Leavin' on a Jet Plane

Yesterday I felt great, today I felt fat and grublike. Even though I actually weighed less this morning than yesterday morning. Go figure. I was determined, though, and stuck to what I had previously planned to eat. I haven't consumed this much in one day in....I don't even know, on the scale of years. I keep telling myself that it's in the normal range for people of my age, but my rational voice is still not quite brawny enough to outscream the taunts of the ED. Work in progress, everything is always a work in progress.

Anyway, it was a good day to have a fat day, I guess, because I had a lot of other things going on to distract me. I did all the last-minute pretravel panic with packing, cleaning, shopping, making arrangements for bills, etc etc etc. I also had to drop my dog off at a friend's house, that was so hard. I probably sound like a big nerd, but that dog is the most precious thing I have, outside of my human family of course. Leaving him in someone else's hands has stressed me out more than anything else about the entire trip. Today was the three year anniversery of when I first got him, actually. I really don't know how I would have made it through some of my low times if I hadn't had something else living in the house that depended on me, at times he has been my only incentive to stay even semi-functional. I guess that sounds very dumb and pathetic, unless you are a dog person also. Even if you aren't a dog person, how could you resist this face?

Tomorrow J. is picking me up at 5:00 to catch the shuttle to the airport, and then it's fieldwork in Central America for the next month. I'm nervous about gaining weight, even though technically I am supposed to be doing that anyway. I'm nervous about losing weight, too. If I get sick and enfeebled I won't be able to pull my share of the work, and I don't want that. I'm nervous about whether the other students at the research station will like me. I'm nervous about making a good impression on the professor. I'm nervous about how I'm going to handle all my nervous, neurotic anxiety when exercising myself into oblivion is no longer an option.

So basically, thoughts are a swirl, but I am used to that. Same song, different verse, right?

I just wanted to thank all the people I have met from the ED-Digest feed and related blogs this summer, I have felt very lucky to meet such insightful, wise, talented people and I have really appreciated the support I've gotten via e-mail and comments. Please take care and have a great rest of the summer, I will catch up with y'all in the fall.

XOXO

Power Shift

Starving makes me feel powerful. I get myself to that edge, the zero point where I am walking a physical and mental tightrope. Wobbling on the brink, daring myself to fall, breathless from the view and wishing I had the courage to let myself crash. I won’t lie: it’s miserable, exhausting, painful as hell. I won’t pretend I don’t feel that too. But at the same time, it’s transcendent, intoxicating, addictive. Yes, I know that it’s neurochemical, pathological, and unquestionably dysfunctional. Cognitive dissonance is a powerful thing, however, and what I know in theory about physiology, psychology, or even simple rationality is rarely applied to my own situation. It’s the power of going beyond what is supposed to be possible, of switching into machine mode and almost watching yourself from the outside. That disembodied, disconnected feeling that is the only way to separate from a self that I sometimes absolutely can’t bear to inhabit. That is the power that my mind tells me I get from anorexia.

But since I’ve been actually making an effort and challenging myself with more calories this week, I’m starting to experience a different kind of power. Energy, my friends, feels pretty damn good. Maybe I don’t want to be a machine anymore, this body can actually feel awesome when I’m not abusing it. This afternoon it struck me that it has been days since I got that empty, dizzy feeling before making myself fix something for lunch. I haven’t had rubber leg syndrome after my evening walks. I can’t remember a single heart palpitation over the past few days. What is this strange new world?

When I finished my workout this afternoon I felt pumped, psyched, powerful. I wanted to hit it again (but didn’t!), not to burn calories but just because it felt so great to move my body with this newfound energy. Yes, I’m still an overexercising endorphin junkie. That’s an issue, everything is a work in progress, but the point right now is that I can’t remember the last time I felt so exhilarated after a workout. Usually I just take the endorphins like another pill to be swallowed. I push myself through and mechanically check that workout off the list, then move on the next thing left to endure in my hypoglycemic haze. Usually I don't even register how my body feels before/after a workout. It's not relevant.

So, this healthy form of power is interesting. I guess the fact that being in a state of non-fatigue is such a novelty serves as a testimony to how backwards I have been for the past few months. Today I was just walking from one room to the other and I was struck by how nice it felt to move with a feeling of power rather than weary penance.

It’s amazing how we can become accustomed to feeling so terrible all the time, and forget that there is any other way to be. It’s like hanging onto your favorite pair of running shoes for way too long, insisting on using them out of nostalgia. They’re familiar, comforting, safe, they’re what you’re used to. Then you finally get a new pair, and are shocked at how great they feel, you had no idea how flat and unsupportive the soles on the old shoes were until you forced yourself to try the new ones on. Ok, this is the least graceful metaphor I think I have ever attempted to construct, but hopefully y’all get my point.

I know I have a long way to go. I know it won’t be smooth sailing. I am still having a lot of anxiety over the calories I’ve added, and I have the Buddha belly feeling, I hate that. I know it’s mostly in my head, but it still feels disruptively real. The amount of weight I’ve put on this week is pretty negligible, but my energy and vitality levels are noticeably improved, and I think that is helping me to shift gears a little bit and realize just what it is I’m fighting for. It’s interesting to realize how great it feels to be not-dying, and it makes it seem like maybe this is ugly war--this chronic power struggle--is worth winning after all.

Stressful Steps

I'm having a really hard time sitting with my food anxiety right now. I have taken myself down to the wire with getting in better shape before leaving for fieldwork on Saturday, I am way below what H. and I originally set as my pre-departure goal weight. I had been telling myself it's not a big deal, I can handle the work, look at how wonderfully functional I am at THIS weight, yaddah yaddah, but in reality I know better. So this week I have upped my meal plan, including (gasp) liquid supplements every morning. That is a huge step for me, the "I don't drink calories" mandate has been carved in stone for years.

So, a big step, but a painful one too. I should be thinking about a ton of other things, but I can't shake the anxiety about all the excess calories I've been taking in. ARRGH. I guess I'm in "fake it 'til you make it" mode, trying to just do what I know I should do and hope that it will start to feel ok as I get used to it. It kind of feels like jumping into cold water: terribly uncomfortable first, but you can't acclimate unless you suck it up and endure for a while.

I think some of it is anxiety about being in an unfamiliar place. I'll be way out of any exercise routines. Although the work will definitely be strenuous, I doubt it will be much more than my obsessive regimen at home. I think one thing that has held me back from reaching my goal weight before leaving is worrying about how much I'll gain while I'm in the field. If I'm going to put on a lot of weight while I'm there, why go out of my way to plump up before I leave? I am aware that is the ED whispering in my ear, but damn if those whispers aren't more like screams sometimes.

One other issue: the family is visiting tomorrow (parents plus two brothers, ages 15 and 12.5). I haven't seen them since I visited their house for Christmas. I have actually put on weight since then, but since it is July in the southeast instead of December in the northeast, I won't be nearly as bundled up and externally shapeless. When I talked to my mom about how much I was struggling, around March, I guess, I told her how much I weighed at Christmas and she was shocked, they had no idea.

I love my family a lot, but I go into panic mode when I feel like I have to entertain guests. It's partly neurosis over having people in 'my space,' partly anxiety over not being interesting enough, partly stress over cleaning, the list goes on. They will only be here for one night, so it can't be too bad, and the boys are going to stay at a hotel because my place is too small for everyone. It will be nice to have a girls' night with my mom, I know she needs it. I don't envy her living in a house with all males, she refers to it as "testosterhome."

I also have an appointment with H. tomorrow, my last session until the end of August, when I get back from traveling. Hopefully that will give me a little boost to help me with this terrible, gross, mind-spinning feeling I am having right now.

"I'm a Boy Anorexic"

This Sunday, July 6, BBC America will air the latest installment of its body image documentary series. The latest episode, titled "I'm a Boy Anorexic" will follow three young boys through their battle with anorexia. Anorexia is often thought to be a phenomenon that is particular to teenage girls, but the truth is that about 10% of anorexics are male. Despite the way the media ravages girls' self image and self esteem, there is at least a substantial degree of awareness about the need for vigilance when girls take dieting to extremes. For males, however, their symptoms often go unrecognized and untreated, and there can be stigma for men or boys suffering from a "girl issue." Additionally, about 20% of male anorexics are gay; there appears to be some fear by straight males of being percieved as homosexual if they admit to struggling with an ED.

Eating disorders are terrible for everyone, male or female, and I'm glad that the BBC chose to bring light to a segment of ED sufferers that do not usually get much recognition, hopefully it will result in some parents/friends/etc--or undiagnosed anorexics themselves--having a light bulb moment and realizing that there is a problem they have been overlooking.

For a long time (from when he was three until about age seven) we had a problem with my younger brother making himself throw up after almost every single meal. He was in therapy for a while and is now almost 13, with no symptoms, but it was really an issue of concern for a while. I am not sure if it fell into the pre-ED category or if it was just an anxiety issue, but after dealing with my bullshit my parents were understandably very worried about the behavior. I have a history of EDs on both sides of my family, but my brother is the first male (that I know of) that has had hints of eating/body issues. (Although I was deep into ED mode during that time as well,
I have never purged, so that behavior is not something he could have picked up from me).

The show airs on Sunday night, July 6, at 10 PM eastern. I'm leaving for my fieldwork on Saturday, and by Sunday night I will be sans electricity, much less BBC, but I will hopefully be able to track down clips or commentary when I get back.