Excuses

School ended last week, and I celebrated by getting really sick.  Not by choice, mind you.  The timing was uncanny though, school got out Friday, I got sick Saturday night, spent the next 48 hours in the commode, visited the ER, and then spent the next 48 hours laying low and praying food would stay in.  Thank goodness school was out, cause it would have sucked to miss that last week!

On the plus side, mentally, this bug didn't beat me.  Not one bit.  I was surprisingly upbeat and cheery despite the fact that I now know how many tiles are in my bathroom floor.  Except.....

My ex-bff is trying really hard to work his way back into my life.  We haven't spoken in a while, which has been really nice.  But when this bug hit me, he was right there next to me, offering comfort and companionship.

And I've been buying it.  Sort of.  I've been (sort of) using this as an excuse to not eat.  By sort of, I mean that for 48 hours I didn't eat.  I was too sick.  The next 48 hours I really couldn't eat.  Believe me, I tried, but my stomach rejected everything but crackers and bananas.

It's been day one of actual eating, and I'm on a very bland diet..... and he is loving it.  I looked in the mirror this morning and have visibly lost weight over the last 5 days.  It made me smile, looking in the mirror and seeing the smaller body staring back at me.  Even though I know it's so not a good thing..... being happy about losing weight from being sick....

I'm giving myself the week.  That's it.  I've been exhausted and weak, and in no mood to argue with him.  I know that this is a blip in the path.  I know that while I may be enjoying his visit at the moment.... I know he's the worst influence on me, and he views my health completely differently than my team and I do.  A week.  Then it's back to the meal plan.

At least that's my plan.

Keep on Keepin On...

I've had a very rough go of it the last few months, and I've played it off to be nothing that I can't handle.  Nothing out of the ordinary.  But the truth is, I've just been back in that place called denial.  And I forgot my paddles.

Time to come clean.  To admit that I'm struggling.  A lot.  To admit that yesterday's intake was a one time thing would be a lie.  Seems I've given myself permission to have one extremely low day nearly every week for the last two months, and I've brushed it off as no big deal.

Truth is, I do hope it's no big deal.  I do not want to fall into a full blown relapse, throwing away the months of hard work that I've done and that my team's done.  I've been stable for just over six months.  I don't want to throw it all away.

Serendipitously, a few resources passed through my twitter feed just this morning, that were so fitting for where I am right now, I wanted to share them.  Maybe they'll help someone else the way they helped me.

The first article has been floating around Facebook for a few days but I just stumbled upon it today.  So You're Feeling Too Fat To Be Photographed is a must read. So helpful as today I'm putting together a video of teaching clips for an assignment, and am not thrilled with what I see on screen. 

The second article, Beautiful Feathers reminded me that as I avoid letting my true talents show, as I try to hide from those that are unkind to me, the reality is that I'm hurting myself, not those who are trying to hurt me.  Leaning in, asking for help, and shining as brightly as you can... this is a post I'll be revisiting frequently.

Finally, and most serendipitous, is a post on the blog Thick Dumpling Skin entitled Relapse which I read this morning, shortly after reading an email from my nutritionist.  "So yesterday I struggled.  Today I move on.  Tomorrow, who knows.  I can’t promise to be perfect, but I promise to always be honest."  Lynn put into words a reminder that I most definitely needed to hear.

When Are You Due?

I bet many expectant parents hear this question a lot.  It makes sense, right?  They're pregnant, and people looking to strike up a conversation will ask the obvious.  And I bet many expectant parents are more than happy to answer the question.

Well I'm not.  Because I'm not an expectant parent.

I am recovering from an eating disorder.  There, I said it.  I've danced around the topic a lot on the blog, but I don't know that I've come outright and said that before.

In the not-so-distant past, a complete stranger came up to me, attempted to put her hand on my extremely bloated belly as she asked the dreaded question.  I was shocked.  I mean, I know by evening I am bloated.  I hate it.  But pregnant?  Really?  That is SO not something to say to me.

That comment, as innocent as it may have been (the woman needs to be smacked upside the head as lesson one in learning tact) it flipped my world upside down and sent me into a dangerous spiral.

See, my recovery has only been strong for about two months.  That's not long enough to let a comment like this not rock the boat.  I do not want to throw the last year and a half's worth of work away.  My team has worked too hard to get me to where I am, stable for two months.  But I am so, so, so, discouraged right now.  All that work, all that effort, all that pain......... I mean, my body image has been really bad for years, and while recovery has stabilized my weight and my physical health, I still struggle with the body image blues.  Big time.  And for the last few weeks, it's been exceptionally miserable in the mirror.  This didn't help.

This time around, it wasn't a number that set me off.  It was a stupid stranger.  An inconsiderate, thoughtless, possibly-well-meaning, stranger.  And my former best bud Ed is  holding the door wide open, inviting me back into the relationship that I worked so hard to leave behind.