PLUS microwaves and fridges. Good deal, right? Not quite: apparently you get internet OR appliances, but not both, and they randomly assign you to either type of room without asking your preference. So on night one I had a fridge, no net. I switched rooms yesterday (which involved repacking all of my stuff and keeping it in my car all day), but then their server was down. Did I mention that the only internet rooms are the ones facing the indoor pool? That means high noise levels and a bed that smells like chlorine. There are worse things that fleabag motel beds could smell like, I guess I should consider myself lucky.

To summarize the journey: on Saturday I got up, dropped the dog off with a friend, drove 2 hours to Major Southeastern Airport, walked around for 3 hours, flew to Major Midwestern Airport, barely made my connection due to a delay, and then flew to Great Plains City. Rented a car in Great Plains City and drove an hour north to the university hosting the –Ology Meeting. Checked into fleabag motel, cursed the lack of internet, and then succumbed to sleep. The past two days have been awesome, I learned tons of amazing things from the research presentations and have been brushing shoulders with legendary –Ologists. My own presentation went well, I got lots of good feedback, I was so relieved!
I’m having a good time, but conference days are long. I haven’t had more than 5 hours sleep in about four nights, so I just have some random and minimally coherent notes and observations. Eating is going okish, but not without constant effort, and exercise is definitely an issue, but I’ll talk about that when I’m feeling a little more coherent. Anyway, a few random notes:

1. People are strange. I love walking around airports, I always make an effort to get there even earlier than I really need to, just so I can walk around and people watch. I live close (relatively, it’s a 2 hour drive) to one of the largest airports in the country, and it really is just like a human zoo, fascinating.

2. My body is much more helpful to me when I treat it nicely.
a. When I was hauling my luggage in from the parking lot on Saturday, I had a flashback to the last time I was at the airport, when I was returning from spending Christmas with my parents. I weighed about 10% less than I do right now; I had slipped into restriction mode for pretty much the entire holiday trip. It took me almost an hour to get to my car with my bags (all of them put together literally weighed more than I did) because I had to stop to rest so frequently, and by the time I got there my heart was arrhythmic and was really, really scaring me. This time it was still a strain to get my bags in, but I only had to stop to rest once, and that was because my arms were tired, not because I felt like I was going to pass out.

3. When trying to dress professionally and impress future employers, refeeding belly sucks. Actually, it defies the laws of physics: it sucks and blows at the same time.

4. Midwestern State (the site of the conference) is beautiful. I expected it to be flat and unremarkable, but I am really in awe of the landscape. I had to drive an hour from the airport to the town where the meeting is being held, and the landscape is so pleasant and peaceful. Very little civilization (I only passed a single gas station on my 50 mile trip up the interstate, and that lonely one was almost 5 miles from the exit), but that is not always a bad thing.

5. We Southern belles suffer when forced out of our microclimates. My eyes, lips, skin, etc have been parched ever since I got here. Where I live, on summer afternoons it feels like it would be faster to swim through the air rather than slog through the humidity on foot, and I am not at all acclimated to this dry atmosphere on the Great Plains.

6. People in Great Plains State talk funny. It’s very close to a Minnesota accent: they do strange things with their O’s. “About” is pronounced “aboot.” Of course, I have gotten a few odd looks whenever I let a “y’all” spill out, so I guess we’re even.

I feel like I had more notes on the experience so far, I guess it will come to me later. Thanks to everyone for the support before I left! The eating/exercise is much more of an issue here than it should be, but nowhere nearly as bad as I have let myself get at the last couple of conferences I’ve attended.
More updates soon, assuming the internet server doesn’t decide to flake out again.

Pre-Travel Anxiety Vent

So, my trip anxiety is at fever pitch right now. I always do this when I have to travel, the 24 hours before I leave is ridiculously stressful, and then as soon as I am loaded into the car and on the road to the airport I will relax. It's just the prep that gets to me, the packing, making arrangements for the dog, putting last-minute touches on my resume and printing copies so I can hand them out on the off-chance that anyone is interested in me, making sure all bills are paid before I leave, etc etc. I will really be a basket case right before my flight to Central American Country for fieldwork in a couple of weeks.

I don't have any kind of an eating plan for tomorrow, I can't decide if I should sit down and make myself a menu or just wing it and try to let myself get what I want when I want. I am really, really trying to look at this as a vacation from the ED, a chance to leave all the usual rules at home and make the most of the trip. The thing is, my body is not good for intuitive eating right now, if I tried that I'd come in way, way under my calories. But menu-making gets me into a very obsessive mode, I will spend hours and hours agonizing over it. I have the rest of the day to put it off before I can really have a well-justified anxiety attack over what to do.

Lastly: I just did the online check-in thing with Delta, and since when do you have to pay a fee to have two pieces of checked luggage? I just flew with them a few months ago, they must have changed the policy since then. This world, my friends, what are we going to do with it?

Does This Outfit Make My Schema Look Fat?

I have done a lot of driving (around 600-700 miles a week) for my job this summer, and I have spent some time contemplating how people’s cars become an extension of themselves on the road. That inspired me to read up on proprioception and cognitive body maps (yes, I can be a NERD!) and I have found some interesting hypotheses about how the neurology behind our perceptions of ourselves can lead to eating disorders. (This post turned out to be a little bit long, I am easily wrapped up and carried away by science topics, but trust, me it’s cool stuff!).

One of the core concepts is that of the body schema, and how that differs from body image. In a nutshell, body image is how we perceive ourselves. Not the literal reflection in the mirror, but our subjective reaction to it and feelings about it. This does not necessarily correlate to physical reality, and includes many psychological and cultural factors. Someone that weighs X in a given culture might view themselves much more or less positively than a person of the same proportions in another society. Same physical image, different cognitive body image.

Body schema, however, is much different. It is a neurological map based on actual physiology, and results from our networks of sensory receptors that keep our brains informed about the location and activity of all of our bodily bits and pieces. It incorporates the five classic senses everyone learned in kindergarten, in addition to balance (via the vestibular system) and our awareness of the space immediately surrounding our bodies (aka “peripersonal space”).

So, how do these concepts interact, and how are they distinctive in people with eating disorders? Some researchers have suggested that diets spiral into eating disorders when our two types of body maps become mismatched as a result of weight loss. Basically, body image is based on a library of experiences, emotions, and other psychological factors that are stored as steadfast beliefs in the areas of our brains responsible for memory. As anyone who has battled an ED knows, it is very, very hard to alter thought patterns that you have held, year in and year out, for decades. Sometimes it seems damn near impossible. That disordered voice becomes the default reaction to almost any situation involving food, body size, etc.

In contrast, your schema—a purely physical phenomenon based on sensory input—will automatically adjust itself as you lose weight. This allows you to maneuver your 'new' body without regressing back to bumbling around like and adolescent klutz (awkwardness in adolescence is also thought to be a proprioreception issue, caused by sudden growth spurts).

Thus, when we lose weight, our body schema and body image can get out of sync. Your body gets smaller, but psychologically you fail to perceive the change. This is one reason it is common to get a shock when you pull on clothing you have not worn in a while, and find that it doesn’t fit the way you expected it to. This can happen in different contexts: finding your summer clothes are unexpectedly snug after adding poundage over the winter, or being surprised at how loose your jeans have become after shedding a little weight. You might have been aware that your numbers (pounds, etc) have changed, but it is still surprising to be confronted with physical evidence that contradicts the way you are accustomed to viewing your size/space requirements.

Studies have suggested that body schemas seem to be formed by circuits in the right parietal lobe of the brain (yellow arrow in image). Interestingly, fMRI scans of recovering anorexics have shown much more activity in the left hemisphere of the brain when patients are at low weights, with a shift towards more activity in the right hemisphere—especially in the parietal region—as weight is restored. This could explain why ED recovery is inhibited by irrational thoughts and anxiety unless someone is able to push through and restore weight.

So, the take-home message from all this data: Eating disorders can be triggered by a lag in aligning our psychological perception of our bodies with physical changes, and building physical health can be a tool in restoring healthy thought patterns.


A couple more thought provoking points of interest related to asynchronized image/schema and EDs:
~ Testosterone has a profound influence on development of the right parietal lobe. This explains the fact that—on average—men outperform women in tests of spatial abilities. Could it also be a factor in explaining why women are more likely to let a diet spiral into an ED, do females just have a harder time with syncing their body image to their body schema? Statisically, females are more likely to have neurological imbalances that affect the right parietal. Some scientists have suggested this as an explanation for the fact that EDs strike females more frequently than males, although the issue of culture and societal pressures can’t be overlooked when examining the gender issue.

~In a study on tactile perception (explore a figure with your fingers only, no peeking, and then draw it), anorexics performed miserably compared to other people, despite having higher average IQs.

~It is thought that our body image tends to become solidified (via specific neural circuits) in adolescence, around the time of puberty. This could explain why this is a common age for developing an ED. Of course, someone can fall into an ED at any age, but the teen years are thought to be especially high-risk.

~All of this evidence for neurological factors, which are based on the physiology of the brain, give support for the idea that EDs and related psychological conditions are heritable, aka that they “run in families.” I have EDs and alcoholism on both sides of my family, so I’ve always believed there is at least some genetic component, this supports that theory.


The bulleted points are hypotheses, ideas for things that could contribute to EDs but certainly don’t explain everything. Cultural factors can't be overlooked, but there is more and more evidence accumulating to show how culture can act as a trigger on specific biological phenomena that leads to disordered thoughts and behavior. See this article for a terrific overview of more information on current research about the science behind eating disorders.


(Image credit)

Species vs Smoothies: Getting a Grip on Priorities

In approximately 48 hours, I will be leaving for a week-long conference in a far-flung part of the country. This isn't the first professional meeting I've attended, but it is most definitely the most critical one for my Career-To-Be up to this point. The last few times I've traveled to meetings I've slipped into restriction mode and lost significant weight. I hit lowest weight I've been at in about four years after a conference in Raleigh back in January. I can’t explain why, I guess it’s just being out of routine combined with lack of “safe foods” available at the meetings.

I can't do that this time. I'm applying to grad school this fall, and this meeting is specific to the exact specialty (-ology) I'm hoping to go into. Almost every -ologist in the country will be there. Cammy cannot screw this up. I am not being melodramatic when I say that my future as an -0logist could literally depend on people's perceptions of me at this event, because I will be doing a lot of networking and wooing potential grad school advisers.

I am trying to keep myself in perspective, to make myself realize how the things the ED has me worried about are so ridiculous in the grand scheme of things. I am going to be presenting a research project I've worked on for three years, with some pretty damn cool data (revision of the distribution of two species, including the first documentation of a rare subspecies in my state). I scored within my goal range on the GRE, I've started a chapter of an international organization at my university, dean’s list GPA, yaddah yaddah yaddah, I’m not going to try and pimp my resume on here but basically I have a lot of things I that I have worked incredibly hard to achieve, and this is my chance to make myself known to Important People.

Yet, in spite of all those things that should be on my mind in order to psyche myself up for the event, the issue I have spent the most time thinking about is whether I can "afford" a smoothie at the airport. Literally, hours spent bouncing between the Atlanta airport's website and Google to analyze the calories in all my options, hours I should have spent going over my presentation, refreshing myself on the statistics, doing tribal dances to summon positive energy, really anything else besides playing the numbers game with my ED. This is not how normal people operate. I need to work on living in the real world, and I have to be able to step up to the plate.

I’m good at juggling work, school, etc along with the ED, or else I wouldn’t have lasted this long. The thing is, just because I can perform despite the ED doesn’t mean I should, and it doesn’t mean that I am fooling anyone (except, often, myself) about the fact that things are not all well. Yesterday my T said something that has been replaying through my mind ever since leaving her office: “People are going to look at you and know there is a problem, how are you going to handle that?” Ouch, H. Ouch, but only because I know I’ve brought this on myself. And if I brought it on myself, I should be able to work on bringing myself out of it, right?

So, yesterday H. and I went over my toolbox of coping strategies when I’m thrown off my routines, ways to keep my priorities in line and not let the ED trump everything the is on the line with this meeting, and I went shopping for purse-friendly backup foods that I can bring along. This actually has the potential to help me make progress, because it will force me to go cold turkey from all of my exercise routines. Maybe that 5 day break will help me realize that the sun will indeed continue to rise and set if I don’t get in X miles, Y hours, Z sets every day. And I am officially cutting off the nutrition-fact-research neurosis. I’m going to wander through the airport on Saturday and buy myself whatever looks the most appealing at the time.

My purpose on this trip is species, not smoothies. I am going as a professional scientist, not a professional dieter, and I cannot, will not let myself mix up priorities and misdirect my focus.

The Voice From Above

Yesterday I was in one of my rare housecleaning rampages, preparing for an upcoming visit from the Parents. I had CNN on, but was only half listening to it as I buzzed around, rediscovering the true color of the linoleum in my kitchen and pulling socks out of crevices in my furniture, nooks and crannies which I had never even realized existed up to that point.

I happened to be walking past the entertainment center, chasing a wayward clump of G.'s fur with my broom (he is a German Shepherd, but during the summer the breed should be referred to as "German Shedders") when I heard an eerily familiar voice, saying something about calcium. Oh dear, am I that far gone? Have the voices about food in my head suddenly escaped my convoluted brain and become truly audible?

I glanced at the TV screen, and it realized it was no divine revelation, but close: it was my dietitian, her face literally larger than life, lecturing the American public about the vigilance we must maintain about evil calories hidden in various common foods (many of which grace the meal plan she worked out for me last week). Question: if the calories are so empty, dearest L., why must they make my derriere so full?

Just felt like sharing that episode. Actually I like L., as I have mentioned in an earlier post. I like her, but I'm glad she doesn't pop up on random screens in my house more often.


(Disclaimer: I do realize the food advice for the general public SHOULD differ from that given to a recovering anorexic. As y'all get to know me, you'll realize I have a healthy appreciation for irony. Just wanted to make sure no one thought I was holding the incongruity of the message to me vs America against L.)

Waist or Waste?

Quote of the day:
A waist is a terrible thing to mind.
~Leslie Goldman

Name That Neurosis

I have a great nutritionist. I am impressed with the way she handles tough issues and her level of expertise and professionalism. But I dread seeing her, dread it with every fiber of my being. Really, she’s great. She has tons of experience with eating disorders, and she offers extremely helpful advice and information. I've seen nutritionists in the past that really didn't have a clue what to do with an eating disorder patient, the general "Well you need to add X calories, get more fat and protein" doesn't really help a lot. I’m a biologist, for crying out loud, I know that surplus calories equals more poundage. The math is not that hard, and I don't need to pay someone to tell me to eat more Powerbars.

But the one I see now is really good, I like her a lot and she really offers helpful, practical tips specifically for ED issues. But I still hate seeing her. Why? My diet right now is nothing like a "typical" anorexic, and I am more than a little self-conscious about it.

In the past, I did fit the stereotypical anorexic pattern: extreme food restriction, ritualistic eating of just a few items, rigid exercise routines. I would “save up” for days in order to allow myself a bagel that had a half a gram of fat in it. Over the years, through each up and down swing through the disorder, the balance of behaviors has evolved. The ratio of food to exercise is different in each cycle. Right now exercise is just as much of an issue for me as food, if not moreso. I eat more in one meal than I used to eat in an entire day, but my exercise has increased by orders of magnitude, it's really out of control. If someone looked at my daily calorie intake, there's no way they'd think that I had an eating disorder. What makes the difference is the pathological amount of time I spend working out every day, which means I can eat X and Y and Z and still be below 75% of my "ideal body weight."

I still have strict rules about when/what I eat, I'm not at all in denial that I do have an eating disorder. I am self-conscious, though, about whether it really seems like a valid issue, because right now I really don't fit into the cookie-cutter stereotype of behaviors. I don’t binge and use exercise to purge. Even though I eat much more food than I did in previous permutations of the disorder, everything is obsessively planned, measured, and tallied. I guess all of this makes me ED-NOS? I’ve heard the term "anorexia atheletica" before, that would probably be the best descriptor right now. Labels are for soup cans, not people, but not having a niche still makes me feel a little invalid, me and my orphan, no-named freakishness.

Thus, the reason for dreading the nutritionist. I know she works with a lot of ED patients, and I can't help but think how massive my intake must look compared to some of her other clients. That being said, I know that disordered eating isn't about number of calories, it's about the manner of the relationship with food, rigid rules about eating, etc. I also know better than to trust my perceptions all of the time. Right now I feel like I eat tons (again, not impulsively, just what I’ve figured out it takes to maintain my activity from day to day) even though I know my weight is at an unhealthy low, and over the holidays I dipped down to not significantly much more than I had weighed when I was wrapped up in my most severe food restriction as a teenager.

I try to keep that in perspective, though, by remembering years ago when I was in extreme restriction mode and occasionally I'd have a bit more and feel so guilty about a "binge"...which, looking back, was actually a pathetically small number of calories. It just didn't feel like that at the time.

That raises the question: In one month, six months, a year from now, how I will I perceive the things I feel guilty or invalid about today?

Tears for Breakfast

The motel I stayed at last night night has a complimentary breakfast in the lobby, and while I was waiting in line to check out this morning I witnessed a very sad scene. At one of the tables near the edge of the room was a family of four: parents, a 13ish looking girl and 7ish looking boy. Everyone had plates of food except for the girl, who was crying and telling her frustrated-looking father that she had to wear a swim suit later in the day and "couldn't" eat anything until after that. The whole thing just really broke my heart, and made me very angry as well. Why/how have we gotten to this point?

Just Like a Pill

Last week I posted my ED recovery playlist (thanks to everyone who has left comments with additional song suggestions!) and going over the songs reminded me of an essay I wrote about four years ago, when I was a junior in high school. Our assignment was simply to take a quote from any song and write about what it meant to us. I chose Pink's "Just Like a Pill," because that song has always hit home with me, it definitely expresses how I view the ED and its role in my life (click on song title for full lyrics). I decided that the essay might be worth sharing on this blog, just keep in mind that it was written over four years ago, when I was 17. At the time, I was in the process of beginning a climb out of a severe relapse with anorexia (neither my first nor last bout with the disorder), and I was trying to put my lifestyle and priorities in a new, healthier perspective. I won't pretend that I haven't swallowed plenty of "pills" since then, but I think that year was a big turning point for me in terms of moving past denial and acknowledging the issues at hand.

Just Like a Pill

I will run, just as fast as I can, to the middle of nowhere,
To the middle of my frustrated fears, and I swear
You’re just like a pill—
Instead of making me better, you keep making me ill.
-“Pill,” by Alicia Moore, aka ‘Pink’

Our society puts a tremendous amount of pressure on people to achieve perfection—or at least whatever the concept of perfection happens to be at any given moment. Some people handle the stress with remarkable grace. They do their best to fit into all of the obligatory molds without extreme emotional trauma over their shortcomings. Some people completely rebel against society’s expectations, preferring an intentional negative image created by nonconformity as opposed to the possible rejection of their attempts to “fit in.” Everyone has seen caricatures of these groups: they are the cheerleaders and the vamp chicks, the jocks and the skater punks.

But what about everyone else? What about everyone who wants desperately to be accepted but feels completely incapable of meeting any standard? While common sense tells us that absolute perfection is relatively impossible, we still push ourselves to achieve it. And when we inevitably fail in some way or another, we feel obligated to find a way to make up for it.

If Alison can be just a little bit more fashionable, people will show more respect for her, so she turns up her nose at Wal-Mart and won’t wear anything without prominently displayed designer labels. If Jim can raise his batting average by just a little bit, then he’ll be admired, so he spends countless hours doing drills instead of studying or spending time with friends. If Beth could lose that omnipresent “just five more pounds,” she’d be the most popular girl in school, so she replaces meals with diet coke and sugar-free gum—her appetite disappears, anyway, every time she sees the “disgusting” image in the mirror. If Charlie can act risky and daring, then he’ll impress “in crowd,” so he steals cigarettes from gas stations and teases the special-ed kids while they wait at the bus stop.

All of those people are running—running as fast as they can. They run until their lungs flame, until their legs turn to rubber, until every step jars them to the core. But they’re running towards the middle of nowhere. It’s ironic—despite the huge numbers of people that end up in the “middle of nowhere,” the landscape is always overwhelmingly desolate and lonely. The only companions available for someone in “the middle of nowhere” are the frustrated fears that drove them there in the first place.

Similarly, our society loves pills. There are pills to help you get pregnant and pills to stop you from getting pregnant, pills to make your hair grow and pills to make your stomach shrink, pills to keep you awake and pills that can make you unconscious for hours. It is hard to believe that there is anything which can’t be fixed by gulping down “two tablets every four to six hours (as needed).”

Our problem is that we use many other things as “pills.” Addictions come in all shapes and forms, and the search for the substance or person, for the feeling or place that will make us “better”—that will fill up the holes and make us whole instead—is an all too common theme. Though many people spend far too much of lives “running” laps and gulping “pills,” peace can be achieved once they slow down, catch their breath, and clear their minds.

It has been my experience in life that sometimes you have to go to the “middle of nowhere” in order to gain an appreciation for being “somewhere.” It has been my experience that you have to choke on a few “pills” before you can learn to make healthier substitutes. It has been my experience that every person possesses the strength to turn around and “run” in the other direction, to toss the “pills” in the trash, and to conquer their frustrated fears. It has been my experience that being “ill” and sulking around in “the middle of nowhere” is never worth it—there are far too many other things—much more worthwhile things—that are out there waiting for you to experience.

The Caffeine Component

I am noticing that caffeine tends to exacerbate a lot of the ED behaviors that I've been trying to get under control. I am technically not "supposed" to have it at all, but I do give myself doses when circumstances demand. I have to drive across the state for my job every Friday/Saturday (I'm in a motel right now, listening to a dog barking in the next room), and I always have to have some form of coffee to keep myself awake on the 5 hour drive.

So, I juice myself up to make the drive, but then I'm stuck with the stimulant in my system for the rest of the day/night. Ways that caffeine appears to feed into (pun only slightly intended) ED issues I'm supposed to be working on:

-Decreases my appetite

-Gives me tons of nervous energy, which I then feel a compulsion to burn, making the "decrease exercise" goal harder to stick to

-Keeps me from sleeping, which gives me time to lay in bed and run numbers and other obsessive thoughts through my head into all hours of the night.

Back in high school I routinely consumed somewhat toxic amounts of caffeine. I averaged around 12 cups of a coffee and 3 diet cokes each day. I should have just hooked up an IV drip of the stuff. I could drink a cup of coffee 30 minutes before bed and still sleep like a rock, I was pretty much immune to the stimulant. Then I started having severe heart palpitations, my doctor told me to "cut the caffeine." Being the all-or-nothing type of person that I am, I went cold turkey. . . that was one of the most miserable weeks of my life! Once my system recalibrated, though, I noticed that I had even more energy post-caff than I had when I was so dependent on it. Now I am completely unadapted to it, even a single cup of coffee gets me wired for hours and hours.

So, what is the point of this post? I have had a rough day, as far as body image (aka a Fat Day), incentive to eat, urges to overexercise, etc, and I am trying to be a good therapy patient and use my analytical powers to figure out what factors are behind "rough days." I know my body isn't significantly different than it was 24 hours ago, but what makes our perceptions of body and self swing so drastically? I know that there are other issues influencing everything, there is a lot going on in my life right now, but I do think that the caffeine does play at least some role in fueling nervous energy and making compulsions a little harder to resist. Just thought it might warranted a mention. I wonder if there have been any studies done on the role of caffeine consumption in different psychological conditions?

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Confession and Confusion

Forgive me, body, for I have sinned. I wish I could say that I know not what I do, but the thing is, I do. I know exactly what I do, I know all the reasons I shouldn't, but I do it anyway. Knowing the "what" has never been the issue, it's the "why" that has always eluded me.

Crimes over the past 48 hours:
-Yesterday some majorly stressful things happened, and I vented anxiety by adding quite a bit to my usual exercise. I really felt the effects this morning, but didn’t decrease today’s workout load any to make up for it.
-I wasn’t honest with my nutritionist today.
-Today I way over-caffeinated (I'm not supposed to have any caffeine at all, it freaks my heart out) to make up for not sleeping well this past week, I've just had a lot on my mind and haven't been able to quiet thoughts enough to sleep.
-I ran into a friend at the food court on campus, and ended up eating just the salad I had bought and not the other food I’d packed, because I was too self-conscious about eating 'real food' in front of him.

Basically, I seem to have had a sudden plunge in recovery motivation, and I need to get a grip. For the past week I have been doing a lot of thinking, a lot of reasoning, a lot of trying to convince myself that it’s time to just cut the shit and do this, kick it forever and get on with my life. I just want to live free, that’s all in the world that I want. That’s how I’ve been feeling recently, at least.

I’m not sure why, but after my nutritionist appt today I really didn’t care. All of the sudden I just felt so ambivalent about everything, very un-proactive. I think it is because I had a busy day, several meetings and appointments, and it reminded me that I am indeed making it, in spite of the disorder. I can live like this, right? I’ve been doing it for years. I’m involved in tons of things, I get lots accomplished, and I haven’t been above this weight since middle school, so isn’t it obviously working for me? Ha.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not in denial that I have an ED. I know that right now I am really not living, just surviving. There is a difference. I am disgusted with the amount of time that I throw away, and the fact that I have taken a healthy, athletic body and taken it for granted, used and abused it beyond the point of recognition. I know that I can’t do this forever. Actually, I know that I probably can do this for a very long time, but I don’t want to anymore. I know there is a lot out there that I am missing. I am at that stage right now where I desperately want to be better, but I am still balking at the idea of letting go, if that makes sense. I don’t want to gain weight, I don’t know how to give up my workout routines, I’m just kind of floundering around, banging on the glass walls of the disease but afraid to really break through.

So, this week hasn’t gone that great. I swore to myself that I’d start to make major changes and really get my act together in June, but so far that hasn’t really happened. I probably deserve penance, but I think that ED transgressions are self-destructive enough to be punishment in themselves. What to do? Do. That is the key, I think. Just do it, make the decisions that we know are right, even when it feels alien and intimidating and anxiety-inducing. It’s hard as hell to let go, but when I look at the pseudolife that anorexia allows me to have, I have to wonder…as scary as recovery seems, what do I really have to lose?

Escalators vs Stairmasters

Quote of the day:
"A culture that invents both escalators AND StairMasters is a culture that needs to assess what it's actually talking about."
~Jennifer Hecht

Resume

A thought provoking issue came up during my last T session. We were talking about reasons that I feel obligated to keep myself underweight, and one thing that came up is that I'm not all that confident that people will take me seriously if there isn't some physical signal that I am an intense, high drive person. This is not attention-seeking, I really hate the assumption that EDs are all about garnering sympathy and attention, that couldn't be farther from the truth. In all of my years with anorexia, 99% of the time I have really wished that everyone would just butt out and leave me to my own devices when it came to living with the disorder.

So, not attention-seeking, but almost . . . just a way to make myself feel more valid, because I am not only capable of having ideas, solving problems, etc, but that on top of all my classes, work hours, organizations, etc, I can also take myself to another level physically. I know I can perform in academics, work, and everything else, but I don't really feel secure enough in that to let it be "it," I've got to go searchign for that next physical level as well. In this case, that "other level" is a piss-poor way of life, but it's still something a way for me to see tangible results from efforts, so it gives a seductive pseudo-payoff.

Anyway, my T offered a comment that really made me stop and think. When I mentioned that the ED sometimes makes me feel as though staying underweight is a badge of strength, perseverence, whatever, her response was: "Would you put your anorexia on a resume?"

My knee-jerk reaction was "Hell no!" I am applying to grad school soon and have been obsessing over my resume for months, so this was a very pertinent way to frame the issue. Of course I wouldn't present it as an attribute to potential professors/employers. I am a biology student, and all of my research interests involve field research, which requires both mental and physical endurance. That means that professors don't want no XX pound weaklings, and they don't want someone who has demonstrated a pathological problem with regulating basic bodily requirements. They have a lot at stake (time, money, professional advancement) when they take a grad student into their research program, and having an eating disorder is definitely not something I would tag myself with during the application process (which is the main reason this blog is anonymous).

I think the way my T framed the issue helped me to gain a better perspective on how the ED can distort our views on who is in control (disorder vs person), and what that control symbolizes. If something is truly an attribute, wouldn't you want to bring it to everyone's attention, especially future employers? Being in an unrealistic, unhealthy physical state doesn't signal strength, either figuratively or literally. It does signify something (it's different for everyone, and I'm still working on what that is for me), but not necessarily something that we should aspire to or cling to. I think that was my light-bulb moment of this week's session, it has definitely been something I've gone back to when making various decisions about behaviors over the past few days.

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ED Recovery Soundtrack

One of my "homework" assignments for therapy a few weeks ago was to make myself a recovery soundtrack, with songs that are relevant to my feelings about the ED and my path towards overcoming it. I managed to find some songs that really expressed a lot of the things I've felt at various stages of the ED, and I just wanted to share the list that I came up with. Some are more upbeat than others, the ones that hit home with me the most right now are mostly about recognizing problems and realizing that changes need to be made, that life is far too precious to waste in the disconnected, self-destructive daze. Please leave comments with any additional songs that have been meaningful to you!

• Changes by 3 Doors Down
• Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield
• Wasted by Carrie Underwood
• Jumper by Third Eye Blind
• Girl America by Mat Kearney
• Can't Break Her Fall by Mat Kearney
• Bleed Like Me by Garbage
• The Voice Within by Christina Aguilera
• Beautiful by Christina Aguilera
• Baby Seat by Barenaked Ladies
• The Reckoning by Bryson VanCleve
• Mirror by Barlowgirl
• Baby Got Back by Sir Mix A Lot ;)
• Courage by Superchick
• Beauty from Pain by Superchick
• What a Scene by the Goo Goo Dolls
• Sympathy by the Goo Goo Dolls
• Just Like a Pill by Pink
• It's the Only One You've Got by 3 Doors Down
• We Are by Ana
• Ordinary by Train
• Feel by Matchbox Twenty
• Somebody I Once Knew by Dead Celebrity Status
• All in All by Lifehouse
• Unpretty by TLC
• It's My Life by Bon Jovi
• Be Good to Yourself by Journey
• Breaking the Habit by Linkin Park
• Something Better by true story
• January by Project 1.9
• Earth to Bella, Pt 2, by Incubus
• Did You by Hoobastank

Body Image Factors

I am always amazed at how dramatically perceptions and feelings about size, body image, etc can change within a day, or even within a few hours.

I started out today feeling big(ish). I haven't put on any weight this week, and I just had my weekly appointment with my psychologist yesterday (from here on I'm going to refer to her as "T," just for the sake of brevity and privacy), so I should have been in a better state of mind. Should have, but wasn't, that's been a common theme for years.

Why the "fat feeling?" I think it is because I did make a small increase in my calories earlier this week, and yesterday I noticed that I had more energy than usual. I got in from the evening walk with the dog my legs weren't feeling like rubber and my hands weren't shakey. Good news, right? The thing is, although intellectually I know it's good news, the change felt strange. It was noticeable enough that it felt like something was missing. I was missing that feeling of almost cleansing fatigue, strung out, pushedtotheedge and running on pure adrenaline.

That feeling, my friends, is 100% ED, and the fact that I am moving towards pulling out of that zone is something I should be proud of. I am proud of it, in a way, but it still feels a little awkward . Once feeling like shit becomes your default mode, it is a strange experience when you begin to come out of it, almost disorienting.

So anyway, this morning I was feeling relatively strong, and it did affect my eating today. I didn't specifically cut meals, but I did cut corners in a few significant areas, rounded down on many calorie tallies instead of giving myself the benefit of the doubt and rounding up on things, which is something I've been working on.

My summer job involves driving to another part of the state every Friday and Saturday to do biological field surveys, which involves a lot of exertion in the heat. I live in the south, and the temperature and humidity are intense this time of year. I should have eaten better, and I should not have done even more exercise once I got back to the hotel this evening . . .but I was really craving that exhaustion. I needed a hit of endorphins, I guess. And once I reached that fatigue state, I "felt" much thinner. It was almost like being worn out was the indicator my brain needed to tell me that my body was ok, as long as it is depleted then I can be comfortable with it. Yes, I realize how skewed that is, but it doesn't make the feeling go away. I know intellectually that my weight did not change significantly during the course of this one day, but my feelings about it shifted drastically just due to my energy level. I have been working with T on identifying factors that affect body perception, and I definitely think this is a big one for me. Somewhere along the line I subconsciously decided that if I didn't feel completely worn out then I must not have worked hard enough.

Just as a side note, I actually think that the "endorphin addiction" approach to eating disorders reflects my experiences pretty closely (see this book, it's dated but the ideas are still interesting). Last semester I wrote my medical anthropology term paper on biological predispositions to eating disorders, and I spent a big chunk of the paper on the addiction approach to ED etiology.

So anyway, back to the main topic of this ramble. I think one of the most common misconceptions about eating disorders is that they make people see themselves as fat, even as they move past "skinny" and into emaciation. That has not been my experience at all, and I think it is fairly common for body image to fluctuate--within days or even hours-- according to any number of external factors. Yes, somedays I "feel fat," even when I know that I am technically underweight. But there are also days in which I am able to percieve how unhealthy my weight is, I can catch a glimpse of myself in a window and think "damn, Cammy, you need to get this under control." I am fully aware of the medical dangers, and it does get scary . . . but making changes, letting go of a lifestyle that has been part of me for eight years, ever since I was thirteen . . . that is even scarier, and that cognitive dissonance, seeing danger but simultaneously embracing it, is a manifestation the ED.

This turned out to be much longer than I intended, conciseness is not one of my strong points. The main point I am attempting to address is that the idea that all anorexics always see themselves as fat is a major public misconception, as most ED sufferers undoubtedly already know. There are so many different factors involved in our perceptions of our bodies, and this can create a roller coaster of body image, with hills and valleys that correlate to moods, social settings, energy levels, anxiety levels, the list goes on and on, and it's different for every individual. I think it's crucial for us to be aware of what contributes to our feelings about our size and shape, in order to develop rational coping strategies to deal with the inevitable days when body image takes a plunge and we're tempted to let the ED behaviors sneak back in.

Introspection on Introversion

I attended a leadership workshop last month, and we did several personality surveys, and one was an introvert/extrovert test. I scored as an introvert. That wasn’t surprising, but I did learn quite a bit when we talked about what it really means to be intro/extro, it was an enlightening session.

I am not at all shy, or afraid to be around people, I have always made friends easily and am not a stereotypical timid introvert. In the session, we discussed the misconception that introverts are socially awkward hermits. In reality, it just means that you get strength and focus better when you have independent time to "process" things. For me, where the introversion comes into play is that I can just get overloaded after a while from being social, and need some “me time” to retreat and recharge. I am the queen of “me time.” I enjoy being around other people, but I need to do it on my own terms and definitely need a safe zone to which I can retreat whenever I feel the urge. Examples: I live by myself, have never had a roommate; I am not shy about going to movies by myself if there is one I especially want to see; and I really enjoy long road trips with just me and my dog.

I have been pondering this issue, and I think that maybe the ED can be seen as one of those retreat zones. I want so much in life, there are so many things I want to do, to see, to be. It can truly be overwhelming, the ideas and goals and activities are kind of like being in a crowded room, and sometimes I just need a hole to crawl into in order to take a break from everything…the problem is that I have managed to dig an incredibly maladaptive and insidious hole, and have managed to get myself wedged in pretty tightly.

It's scary to poke your head out of that hole, blinking into the sunlight. A big part of recovery is learning better methods to cope, developing ways to deal with the world without having to resort to destructive behaviors as distractions when life gets overwhelming. I wish I had a magic formula to share, an exact recipe for the ideal coping strategy, but I think that a lot of it is just trial and error, living each day in the moment and allowing yourself to learn from mistakes instead of punishing yourself for them.

I would be interested to hear other views on the "introversion from life" hypothesis, please don't hesitate to leave comments on that or with ideas for alternate, healthy ways to retreat and recharge!

Introduction

First of all, this is an ED recovery blog. I will not use numbers, detailed descriptions of behaviors, or anything else that will be high-risk "triggers." Cammy is not my real name, I have multiple reasons for keeping this blog anonymous, but that is not to imply that ED sufferers should be ashamed of themselves, that is simply not true.

I am a 21 year old college student, and I have been battling anorexia for 8 years now. I have had ups and downs with the disease, more down than up, unfortunately. I am at a point in my life where I really need to get a grip and reclaim control. I recently started therapy for the ED, and I guess you could say that I am at the beginning stages of recovery. I am approaching this as the "real thing" this time, not the half-assed attempts I made in the past just to appease other people.

Who am I? Some days I am really not sure myself, but here are some things I do know: I love nature. I love to learn, and devour books almost faster than I can afford to buy them. I love my dog. I have a talent for untying knots. I like to watch thunderstorms. I am proud to be a Southern girl. I have seen the movie 'Grease' a total of 216 times. I currently subscribe to 12 different magazines (none of which are fashion or glamour mags). I was an 'Army brat' and grew up on military bases. I like to walk in the rain, preferably barefoot.

So, why the blog? Writing has always been an outlet for me, I tend to process thoughts and ideas much better if I put them down on paper (or type them, such as here). Having an ED is an incredibly isolating experience, and I think that using the blog as a place to share my musings and insights about recovery will be a way to help me break out of my box a little bit. I feel like it will be easier to hold myself accountable if I am posting goals and updates, also.

Finally, I know there is a growing community of ED recovery blogs out there, and I am looking forward to hopefully becoming a part of that and doing my part to support the recovery of other people that are suffering from EDs or related issues. I know it sounds cliche, but I mean it when I say that if any of my ramblings or observations can help even one person, that will be enough to satisfy me.

That is my introduction, hopefully I have not scared anyone off. I will start the 'real' recovery posts soon, stay tuned . . .