I am at a place in my moving forward* where I'm in limbo. I'm not someone with an eating disorder any more. Nor am I in a place that I'd consider entirely 'recovered' either.
There are clearly other people out there in a similar situation. I know this because there's a market for books like Jenni's; those for people who aren't quite ready to totally let go of the eating disorder/recovery world, and yet aren't in that place where this is at the centre of their lives.
At this point, living what I have learnt in the "recovery journey" - in my moving forward - is probably the most effective method of my keeping moving on. For me, as it seems was with Jenni when she had to act and 'just eat' - I must act. My specific actions may be different from yours, but the message will be the same:
Put into practice all that you are learning every single day. We have a choice. We always have a choice, because every action is a choice in itself.
This is hard. Seriously hard.
I've clung hard to the idea that changes in my relationship with food will come when I change my relationship to myself, my body, others, my emotions... Essentially, when my life changes, I figured that my relationship with food would do, too.
And it has changed in many positive ways, as a result of other changes:
*I eat meat and steak is my favourite dinner!
*I can try and eat a wide range of foods
*I can cook for myself
*I am not frozen by my fear of food
*I've stayed the same size for maybe three or so years
*I don't judge myself on what I eat
*I binge very rarely now
*I will not diet, no matter what
These changes have got me to where I am. They've helped me to be who I am today.
I am someone who has had eating disorders. I am someone who is still working on developing a healthy, "normal" relationship with my food and my feelings.
I am someone who does not have an eating disorder today.I am someone who does not have an eating disorder today.
This is hard to write, and even harder to accept fully, though I know that it is true for me now. I've worked so hard to get to a point where I wouldn't have an eating disorder anymore and now I'm here.... Now what?
Well, accepting that I no longer have an eating disorder is something I plan to work on. It'll take time to get used to, because it was my life. But that's it, isn't it? It was my life. It's just not now.
I've also still got plenty to work - and act on - with respect to my eating. My focus can change to actively putting in practice those things I know will work for me. These are things I've learnt in therapy, from books, from wonderful bloggers, from friends, family and what I know in my heart. Intuitive-eating, my way.
For me, this involves:
*Checking in with my body and rating my hunger, before and after eating. If my hunger is less than 4, I need to eat. If it is higher than 6, I need to stop eating. My body will give me clues as to what it is I want to eat. The more I do this, the easier and more natural it will get.
*Planning home-cooked meals for most evenings, planning a variety of lunches and starting to break my set-in-stone habits at breakfast time.
*Putting the time in to get a shopping list together each week and committing to go to the supermarket. Even when I'd rather do something else - or nothing at all. It keeps me relaxed with food and if it helps my anxiety, then it's healthful for me right now.
*Making the time to do a little exercise. Building a little jogging into my schedule each week. It's good for my mental health (and my body - though this isn't the reason I do it).
*Make the effort to slow things down. For me, I find myself race through to the eating bit without any of the thinking. Like I did with challenging the negative thoughts, I will need to slow it all down and give myself the chance to choose differently.
These are things that many people have to work on each day. I know that for me, overeating and eating 'just in case' are issues I've struggled with most of my life, so to expect them sorted straight away is unrealistic.
As is letting go of those things that really helped me when I did have an eating disorder. It was scary to stop therapy. I might go back to it at another point in my life, but letting go of the support from this was very, very scary. Starting a new job allowed me to do this, providing a 'natural' stopping point. Stopping attending support group will be another milestone. It's proving less helpful to me personally as time goes on. At the moment, it's still something I get something from - if only that I am not as ill as X,Y,Z anymore and that I can see how far I've come. Handing over the reins a little more with our own self-created support group is another thing I'm working on.
However the next statement is still true.
I do not have an eating disorder. And this is down to my actions and my actions alone. I hope the same proves true for you, too.
*For those who don't know what I mean, I'm essentially talking about moving forward and away from disordered eating. Moving forward with my life.
Showing posts with label positive thinking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label positive thinking. Show all posts
Thursday, 14 July 2011
Just Eat?
Today I was reading Jenni Schaefer's book "Goodbye Ed, Hello Me!" and came across a section intriguingly headed with the words 'just eat'. (If you haven't read or heard of Jenni, then I would very much recommend you check out her web pages via this link. She's a really positive example of someone who's really moved forward with her life - and away from disordered eating).
ost people who have issues with food have probably been told to 'just' eat, at least once (if not many times). I can recall two particularly painful incidents of this happening to me.
The first happened when I was first began to binge, after the cracks began to show in a year's worth of restrictive eating behaviours. I'd managed to achieve what, by responses of those around me, I intellectually knew to be a slim figure (I couldn't entertain the idea that I was actually thin - not me, I thought). And here I was, eating (bingeing - I didn't know the difference back then), and ruining it. I was sure I was going to be caught out and would be huge the moment I ate anything. My friend and flatmate at the time found me, upset, over a teaspoon of vegetable spread, in our kitchen. In a frustrated tone (that I took to be angry and jealous), she said "why can't you just eat, like a normal person?!"
This was the start of the end for our friendship.
Today, I can see that perhaps this comment wasn't meant to be mean, or critical, or even jealous. It could have been the result of a frustrating, confusing year in which her friend changed before her very eyes. Literally. Knowing what I now know of how our friendship went up in flames (hindsight's a bitch), it was most likely a combination of these reasons. At the time, I blamed her entirely, whilst punishing myself with food. Today, I know that relationships are far more complex than that. And unfortunately, there are some which are unhealthy for all concerned.
Being told to 'just eat', in this case, proved a pivotal lesson in moving forward. Moving away from disordered eating will sometimes mean being prepared to move forward - and away from - disordered relationships. And it can be painful.
The second 'just eat' incident that comes to mind was with my Mum.I've been able to talk about my issues with food far more openly in the past few years. For the most part, this has proven to be a really helpful tool in moving forward. It's made me feel closer to my Dad and boyfriend, as well as friends and even strangers. Yet just because I am able to speak honestly and openly about my disordered eating history, doesn't mean everyone else can.
When I tried to broach the subject with my Mum, she asked me, in a puzzled tone why amorexics just don't eat. It was a real conversation stopper, and made me fill up with tears that I swallowed back the best I could.
There are so many answers I could have given to that question:
*People with anorexia are all different, and there are as many reasons for why someone develops this particular illness as there are people who have it
This would have been my diplomatic answer; an educated and considered response appropriate for someone who was genuinely curious about why someone might develop the restrictive behaviours associated with anorexia.
But this wasn't what my Mum was asking.
*I developed anorexia partly because those very people who were meant to see that I was unhappy and lonely and ill chose to ask me instead how I was losing all this weight - MUM.
This would have been my angry response; the deep-seated anger and frustration I held because my mother could not be the mother I wanted and needed her to be the most. I knew this would not get me the response I wanted (i.e. an apology - and a mother). So this one was out. Unfortunately, my Mum's own disordered eating and mental health issues, and my own disordered relationship with her, where I feel responsible for her made saying what I felt too complex.
So what did I do?
I left it.
Sometimes, people say things to cut conversations off. Sometimes, there are things that are so painful to address, other people in our lives might not be able to handle them themselves.
And it's okay.
Honestly? It didn't feel okay at first. I was upset at first; angry and frustrated with her. And with me, for bringing it all up. It took me time and therapy to figure out how I would move on from this.
What I learnt was that I needed to work out how I could change to make this relationship manageable for me. I couldn't change her and I couldn't make her want to change with me. What I could do was try and get away from feeling responsible for my Mum. We cannot be responsible for the choices other people make in our lives. This is true even for the people closest to us; those who ironically were meant to be caring for us.
I finally let go when my Mum got re-married. I did it with my boyfriend next to me. Only he, my then therapist and a few trusted friends knew. It still saddens me that I may never have the mother I needed, but I no longer allow myself to be in a position of taking responsiblity for her.
So....what's the point of me telling you this?
I wanted to highlight how seemingly off-hand comments can spark a whole range of thoughts, feelings, behaviours and changes. When moving forward, we can learn to make them positive for us. We can take the good from a situation that would've once seemed to be nothing but negative.
And we move forward each and every time we do this. So yeah, we could just eat - only now we're learning to do so much more as well as eat.
ost people who have issues with food have probably been told to 'just' eat, at least once (if not many times). I can recall two particularly painful incidents of this happening to me.
The first happened when I was first began to binge, after the cracks began to show in a year's worth of restrictive eating behaviours. I'd managed to achieve what, by responses of those around me, I intellectually knew to be a slim figure (I couldn't entertain the idea that I was actually thin - not me, I thought). And here I was, eating (bingeing - I didn't know the difference back then), and ruining it. I was sure I was going to be caught out and would be huge the moment I ate anything. My friend and flatmate at the time found me, upset, over a teaspoon of vegetable spread, in our kitchen. In a frustrated tone (that I took to be angry and jealous), she said "why can't you just eat, like a normal person?!"
This was the start of the end for our friendship.
Today, I can see that perhaps this comment wasn't meant to be mean, or critical, or even jealous. It could have been the result of a frustrating, confusing year in which her friend changed before her very eyes. Literally. Knowing what I now know of how our friendship went up in flames (hindsight's a bitch), it was most likely a combination of these reasons. At the time, I blamed her entirely, whilst punishing myself with food. Today, I know that relationships are far more complex than that. And unfortunately, there are some which are unhealthy for all concerned.
Being told to 'just eat', in this case, proved a pivotal lesson in moving forward. Moving away from disordered eating will sometimes mean being prepared to move forward - and away from - disordered relationships. And it can be painful.
The second 'just eat' incident that comes to mind was with my Mum.I've been able to talk about my issues with food far more openly in the past few years. For the most part, this has proven to be a really helpful tool in moving forward. It's made me feel closer to my Dad and boyfriend, as well as friends and even strangers. Yet just because I am able to speak honestly and openly about my disordered eating history, doesn't mean everyone else can.
When I tried to broach the subject with my Mum, she asked me, in a puzzled tone why amorexics just don't eat. It was a real conversation stopper, and made me fill up with tears that I swallowed back the best I could.
There are so many answers I could have given to that question:
*People with anorexia are all different, and there are as many reasons for why someone develops this particular illness as there are people who have it
This would have been my diplomatic answer; an educated and considered response appropriate for someone who was genuinely curious about why someone might develop the restrictive behaviours associated with anorexia.
But this wasn't what my Mum was asking.
*I developed anorexia partly because those very people who were meant to see that I was unhappy and lonely and ill chose to ask me instead how I was losing all this weight - MUM.
This would have been my angry response; the deep-seated anger and frustration I held because my mother could not be the mother I wanted and needed her to be the most. I knew this would not get me the response I wanted (i.e. an apology - and a mother). So this one was out. Unfortunately, my Mum's own disordered eating and mental health issues, and my own disordered relationship with her, where I feel responsible for her made saying what I felt too complex.
So what did I do?
I left it.
Sometimes, people say things to cut conversations off. Sometimes, there are things that are so painful to address, other people in our lives might not be able to handle them themselves.
And it's okay.
Honestly? It didn't feel okay at first. I was upset at first; angry and frustrated with her. And with me, for bringing it all up. It took me time and therapy to figure out how I would move on from this.
What I learnt was that I needed to work out how I could change to make this relationship manageable for me. I couldn't change her and I couldn't make her want to change with me. What I could do was try and get away from feeling responsible for my Mum. We cannot be responsible for the choices other people make in our lives. This is true even for the people closest to us; those who ironically were meant to be caring for us.
I finally let go when my Mum got re-married. I did it with my boyfriend next to me. Only he, my then therapist and a few trusted friends knew. It still saddens me that I may never have the mother I needed, but I no longer allow myself to be in a position of taking responsiblity for her.
So....what's the point of me telling you this?
I wanted to highlight how seemingly off-hand comments can spark a whole range of thoughts, feelings, behaviours and changes. When moving forward, we can learn to make them positive for us. We can take the good from a situation that would've once seemed to be nothing but negative.
And we move forward each and every time we do this. So yeah, we could just eat - only now we're learning to do so much more as well as eat.
Wednesday, 6 July 2011
Confessions of a Blogger with Writer's Block
Okay. Time to speak the truth about my absence from my blog.
I struggle with writer's block here, and yet, I write all the time elsewhere.
My bag typically holds my journal and when I'm stuck at the computer, I use a great site called 750 words (http://750words.com/) to journal for myself. Sometimes, I tweet, text or email friends for support.I've even started writing content for my book.
So what's up with getting my writing up here?
Fear
I self-edit like crazy before posting here.
Confession time: I am afraid that if I post here, regularly and honestly, someone I know will come across it and will know all my "secrets".
I am afraid of writing. Which seems ridiculous, given how much I do and how big a part of my life it has become in my moving forward.
But here's the thing: By putting my writing (including the non-edited, non-perfect bits) out there, I feel that I am putting myself - and my dreams of becoming a published writer - up to be judged, shot down or criticised.
Perhaps someone influential will read it... and (literally) write me off as a failure before I even truly begin.
Perhaps a friend, or a family member, will read it... and worry that I am spending too much time thinking about issues I ought to be so over - so past this - by now.
Perhaps a stranger will read it... and never come back.
Perhaps - and this is the worst one of all - no one will really care. What's the point in writing this blog (or - gulp! - my book) at all, if no one will read it?!
Scary stuff, huh?
You may be thinking why even bother? I can tell you that this has definitely crossed my mind a million times. And yet here I am. I can't quite let go of the idea of writing a blog. My other forums for all sorts of different writings are brilliant - they truly are - and yet... here I am.
Moving forward has become about so much more than food, and my disordered relationship with it. It has opened up to being about allowing myself to dream. It's about allowing myself to try new things. It's even about allowing myself to fail, and if that is what becomes of my blog, my writing, my book then so be it.
So be it.
You see, there's a whole other list of 'perhaps' I overlook when the fear kicks in and it goes something like this:
Perhaps someone influential will read my blog... and will really love it. Maybe - just maybe - they'll love it so much, that I could stand a real chance at getting my dream job as a writer.
Perhaps a friend, or family member, will read my blog... and they will really understand what's been going on for me. Maybe my relationships will change for the better as a result of my being honest about my experiences of moving forward with my life.
Perhaps a stranger will read my blog... and will keep coming back.
Perhaps there are people out there who will care about what I have to say. Perhaps I will realise just how much of a positive impact I can have, with my words.
Today, in the spirit of committing to moving forward, I am choosing to believe in myself, my writing and in you - the people who may just happen to come across this blog.
Thank you for reading this. I sincerely mean it and I hope that you find something here that inspires or intrigues you enough to keep coming back.
I struggle with writer's block here, and yet, I write all the time elsewhere.
My bag typically holds my journal and when I'm stuck at the computer, I use a great site called 750 words (http://750words.com/) to journal for myself. Sometimes, I tweet, text or email friends for support.I've even started writing content for my book.
So what's up with getting my writing up here?
Fear
I self-edit like crazy before posting here.
Confession time: I am afraid that if I post here, regularly and honestly, someone I know will come across it and will know all my "secrets".
I am afraid of writing. Which seems ridiculous, given how much I do and how big a part of my life it has become in my moving forward.
But here's the thing: By putting my writing (including the non-edited, non-perfect bits) out there, I feel that I am putting myself - and my dreams of becoming a published writer - up to be judged, shot down or criticised.
Perhaps someone influential will read it... and (literally) write me off as a failure before I even truly begin.
Perhaps a friend, or a family member, will read it... and worry that I am spending too much time thinking about issues I ought to be so over - so past this - by now.
Perhaps a stranger will read it... and never come back.
Perhaps - and this is the worst one of all - no one will really care. What's the point in writing this blog (or - gulp! - my book) at all, if no one will read it?!
Scary stuff, huh?
You may be thinking why even bother? I can tell you that this has definitely crossed my mind a million times. And yet here I am. I can't quite let go of the idea of writing a blog. My other forums for all sorts of different writings are brilliant - they truly are - and yet... here I am.
Moving forward has become about so much more than food, and my disordered relationship with it. It has opened up to being about allowing myself to dream. It's about allowing myself to try new things. It's even about allowing myself to fail, and if that is what becomes of my blog, my writing, my book then so be it.
So be it.
You see, there's a whole other list of 'perhaps' I overlook when the fear kicks in and it goes something like this:
Perhaps someone influential will read my blog... and will really love it. Maybe - just maybe - they'll love it so much, that I could stand a real chance at getting my dream job as a writer.
Perhaps a friend, or family member, will read my blog... and they will really understand what's been going on for me. Maybe my relationships will change for the better as a result of my being honest about my experiences of moving forward with my life.
Perhaps a stranger will read my blog... and will keep coming back.
Perhaps there are people out there who will care about what I have to say. Perhaps I will realise just how much of a positive impact I can have, with my words.
Today, in the spirit of committing to moving forward, I am choosing to believe in myself, my writing and in you - the people who may just happen to come across this blog.
Thank you for reading this. I sincerely mean it and I hope that you find something here that inspires or intrigues you enough to keep coming back.
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