Forgiveness

Thought of the Day

2007-09-25T12:00:00.001-07:00

Remember that the tone of your voice carries as much information as the words you speak.
- Life's Little Instruction Calendar

A New Focus

2007-09-18T07:59:00.001-07:00

I was reading over my old blogs and something occurred to me. I have spent a lot of time and energy talking about what is wrong in my life. Sure, I feel somewhat justified in my negativity because I’ve had a lot to feel bad about. The past two years have been all about dealing with low self-esteem and shame and then where all of that came from.

But seriously, this blog is just depressing and whiny. Therefore I am instituting some balance…some positive balance. I have so many things in life to be thankful for right now and I am going to start paying more attention and energy towards those aspects of my life. Not that I won't ever post a frustration blog...but there does need to be a balance.

I am thankful today for:
1) That I am healthy
2) Supportive friends and family
3) I have taken steps to regain my life and identity
4) I’m learning how to set positive boundaries between me and those around me
5) I have not forced myself to throw up in 5 months

So much to be thankful for and a bright future to look forward to.

Divorce, Selfishness and Boundaries

2007-09-12T08:23:00.001-07:00

In the advent of my divorce, therapy for my eating disorder and broken relationship, and having to listen to lots of various people’s ‘wisdom’ on the issues in my life, I have done a lot of introspection, reading and figuring out who I am and what exactly I believe.

The only conclusions I have come to are the following: 1) NO ONE knows what goes behind other people’s homes behind closed doors. 2) Both the liberal and conservative governments want to impose laws oversimplifying complicated situations for their own agendas. 3) Forcing any sort of law accountability is going to push people back into doing things more sneaky and eventually more harmful…you know the way it was in the early to mid 1900’s where women just put up with philandering husbands or alcoholic, verbally abusive husbands, etc… or men “putting up” with domineering wives who cared little about them as husbands, let their appearances go, lost interest in sex, etc… Both spouses would eventually get their kicks elsewhere whether it was another woman, jobs, children, clubs, etc…

This isn’t about more government control or law-makers making it more “difficult” to get divorced or forcing people to go back to “proving” various reasons for dissolving a marriage. It is about changing hearts and personal accountability…not more laws from agenda pushing officials who hypocritically are screwing both males and females behind their spouse’s and children’s backs as well as God-only-knows what else.

I read an article about the damage of divorce on children. How more and more couples are choosing to “stay together” for the sake of the children instead of divorcing. Personally, I think this is a load of crap. While divorce is painful, it is the attitude of the parents whether they divorce or not that makes a difference in the child(ren). In some cases, the couple divorcing is the best thing that can possibly happen even in cases where there is no abuse of any kind. Children that grow up in a household where the parents simply exist together for their sake have no better attitude towards marriage than those whose parents divorce. At least if one spouse remarries and has a healthy marriage, the child(ren) will get to see a better example.

I grew up in the age of parents simply staying together. Fortunately for me, my parents have been married 40 years very happily. I saw the best example of a loving, Christian marriage I think a person can witness and live. That didn’t save me from my own divorce though. Several of my friends, however, grew up in marital homes where their parents simply existed together. There was obviously no romance, no connection and a father who traveled quite frequently. That was “normal” to them. Most of them were smart enough to know that marriage could be more, but most will probably carry that complacent attitude to their own marriages.

Is it so wrong to want something more? Is it wrong to recognize that someone else, and perhaps it is your spouse, is simply a fundamentally unhealthy person for you to be around? That they are and probably will always be someone that brings out the absolute worst in your personality and inner psyche? Is it wrong to choose that there is someone else out there who can better be an actual partner for me and who brings out the best in me and me in them? Someone I don’t resent? Someone that I want to grow old with and have children with?

I know marriage is work, but marriage should not be a daily, sometimes hourly struggle to survive as a person. My ex is not a bad person. In many ways, he is a wonderful person with a lot to offer. I hope he finds someone wonderful that will love him for every bit of the person he is and finds a lot of happiness. We have a very long and convoluted history together that took an irreparable emotional toll that I could not recover from if I stayed with him. Had I stayed, it would have taken quite literally, years and years to even feel comfortable and “safe” emotionally with him. That would have put me in my 30’s. I would never have wanted to bring a child into the relationship as it was for a long time probably putting my child bearing into my mid-30’s. Then I would have spent half of my adult life just trying to recover from a relationship that probably wasn’t going to work anyway.

We get exactly one shot at this life. One. Only one. (Sorry, I don’t believe in past lives or reincarnation.) Even with my “Christian” beliefs, you can not convince me that God wants any of his children to be fundamentally unhappy and unable to be the person that they were created to be. Mistakes in relationships happen…especially when you are 21 years old and have been eating disordered for 2 years at that point. I had modified myself to be what everyone else wanted me to be or at least what I thought they wanted me to be. I wasn’t myself anymore. I did not heed the red flags that were right in front of me because I didn’t know their long-term impact.

I have had to deal with lots of family members asking me, “So there is no hope? Seeing another counselor won’t help? Maybe you should just give it some more time. But you two seemed so happy.” Or my personal favorites, “With God, you two can save this marriage.” And “You just have to make the decision that divorce is not an option and push through this time.”

Then I have my ex in the other ear writing me about how much he doesn’t want this and he can’t believe I just gave up. And where is my commitment and belief in marriage? Or he never thought he would marry someone that would just walk away when things got a little tough.

Seriously, it is so convenient for people that hurt other people to say that. How about over a year ago when I asked for help with my ED and I asked for marital counseling and he wanted to pretend like nothing was the matter? He told me point blank he just wanted to let me pretend and smile because he couldn’t bear the fact I was unhappy. Instead of researching how deadly bulimia is and how on the brink of irreversible health damage I was at, he chose to ignore. Reject. Be convenient for him. And now I’m the one with no commitment.

How much time is enough? One year? Two years? Five years? After we’ve bought a house and had a child? After I collapse from continuing my eating disorder? After I suffer another mental breakdown? After I’m on more medications?

I’m reading a new book called “Better Boundaries.” For too long have I let too many other people’s opinions rule and run my life. I give more credence to other people’s thoughts and emotions than I do my own. I let other people’s emotional states turn my too empathetic heart. I need to learn better ways of protecting myself as I reclaim my life and do things the way that I know is best and healthiest for me. I need to learn caring ways of shutting people’s well intentioned comments down.

Sorry…lots of rambling. I’m just tried of reading over-generalized articles from “experts” about things which they themselves have probably no personal experience.

Outraged

2007-08-24T13:54:00.000-07:00

To start this post, first of all an AMEN! that John Couey just received the death penalty for the abduction, rape and burying alive murder of 3rd grader Jessica Lunsford. I won't even go into the injustice of that despicable monster eating up tax payers money while he waits for probably over a decade to be peacefully euthanized after what he did to that child. I just can't. The real injustice though is that it continues to take outrageous cases like this to change laws and get people and, more importantly, law makers to pay attention. Severe sexual predators with 30 year histories of violence and degradation, such as John Couey, should not be allowed out in normal society under ANY circumstances. It doesn't bring Jessica back, but it hopefully sends a message.

Next topic...Lindsey Lohan. I am OUTRAGED that after 7 misdemeanor accounts, drug use and blowing 2 times the legal limit, she received one-day in jail. ONE FREAKING DAY! As one post put it, normal people look at a cop cross-eyed while getting a traffic ticket would probably receive harsher treatment. What is it going to take? Lindsey actually killing someone before law enforcement start actually enforcing that she abide by rules and laws like the rest of us?! I am so sick and TIRED of celebrities continuing to be above the law. Seriously, what will it take? Why do people always have to die before others pay attention?

Michael Vick - Again, whoopdeedo that he pled guilty to dogfighting. The guy is violent and has obvious issues. I hope no matter what, they go after him as evidence allows. But they won't. He pled to dogfighting to get a lower sentence and start his good-service PR campaign. Ugh!

Britney Spears - I am sick to death of hearing about her too. She's a wreck and the fact that she is still in charge of taking care of her children is frightening. It is a sad, sad, sad state of affairs when "K-Fed" looks like the better option. Will someone please help her? I'm especially sad over her because she's about my age and in a sense, I grew up with her in the news. I nannied and babysat for girls that idolized her. Very sad. She just makes me sad.

Ok. I'm done. I hate reading the news. It just makes me mad...and depressed. So much violence. So many awful people continuing to get away with horrible things. Ugh.

Too Much To Write

2007-07-30T08:33:00.000-07:00

Do you ever have those moments in life where there are so many things going on, stuff you're dealing with good and bad, and so many thoughts swirling in your head that you have absolutely no idea where to start, much less write? I'm having such a time. I look back on the past year and a half and I'm just floored by all that has happened. It kind of makes my head spin. Yeah, I'm not even going to go into everything. I can't right now. I'm at work.

In lieu of writing anything interesting, I'm going to post some of my favorite Life's Little Instructions for your enjoyment.

- When faced with a complex problem, think simple.
- Don't waste time trying to be happy. Happiness most often comes
unplanned and unexpectedly--like a shooting star on a slient night.
- If what you're about to say won't benefit the person hearing it or improve the situation, don't say it.
- Remember that demonstrating class and showing style has little to do with money.
- Remember that you also gleam when you cause another's star to shine.
- Think of tomorrow as an irretrievable gift of 24 hours with no mistakes in it.
- Resign from the impossible job of trying to keep everyone happy.
- Never make an important decision until you have control of your emotions.
- Remember, your attitude is 90% of what people will remember about you.
- Take good care of your body; you can never trade it in for a newer model.
- A messy desk has this advantage: it offers unexpected discoveries every day.
- In the end you will be judged not by what you believed, planned, or dreamed--but by what you did.

And lastly (and the one I feel is most important to remember):
- Remember these four things about anyone you meet:
1. They're afraid of something.
2. They love something.
3. They've lost something.
4. They're dreaming of something.

Patience

2007-06-26T13:52:00.000-07:00

I have never been one to have much patience. In fact, throughout my entire life, that is usually the one repetitive complaint. Everyone from teachers (Kate is so smart and friendly, but so impatient) to friends (If you would just learn to wait…) to colleagues (Take your time. It will happen.) have all had something to say about my lack of it. In fact, I would say it is probably my worst fault.

I’m not an entirely impatient person. There are special populations and situations I think I have more patience than the average person. It really boils down to expectations. I expect waiters and waitresses to do the job they are paid to do and provide timely and decent service. I expect people to know how to generally do their job. I expect people to be on time. I expect that people communicate to some effectiveness. When people are slacking on something I am expecting them to do, I get impatient. I also hate waiting. Nothing is worse to me than standing in a long line. If someone is being nit-picky, like arguing over a sale that amounts to 10 cents in the grocery store, I have been known to offer the person the 10 cents to just let it go so the rest of us in line can get on with life. And so on. My mom recently told me I had embarrassed her in front of friends because I acted visibly impatient and mad that our waitress was taking 5x longer to perform tasks and get us things we needed (like drink, food and check) than the average experience. I wasn’t even nasty to the waitress. I simply kept asking for the things we were supposed to get…ok, and I will concede I was slightly snippy. But I was NOT making a scene.

I am also someone that learns by doing. Reading directions and following them to the last letter is never something I have done well. I rarely ever read through directions before diving into a project. While my creativity in exploring the problem might shine, it has happened on more than one occasion that I spent all of that time doing it completely wrong.

Where I do have patience is when I am not expecting something out of the person or situation. I am very patient with the elderly (except in traffic when they shouldn’t be on the road anyway and are going 20 mph UNDER the speed limit). I will wait for them, walk with them and listen to the same stories over and over again because it brings a smile to their face. I have a heart for children and all of their messiness, as well as their meanderings. And lastly, I love volunteering with special needs populations. My energy often gives them a much needed boost and understanding in life that most people do not stop to give. In return, I have been awarded some of the most special experiences.

I am also the rare calm person in emergencies. It is almost like all of my impatience does a 180 to give a peace of mind to function carefully and thoughtfully, but efficiently. I have taken care of more than my fair share of accident situations with complete strangers I just happened upon…well, perhaps I was there for a reason?

I think about that when someone starts in on me about my typical lack of patience. While I certainly try to work on my patience levels in day-to-day situations, especially when they are completely out of my control, I also have to remember that it takes everyone to make the world work. If everyone had patience with everything and waited calmly for life to come to them, what would get done? However, if everyone ran after life without pausing for a breath, we’d all keel over with heart attacks by 35.

In keeping with the theme and to give me words of wisdom on the subject of patience, I found several quotes that I liked:

Patience is the ability to endure waiting, delay, or provocation without becoming annoyed or upset, or to persevere calmly when faced with difficulties. ~Unknown

Patience will achieve more than force. ~Edmund Burke

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven. ~Ecclesiastes 3:1

Let nothing disturb thee;Let nothing dismay thee; All things pass; God never changes. Patience attains all that it strives for. ~St. Teresa de Cepeda

A handful of patience is worth more than a bushel of brains. ~Dutch Proverb

It is very strange that the years teach us patience - that the shorter our time, the greater our capacity for waiting. ~Elizabeth Taylor, "A Wreath of Roses"

We could never learn to be brave and patient, if there were only joy in the world. ~Helen Keller

There will be a time when loud-mouthed, incompetent people seem to be getting the best of you. When that happens, you only have to be patient and wait for them to self destruct. It never fails. ~Richard Rybolt

Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections but instantly set about remedying them - every day begin the task anew. ~Saint Francis de Sales

Life is all about timing…the unreachable becomes reachable, the unavailable becomes available, the unattainable…attainable. Have the patience; Wait it out. It’s all about timing. ~Stacey Charter

Patience is something you admire in the driver behind you and scorn in the one ahead. ~Mac McCleary

One moment of patience may ward off great disaster. One moment of impatience may ruin a whole life. ~Chinese Proverb

Perfectionism Take 2

2007-06-18T12:42:00.000-07:00

I often thought that I was a high achiever. Someone who’s self-high expectations were something that be admired and ultimately constructive towards reaching goals. The longer I go without throwing up and, in essence, punishing myself through self-injury, the more I realize that my problem is perfectionism.

As one description read, “High achievers are driven by a goal to achieve, whereas perfectionists are driven by a fear of failure.” Even admitting that could be true of myself is difficult because that would mean I have less than perfect thinkingJ

I recently asked someone to tell me what kind of person they saw me as. I think my ED has royally skewed not only my self-perception but also what I think other people see in me. The answer I got was somewhat surprising. In fact, I found it to be more negative than I thought it would be, but that in and of itself is another sign of my perfectionism because I can only focus on the negatives.

They said, and I’m summing it up here, that I was “impatient, aggressive (forward), easy to get irritated, high expectations of self and others, diplomatic and well-spoken, funny, nice and a good listener.” (Notice I listed the negatives first and the positives last.) It was also noted that I could possibly come across as arrogant to people around the workplace because of perceived age vs. knowledge and my confidence level.

Negative parts of my personality really bother me and probably a lot more than most other people’s own negative aspects of their personality bother them. Interesting enough, whereas I expect a lot out of myself personally, I have very low expectations of others. I let myself be surprised by those whose personality is inherently kind, courteous and helpful. I notice other people’s positive attributes far more easily than their negatives. (Unless their negative aspects far outweigh their positives…and there are those people.) It creates a very biased and unreasonable comparison between myself and other people. Moments of self-satisfaction and real, true self-esteem are few and far between.

It is interesting to note that I do not take criticism, whether constructive or otherwise, but I do not accept compliments very often either. Criticisms are devastating to me. It is the verbal acknowledgment of my mistakes and deficiencies. I have a very difficult time accepting that I make mistakes and will continue to make mistakes. Usually I do one of two things, or some combination, when I get criticism. I will 1) Obsess about what I did wrong and how it happened and immediately develop some sort of system to never let it happen again or 2) I come to the conclusion that whoever is giving me the criticism has no right to give me their comments because they do the same thing along with the “What? Do they think they are perfect?” attitude. And then I discount whatever imperfection the person pointed out because I determine they are an idiot with no frame of reference to be saying anything. I suppose you could say I am an odd combination of arrogant and self-depreciating.

And on to taking compliments; I can’t. The only way I can kind of take a compliment is if it is not paired with a negative. If it is paired with a negative, I will only hear the negative. The compliment becomes completely lost. Just to use an example, the description my friend has both negatives and positives. (Again, note that I listed the negatives first both above and just now – that’s indicative.) It reads to me like “impatient, aggressive, high expectations, etc… and then blah, blah, blah, blah. Then I’m shocked the person even bothered to list any positives because apparently all they see are negatives. Again, the only way I hear any positives are if they are not grouped with negatives.

I wish I could tell my boss that the next time he does my performance review, he needs to schedule two separate sessions. One session to focus only on positives and achievements and a separate session to go over negatives and ways to improve. I always leave performance reviews in complete despair because no matter how much I achieved, there were so many things I did wrong and didn’t achieve. There are so many things I could have done better.

I have no idea how to change this. I’ve prepped myself before things like job performance evaluations to remember my accomplishments and that everyone makes mistakes and all criticisms are said to help me succeed. And no matter how much I prep and self-talk, I STILL walk out feeling like a complete failure and confused as to why I even still have a job.

I am surprised that anyone wants to be friends with me and more readily believe and am validated when others don’t like me. Take my in-laws for example: They didn’t like me nor did they ever accept me. Over time, I thought I was the person that needed to change and couldn’t accept the fact that some personalities just don’t work together. I thought that they had every right to feel the way they felt and treat me poorly.

Like I said, I have no idea how to change this. It is as daunting to me as the thought of rewiring a house. I don’t know how to rewire much less wire a house in the first place. I wonder if it is even something I can change. Is my thought process in my genetic code? Will I ever stress less? Have less anxiety? Believe that there are people out there that love me despite my imperfections? Stop thinking that all people see is the sum of my mistakes? I don’t know. I really don't know.

2007-06-18T08:30:00.001-07:00

Where we are is so far from where we’ve been
The relentless nature of life and all it’s done
And the weather we have not withstood
And the wall that has been built between

Starting with my arms open wide
Innocent and unassuming despite the fear
Your story to that point would be the undoing
Before we even had a chance to begin

Haunted by too many words said and actions done
Cold beginning to the time I began to die
Slowly in front of your face
You did not see behind my eyes

The façade I built and you accepted
Too afraid to lose the dream
Never wanting to admit the faults and lies
And that all was not as it seemed

I am awake yet my eyes are closed
Tight for fear you will see me cry
Vulnerability I can’t bring myself to share
Too much time has passed us by

Memories float as I drift off to sleep
Promises made inside my head
Dreams of all we could have been
Are now done and I’ve put to bed

If I Were...

2007-06-18T08:27:00.000-07:00

If I were a color, I’d be…red
If I were an animal, I’d be…the fancy feast cat (long story)
If I were a landscape, I’d be…a seascape
If I were a plant, I’d be…magnolia
If I were a vehicle, I’d be…a cherry red Corvette
If I were a type of music, I’d be…smooth jazz
If I were a food item, I’d be…chocolate
If I were an article of clothing, I’d be…dress
If I were a household appliance, I’d be…a food processor
If I were a celestial object, I’d be…the sun
If I were a god or goddess, I’d be…Athena
If I were a time of day, I’d be…3:30
If I were a spice or herb, I’d be…rosemary
If I were a piece of jewelry, I’d be…an heirloom
If I were a toy, I’d be…a doll
If I were a shape, I’d be…an oval

Tea and Sugar

2007-06-13T12:17:00.000-07:00

I have gotten in the habit of having tea at my desk every day right around 3. My mom got me this cafe cup from Tea Forte along with an assortment of teas to try and I've been using this time to relax and try all of the teas.

While the water is heating, I eye the sugar dispenser longingly wishing to put real sugar in my tea. While wistfully gazing, the microwave beeps and I get the water out and begin seeping the tea pyramid. I continue to contemplate using real sugar instead of artificial sweetener debating in my head the wonderful taste vs. the guilt after indulging. The argument in my head is ridiculous. I mean for crying out loud, it is a f-ing teaspoon of sugar! USE THE DAMN SUGAR!!!!!!!!!

And then I grab the pink Sweet 'n Low packet and head back to my desk.

Religion and Chick-Fil-A

2007-05-30T12:39:00.000-07:00

If you've ever had Chick-Fil-A, you know why many people absolutely love it. I am one of them. I wanted to post the article below for two reasons: 1) I have gotten the occasional annoyance when I really want one of those chicken sandwiches on Sunday and 2) I think this is a great illustration of how any faith should be at work in other people's lives.

No need for separation of church and chicken
Issue Date: 04-25-2007; Section: Editorial Section; Rachael Brady, Opinion Editor

Nearly every Sunday, I subconsciously sabotage myself into the misery of an
unsatisfied craving for Chick-fil-a.

Since the dine-in Chick-fil-a opened on Patteson Drive last year, I've actually shown up in the empty parking lot. Twice. But I should have known better.

Anyone who knows of the fast-food chain and its chickeny goodness also knows of its affiliation with the Christian faith. Specifically, the corporation's mission statement pledges to ''glorify God by being a faithful steward of all that is entrusted to us and to have a positive influence on all
who come in contact with Chick-fil-a.''

Founder S. Truett Cathy is a devout Southern Baptist, and so in accordance with his beliefs and the company's mission statement, all Chick-fil-a locations are closed on Sunday, the Christian Sabbath. Monday through Saturday, those who dine in get an earful of God's glory, as the restaurant always has Christian-themed pop-sounding music wafting on the breeze alongside the alluring smells of chicken and waffle fries.

Normally, when aspects of the Christian faith -- or any religion -- are thrust into my life without invitation, I get a little bit cranky. I'm old enough and smart enough now that if I wanted to be converted to your religion, I'd have figured it out by now.

So when a Jehovah's witness shows up on my doorstep, I politely turn down the offers for conversation/conversion. And when an old guy in a suit jacket tries to hand me a tiny Bible, I politely decline. All the while, I'm miffed that someone out there thinks they know just exactly ''what's missing'' in my life.

Somehow, though, Chick-fil-a has gotten it right. No one from the corporation is beating down any doors for converts, and they don't distribute printed materials about faith or damnation while you eat.

What they will actually do while you eat, though, is refill your drink, dump your tray or even must carry on a polite conversation. The people of Chick-fil-a have taken an essential part of Christianity -- the Golden Rule of treating others as you would like to be treated -- and they've made it their mantra. And they're not preachy or pushy; they're just polite.

It's refreshing to see people who are most happy to display their religion by example rather than through radical, alienating evangelism. Most people don't want to be approached by strangers about how they may be living their lives in sin. Most people don't feel like divulging personal secrets and entrusting their spiritual lives to people they've never even met. Most of us just need to be permitted to live our lives and learn our own lessons.

And some of us, along the way, want to eat some chicken. So Chick-fil-a is, all-around, the purveyor of good news that all Christians should be. If you want a tasty chicken sandwich, there's no need to worry about choking down a lesson on moral values with it. Chick-fil-a exhibits its Christian values with its excellent service, and that's that. The other things -- the ''no business on Sunday'' rule, the music and the occasional Veggie Tales kid's meal toy -- are
mere peripherals which have no real effect on any consumer.

The Christianity is offered, though unspoken, and there are no hard feelings if you leave it rather than take it. If you've never experienced the service at Chick-fil-a, I urge you to do so. You'll find that everything you ask for is someone's pleasure to provide to you. The entire experience is simply delicious. Here, have some chicken. Fries? My pleasure. Dipping sauce? Of
course. How about some salvation through Jesus Christ? No? All right, well, have a nice day. And you're on your way.

So when Sunday rolls around and I'm jonesin' for some chicken strips and waffle fries, I do my best to shrug the craving off. Each time I realize my Sunday craving just isn't meant to be satiated, I gain a little respect for the place, despite my empty stomach.

Tagged

2007-05-23T13:41:00.001-07:00

I have had the privilege of being tagged by ldissing, so in 15 minutes or less, you will get as many "I ams" that I can come up with:

I am a woman

I am adopted

I am a product of both nature and nurture

I am a daughter

I am a daughter of God

I am extremely sensitive

I am highly empathetic

I am in recovery from an eating disorder

I am a perfectionist

I am a private person with my emotions

I am an open person with my affections

I am a good listener

I am a good writer

I am someone who loves to eat

I am working in the motorsports industry around too much testosterone

I am smart

I am looking forward to the long weekend

I am thankful for all of those people in my life that have supported me throughout my battle with bulimia

I am someone who likes to have a good time

I am a lover of humor…especially sarcastic humor

I am wondering where my life is going

I am amazed at grace

I am allowing myself to be more open

I am having a difficult time thinking of more “I am’s”

I am being interrupted by a co-worker

I am glad it is almost 5

I am learning how to be “me” again

I am feeling good

I am unsure of who to tag

I am out of time!

Don’t know how insightful this was, but was fun to do. Have a great Memorial Day weekend!

Extreme Emotional Sensitivity

2007-05-23T08:59:00.000-07:00

I have finally truly figured out where I get my ideas that people expect so much out of me...even if they really don't. I read an article and the lightbulb went off.

The article is entitled "Gifted Children and Sensitivity" (I was considered a gifted child.)

Your gifted child may very well be both emotionally sensitive and intellectually sensitive; that is, acutely aware of everything in his environment and within himself.

Intellectual sensitivity refers to an openness to ideas, which allows your child to be receptive to his own imaginative creativity and that of others. Emotional and social sensitivity -- an acute awareness of other people and the environment -- allows a child to sense the emotional temperature in a room, heightened tension, for example.

Heightened emotional and social sensitivity affects your child's perception of expectations from peers, parents, and other adults, and may be accompanied by heightened vulnerability to criticism, suggestions, and emotional appeals from others. One problem is that well-meaning parents, relatives, friends, siblings, and teachers are often eager to add their own expectations to the bright child's own dreams, plans, and goals. Sometimes, the greater the child's talent, the greater the expectations and outside interference.

Keep in mind that although your child may be emotionally sensitive, it does not make him emotionally mature. His reactions and behavior to people and events may be age appropriate but seem immature when compared to his sophisticated intellectual and emotional awareness. When we understand just how much gifted children absorb from every environment, we can support them in times of stress.

I not only am abnormally sensitive to other's emotions but I take things so hard on a level that most people cannot understand. I have been asked repeatedly why I take things so hard and why I dwell on things that other's say...even if know them to not be true. I truly have an inability or deficiency to process criticism. I also react poorly to emotional appeals and fall prey to giving into things because I can't stand hurting someone else. I get pain two-fold because I already feel bad about hurting them, but then I literally get their hurt back too.

I would still gather that even though I am very emotionally sensitive, I still am very emotionally immature in a lot of respects. I used my eating disorder as an outlet for not having to deal with my emotions...or feeling other's emotions for that matter.

I'm going to end this post with a quote about us sensitive types:

"The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive.
To him...
a touch is a blow,
a sound is a noise,
a misfortune is a tragedy,
a joy is an ecstasy,
a friend is a lover,
a lover is a god,
and failure is death.

Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create - - - so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, his very breath is cut off from him. He must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency he is not really alive unless he is creating."

-Pearl Buck-

On Judging Others...

2007-05-16T08:14:00.000-07:00

I am going to write about a topic that I usually avoid. I avoid this particular topic because it is a very deeply personal issue and one that brings up strong feelings in other individuals as well as within myself.

I am speaking about Christianity, judgment and forgiveness. Let me start out by saying that I am a Christian. I believe in God, Jesus as his son and that he died so that other’s might live and be saved through God’s grace. (Please note I said we are saved by GOD’s grace…not because we did anything to deserve it, because we asked for it, or because we worked for it.) My faith journey has been one of peaks and valleys and much monotony in-between. As I child, I understood faith as a child, simply allowing God to be a part of my life, going to church and marveling at Biblical stories. As a young teen, I was active in church, church choirs, Fellowship of Christian Athletes, Bible Study groups, mission trips, etc… Even later on in my teen years, prior to college, I tried to keep my faith simple focusing on trying to make Christ-like decisions, treat other’s with dignity and respect and sharing my faith if felt called to do so.

My understanding of Christianity stemmed from a more reformed idea of what it means to be loved by God, saved by grace and living by example. I think most people prior to college would say several things about me. 1) I definitely was not perfect, but that I strived to make my faith a part of my life. 2) That I did not judge. I made mistakes; Friends made mistakes. But the most important part was that no matter what, God’s grace was always a safe haven to turn to in times of despair, hopelessness and sin. 3) I hung out with a variety of people no matter who you were, what you looked like and where you were at in your faith…even if you had any at all. I try to have a sincere appreciation for the human population as a whole and learned VERY early on that looks are very deceiving when it comes to being surprised by kindness and care.

My faith was greatly tested when I went off to college. I went to a very small, Lutheran college in NE Iowa. To say the least, I really did not want to go to this school and I knew this deep in my heart, but did because my boyfriend went there and I thought it would be good for us. Due to some low-self esteem and perfectionist tendencies, I started to rebel against myself and made a few mistakes very early on. I tried to turn to the people of the college and the faith community. I was rejected. My mistakes (or sins if you will) caused several people to say some very terrible things to me. My humanness was not acceptable despite having a very deep and long-standing faith in Christ. One person actually had the arrogance and audacity to tell me that I was going to hell. All of my notions about the people in God's church were challenged and I quit going. If people were going to run the church by their ideas of who was and was not acceptable to walk through those doors and into God's arms, I wanted no part of it. I began to think like those people that I had tried so desperately hard to show otherwise...that church was a place to feel bad about yourself. Church was for those that considered themselves above sin and that us sinners may as well go on sinning. There was no hope from Christians. Fortunately a wonderful husband and wife team challenged me to join their Bible Study and get back involved in the Bible. They showed me the next two years what real Grace and Love was all about. They talked less and demonstrated a lot.

Ok, so let’s back up a few minutes. Who were these people judging me and what specifically were they judging? Let’s start with possibility #1. I had sex with my long-term boyfriend before marriage…nope that couldn’t be it because they were friend’s of his and all of them had done the same thing. Possibility #2. I broke up with this boyfriend after having a mental breakdown and cutting myself. Ok, well…I don’t recall calling off a relationship a “sin” and my personal struggles with self-blame really weren’t anyone else’s struggle but my own…so that couldn’t be it. Possibility #3. I began dating another very nice gentleman and therefore hurt the ex-boyfriend. That one is a stretch because I wasn’t acting out with the new boyfriend, no was I sleeping around, nor was I getting drunk. I was leveling out in normalcy. Possibility #4. The people that said these things to me had an ulterior motive. Ding, ding, ding…we have a winner!

I have a theory you see, that people that make an issue of judging others when they have NO RIGHT whatsoever to do so, are actually doing one of several things:

1) They are fundamentally uncomfortable with themselves and some of their own struggles and therefore displace their own insecurities on pointing out other’s shortcomings.
2) They are currently committing a sin that they wish to be kept secret and distract other’s by pointing fingers at other people.
3) They are arrogant in their own faith and build themselves up morally by pointing out how righteous they are and how other’s fall short or
4) They deep down feel they are doing right and carrying out God’s judgment on sins by “caring” enough about you to tell you that they don’t “agree” or “condone” your actions, but God has given them enough love so that they can love you in spite of your sinful nature.

There are very few people in my life that have earned the earthly right by loving me unconditionally over a very, very long period of time, who I know have absolutely no ulterior motive for working through my mistakes with me and lovingly point out that I am hurting others and myself with a decision. Those people are my parents, my godmother and our long-time Pastor friend and his wife. I am loved by those people no matter what. If they ever say anything to me about my life or disagreeing with a particular decision, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they simply care. All of these people have shown by example that they do not think they are perfect and would expect the same sort of feedback about their own actions from me or their own accountability partners.

But let’s go back to the 4 possibilities of why some people feel it is their right and perhaps “God-given” duty to reign judgment or take every opportunity possible to let you know how much they disagree and are disappointed with your choices, but “they love you anyway.” THAT people, right there, is what has the possibility of turning otherwise faith striving people into angry, bitter people who want to run away screaming from the Church and from so called Christian people.

I am reading a book right now by Christian theologian Philip Yancey called, “What’s So Amazing About Grace?” It is a follow-up to his book, “The Jesus I Never Knew” which goes back to what the Gospels really have to say about Jesus and His ministry. My mom and I are actually starting a book/Bible study on the Grace book. The very first chapter, the very first opening story tells of a woman with a young daughter… I want to say the daughter is 3 or 4 years old. The woman herself sells her own body for money, but she is also selling her daughter to people for several times more per hour than she can make herself in a day. Deep down, she knew this was wrong but saw no other choice to keep both her and her daughter fed. At a shelter she ended up at, a well-intentioned person suggested she get help from a church. The woman nearly spat as she said, “Why would I go to church? They would just make me feel worse!”

The author then asks, “What has happened to the modern day church?” Why are those that need to be in church the most and hear the message of God’s grace and salvation running the opposite direction screaming? Why have I even stopped going to church in times when I have needed the grace and understanding of God and the people who claim to be his followers? The answer is very simple. Church has become a place where many people feel they can only go when they have their life straightened out. Everyday sinners, such as myself, only feel comfortable going when there is no possibility of fellow church-goers to look at others and make a judgment. “Oooh, did you hear that Harry gambled away $10,000? No wonder he won’t show his face in church.” Or “Did you hear that Jane had an affair?” Or, “I hear that Tom and Sarah’s Billy got picked up for a DUI. How embarrassing. Well, they should have had more control.” And all the while, these people that have made some visible mistakes feel that they can’t go back to church for fear of ridicule, judgment, nosiness, inappropriate comments, and those that seek to rub it in.

That should NOT be the message we are sending to God’s children. People that have made mistakes should feel like church is the place they should go to get a hug despite themselves. People should feel free in the understanding that God forgives whether we acknowledge it or not. And who are these people that think they are so almighty that they get to reign out judgment?

The Bible said that no sin is lesser than another. All sins are equal in God’s eyes. All sins cause us to fall short of the glory of God. Lazy people might as well steal. Angry people may as well commit murder. Those glancing lustfully at someone else for 2 seconds may as well have an affair. Gluttonous people might as well be alcoholics. Gossips should just go ahead and slandarize God and take his name in vein.

You might be reading these and saying some have more consequences to others. Yes, that is true. On this earth, certain decisions affect those around you more than others. There are earthly consequences to murder and thievery. You have the likelihood of jail time or in the case of murder, the death penalty. An affair can rip apart a family. Alcoholics can go into a rage and beat or emotionally abuse the people in their lives that they supposedly love the most.

But what about the “lesser” sins that are not as obvious to others. Laziness that causes someone to not want to work and therefore put a family in financial jeopardy. Anger that unintentionally splinters and abuses a loved one’s heart. Neglectful behavior that causes a spouse to feel unloved and worthless. Arrogance that causes another to feel diminished. Continued unhealthy lifestyles where overweight people have health problems that could cause them to die or not be able to help those that they love. Gossiping that is unwarranted, untrue or really no one else’s business that ruins someone’s reputation. ALL of these and so many more cause equal amounts of destruction. The problem is, like emotional scars, they are not as visible to those around or those on the outside.

I have encountered more than my fair share of judgment from other’s who never took the time to understand a situation or dig into the “real” story. People see my marriage falling apart. I’m sure some blame me. After all, I’ve made some big mistakes; I have allowed an eating disorder to rule my life for 7 years and I have been neglectful of myself and those around me because I’ve been so buried in my own head. I left my husband, and that alone is enough to make people think that I am an awful sinner. After all, I promised to love, honor and cherish until death do us part.

Yes, that all is true. I have committed many sins and not upheld parts of my bargain. But as with everything in life, every relationship, every marriage, it is a two-way street. Both parties have decisions. While some poor choices are visible, no one but the two people in the relationship know all of the things not so visible. What others don’t see or don’t hear about might be years of emotional neglect. What other’s don’t see is that the other has been cheating and hiding for a decade an addiction to pornography that has chipped away at the other’s self-esteem and been part of the fuel for an eating disorder, other self-injurious behavior and cheapening the act of sex. What other’s might not see is a person in such despair who has asked for help and been rejected. What other’s might not see is a refusal by one to place their marriage and sanctity of that relationship above all else. To treat others better than the spouse. To use children as an excuse to not have to be a husband/wife. All they see are the other person’s desperation in finding anything to save them, to keep them alive. And those decisions are probably at that point going to be a poor choice(s).

Is it really helpful at any point to condemn? Is it really going to draw people to God’s grace to re-iterate their wrongs and how much you disagree with certain choices? Is it really at all necessary to have any comment whatsoever on a situation that you really do not understand because it is NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS to know all of the depths of issues and problems between other people? Are you really acting with Christ-like behavior?

I would instead challenge those with too many opinions to first examine themselves and ask their real motivation for pointing out other’s mistakes and re-iterating over and over how much you “disagree” and are “disappointed” with another’s behavior? Is it truly an act of love or is it deflection or arrogance? Or both?

God’s kingdom is wonderfully made up of all types. We all have our mistakes. We all have our pasts. And to be honest, until the day we die, we are all going to continue to make mistakes, continue to hurt others, and continue to hurt ourselves. None of us are even remotely close to perfection. Our decisions will have consequences and some of them might be fierce. But I am very content in the knowledge that I am God’s child. He loves me and will welcome me with open arms no matter the state I am in. The only thing I can do to bring a little heaven on earth is by sharing that same attitude with others. Love, grace and an open heart of forgiveness is what changes lives. Reflecting the love that Christ showed to all types of people including prostitutes, tax collectors, the poor, the weak, the disgraced, the helpless, and so many other sinners and those society deemed as a waste of time is what I believe is our highest calling. Above all else love, love deeply and without selfishness. And for heaven's sake, quit talking so much! A more impactful statement is made by simply living and leading through example.

Someone said it best with, "God gave us TWO ears and ONE mouth for a reason."

God Bless.

Eating Disorder Forum

2007-05-11T12:46:00.000-07:00

I found this transcript of an online conference about eating disorders to be interesting and helpful. The guest was "Aimee Liu, author of the bestseller: "Gaining: The Truth About Life After Eating Disorders." Ms. Liu suffered from severe anorexia as a teen, thought she had recovered, then faced a severe relapse in her 40s. Now she says "I’m fully recovered.""

Here are some of the parts I found most insightful and personally helpful.

Natalie: So our audience members understand, Aimee – when you were 19, how did you get to the point in your mind where you said “I really need help.”

Aimee Liu: In 1973, I reached what psychologist Sheila Reindl calls the “limit of distress.” That summer, following my sophomore year at Yale, I had designed my life to accommodate the demands of anorexia. I’d broken up with my boyfriend, pushed my friends and family away. As a painting major, I argued that I needed the summer to be alone and paint.
I earned money working in a room by myself, matting prints for the Yale Art gallery. I house sat for vacationing faculty. And I painted in the otherwise empty undergraduate art studio. I ate less than minimally and walked miles back and forth to the studio every day.
One very hot evening in August, I reached the center of campus and noticed that I was all alone. Everyone else in the university, it seemed, was away on vacation. The whole city seemed to have emptied to escape the heat. I felt a crippling wave of loneliness, and it dawned on me that I had done this to myself, that the compulsion to avoid food and keep losing weight was making me unbearably miserable.

Although I didn’t consciously connect the dots, emotionally I sensed that what I was avoiding was not really food but human contact; what I was so desperately afraid of was not weight but the risk of exposing myself to others – and yet what I most craved was human contact and intimacy. So I was denying myself what I most desperately wanted and needed.
It was a very, very distinct sensation and a very particular moment in my memory, and I’ve since learned that most people who recover can recall a specific turning point like this when they DECIDE they have to change. What’s critical to understand, though, is that this turning point is only the beginning of a very long and variable process of recovery.
Natalie: What kind of help did you initially get for the eating disorder?
Aimee Liu: In 1973, I had never heard of anorexia or eating disorders, even though I’d been watching many of my classmates starving, bingeing, and purging since junior high school.
One of my high school classmates had been hospitalized -- but she’d returned with her face bloated from drugs, and no one ever mentioned what was wrong with her or what had been done to her in treatment. Another girl in a class behind me died from anorexia while I was in college. Still, no one named the problem, and when I did approach the doctors at the university, they ran me through a battery of tests and informed me that I “should gain a little weight.” And although I’d daydreamed in high school about talking to a therapist, my family would not hear of this. So when I reached my turning point, it did not occur to me to seek professional help. Instead, I tried to think of the happiest, healthiest people I knew who would not judge or reject me for seeking their company.

Over the next two years, I watched these “normal” friends eat and party and talk, and I tried to imitate them, spending less time by myself, seeking out people who made me feel good and accepted. Two months after that summer turning point, I fell in love with a grad student who was so exuberant, so joyful, that I learned what it means to revel in life. He eventually broke my heart and I crashed hard, but in the meantime I’d learned enough from him to avoid sinking all the way back into anorexia. Instead, I became bulimic for several years. I wrote Solitaire as I was phasing out of bulimia – still on my own, with no therapy.

Natalie: And at that time, we’re talking about the early 1980’s, did you feel confident that you had beat this thing?

Aimee Liu: When Solitaire was published in 1979, I was 25, and I did think I was cured. As many people I’ve interviewed have found, it is enormously therapeutic to write out one’s entire life story, to tell the whole truth in one’s own words, and to see the connections between things that others have done to us and the behaviors that so often crop up in response, as well as the choices we make to excuse or cover up those events and behaviors.

But as important as it is to make sense of one’s past, the bigger challenge is to adjust one’s present choices and to develop the strength of identity and the skills to move forward. I’m talking about genuine self-awareness. And what I couldn’t admit at the end of Solitaire was that this level of self-awareness still eluded me. I was still faking a lot of my confidence, still trying on and throwing off different roles and jobs and relationships in an attempt to find one that would tell me who I was. What I did not realize until many years later, when I wrote GAINING, was that I was still restricting, bingeing, and purging – but I was doing it with sex, work, friends, alcohol, and exercise, instead of with food.

This persistent tendency to punish oneself and inflict suffering on one’s body for feeling imperfect in life…this is what I now call the half-life of eating disorders.

Natalie: Aimee, you reach your 40s, and bam!, here comes the anorexia again. Was getting to the point of saying “I need help” harder this time around than the first time? If so, why? Or why not?

Aimee Liu: I do not think it’s an accident that anorexia struck again when I separated from my husband after 20 years together. It did not strike when our marital struggles began a year earlier. It did not strike when we began therapy. It struck when I found myself alone with myself and realized I still had no idea who I was!
T
his, I’ve since learned, is exceedingly common among people with only partially resolved histories of eating disorders – who have been leaning on a spouse or partner to supply or prop up their sense of self. What was crucially different for me this time around was the therapist my husband and I were already seeing. He was not an eating disorder specialist, but he was a tremendously empathic and wise individual who refused to indulge me when I joked about the “benefits of the divorce diet.”

At his insistence, I stepped back and learned to observe what I was doing without judging or denying it. I learned to be interested in my actions and feelings instead of running from them. Fortunately, I had not lost a great deal of weight and was nowhere near a dangerously low weight, so my brain was in good shape to cooperate with my mind in this process. I was in psychological but not physical distress, and that made it much, much easier to commit to therapy. I realized just how much of my life had been short-changed by my failure to enter therapy when I was in my teens. Better late than never!

Natalie: Just so we’re all on the same page, how are you defining “recovery” from an eating disorder?

Aimee Liu: I call my book GAINING because I really do think that the ability – eagerness, even – to “gain” in all areas of life is a good definition of recovery. Note that I say gaining in “life” because I think that eating disorders are seated in core anxieties over what it means to be alive. Someone who is fully recovered embraces genuine (as opposed to superficial) gains in confidence, trust, intimacy, personal power, perspective, insight, faith, joy, nourishment, health, peace, love, and pleasures of the body and mind. Crucially, she makes choices in life out of desire, passion, compassion, and love instead of fear. She does not confuse perfection with suffering, nor does she feel she must measure up to some external standard of perfection.

Natalie: Since the mind can play tricks on you, how does one know if they’ve truly recovered?

Aimee Liu: There are so many signs!
- Can you sit quietly with yourself and be at peace?
- Can you face a significant problem or decision or experience stress without obsessing about your body or what you’ve just eaten or are planning to eat?
- Do you exercise because you honestly enjoy the activity – and not because you’ll feel “guilty” if you don’t?
- Can you look at your body with appreciation for all that it does, and not berate yourself for how it looks?
- Can you be open and intimate with those you love, without worrying about how they’ll judge you?
- Can you enter an argument without feeling that you either have to dominate or disappear?
- Are you able to joke about your human failings and your flaws without secretly feeling ashamed of them?

Natalie: One audience member asked this question Aimee: Many of us are told that recovery is an "ongoing process" that never ends. Yet, you speak about having fully recovered as "being cured." Do you see it that way?

Aimee Liu: What never ends are the temperament traits that make us vulnerable to eating disorders. Scientists liken an eating disorder to a gun.
Genetics, which account for around 60% of one’s vulnerability, manufacture the gun;
Environment, which includes family dynamics, fashion magazines, social and cultural attitudes, loads the gun; and
The personal experience of unbearable distress pulls the trigger.
Genetics combine with family dynamics to create the personality types that are most at risk. We have these personalities as long as we live, but once we learn to re-direct our core traits -- perfectionism, hyper-sensitivity, persistence -- to goals and values that have genuine meaning TO US... then we become protected against the eating disorder.
Many of us start to relapse instinctively under intense stress, but if we know this tendency is there -- and that it's a natural attempt to cope -- we can redirect the instinct . It helps to develop an arsenal of positive, constructive coping mechanisms -- true friends, passions, interests, music, etc -- that can help us through the bad times. These are "life skills" that will help anyone; we just need to work harder to learn them!

Natalie: You interviewed 40 people, women and men, who you knew from your youth. One of the things that really struck me, was the common theme of “shame” that each felt. Shame that they had an eating disorder. Shame that they shied away from intimacy or had a compulsion to be perfect. Could you talk about that?

Aimee Liu: In general, I’ve found, an eating disorder is a response to shame. In other words, the shame comes first. The shame is in the body and mind before the eating becomes disordered. So the shame that may develop about the eating disorder is usually an extension of distress that runs much deeper. People need to understand that an eating disorder is a coping mechanism. No one chooses to become anorexic or bulimic. It’s that experience of unbearable distress that triggers the obsession with body and food as an escape or distraction or attempt to reconcile pressures that cannot be reconciled. Usually that unbearable distress involves shame.
Several of the people I interviewed had, like me, been molested as children. Others had been sent to fat farms as children and told by their parents that no one would love them if they didn’t lose weight. Others had struggled since childhood with shame over their sexuality. Some had been shamed by parents because they did not sufficiently mirror the parents’ values or appearance.

The persistence of an eating disorder is a signal that the underlying shame is still driving one’s thoughts and behavior. And of course, because this group is perfectionistic, any residual problems are seen as imperfections and thus a source of further shame! That cycle can be broken, however, if we treat eating disorders as natural signals, instead of as character flaws.

Natalie: From guests we interview during our monthly chats, it’s not uncommon to hear “don’t give up hope. There’s reason for hope.” When it comes to having anorexia or bulimia, why should anyone believe that?

Aimee Liu: The best evidence comes from neuroscience, and it’s not remotely trite. The brain has an almost miraculous ability to change, and researchers are finding that we hold the keys to that change within our minds. I have met many, many gifted therapists who have helped people who have been sick for decades. Therapies such as dialectic behavior training (DBT), equine therapy, the Maudsley Method, and mindful awareness practices are showing tremendously promising results. But the brain cannot rewire itself over night or, in most cases, without a good therapist. And no one can “cure” someone who is unwilling to change. An eating disorder masquerades as an identity and it offers a compelling illusion of escape and comfort. You have to be willing to give up that illusion and take the risk of developing a healthy identity – as long as that takes. One of the obstacles to recovery I hear over and over is the notion that there is a moment when one is “recovered.” Recovery is not a grade, or a state, or a status to be attained – it is an ongoing process that begins from the turning point when you decide you have simply had enough.

A young woman who wrote to me recently described this process best: “We have trained ourselves to empower our minds/bodies to restrict the foods, now we have to use that same power to re-feed ourselves. In other words, the reason we develop these disorders in most cases is to have power, and what we need to do instead of complaining or saying we can't, is just training the power to be used in a different way.” That way leads to life instead of loss, love instead of isolation, self-direction instead of self-denial, and hope instead of shame. It’s all part of the process not just of recovery but of being fully human.

On being perfect...

2007-05-07T08:03:00.000-07:00

One of my faithful blog readers posted writing about “If there is anything I am perfect at, it is being imperfect.”

Yesterday I went on a journey through emails and journal entries I wrote last year. Exchanges with people while I was trying to figure out what was wrong with me, make sense out of my decisions and to see how far I have come in terms of my thinking. What struck me the most was how completely and totally hard I was on myself about everything. All relationships, failed friendships, bad decisions, etc…were all my fault. Completely my fault.

I found one particular exchange with a friend writing about how my marriage was failing due to my eating disorder. I called myself in this email “stupid and selfish.” In other emails I lamented how my husband was “great” and I was throwing away a perfectly good life and person. I was the one constantly screwing up. I was the one who couldn’t get a grip. I was the one who f-ed up everything.

While it sounds like a depressing exercise to undertake, it was a rather cathartic experience seeing the journey and transformation my mind has undergone over the past 15 months. While I still have trouble with too much self-blame or “perfectionism,” I have more of an ability to evaluate situations at face value, take my share of the responsibility, but let others have their share of accountability.

My husband, who I am separated from at this time, has asked me for a couple of months now (since I left) to write him emails back, even if they are angry. He invited me to write to vent or say things I needed to say to him. I hadn’t taken him up on the offer for fear of “hurting his feelings” or rather deep down knowing that it was going to be an exercise in futility. He wrote me over and over again how he is “so much stronger than I give him credit for.” That “he can take whatever it is I have to say.”

Well, finally he wrote me a short email that really ticked me off. He asked if I had found another counselor. (My previous therapist was not on the new insurance list when we switched over.) I replied that no I hadn’t and he responded angrily with, “I don’t understand why you are not looking for a counselor because that is the most important part of your recovery. You were willing to leave me because you said you would get better, but you’re not doing anything else.” Not that he didn’t have a point about looking for a counselor, but it was the judgmental tone that I was upset about. He didn’t do ANYTHING for 9 months yet he had the audacity to talk to me like that. I was mad. So I did what he asked. I wrote him an email about my feelings solely pertaining to the time between May 6, 2006 (when I told him about my eating disorder) and up to the point when I left at the beginning of Feb. I wrote about how his neglect and avoidance made me feel worthless and that his excuses on why he wasn’t available to me when I asked for his help made it even worse.

He responded with the most subtly cruel and sarcastic email I have ever received with such rantings like: “Now you are judging me and psycho analyzing me and my ability to deal with the bomb you dropped in my lap” “Don’t put our marriage 100% on my shoulders. And for the love of God don’t sit there and say that your health problems are in my hands.” “Are you perfect? This is the real world Kate. This is how people deal with things. People make mistakes.” “If you are to proud of your analysis of our lives together to give me a second chance then I will continue to wait and hope that eventually you realize what a blessing you are simply dismissing as a passive aggressive man that holds no value to someone like you.”

The part that really got to me was him having to deal with “the bomb that I dropped on his lap. Like I purposefully gave him something to deal with that messed up his life. What I wanted to say back was, “Life is full of bombs. That is the real world. Something could happen at any given moment that changes your life or your paradigm that you’ve been operating under.” Does it take people 9 months to deal with a BOMB???

I go back to the fact that my parents, in their late 20’s, had to deal with the news that my mom had endometriosis. She was going to have to have her entire reproductive system removed to save her life and that meant that she could never have her own children. My mom and dad had to deal with the fact that all of their hopes and dreams for building a family were done…at least in the way that they had planned. THAT is a bomb. That is a HUGE bomb.

When I relayed my husband’s email to my dad, I asked him a few questions. My parents, while always supporting me, are not happy with my decision to leave and separate. They are very religious and fundamentally believe that you should give a marriage every opportunity to succeed. I can also relay many things back to them that my husband says or does, but it is still my take on it. I forwarded his email to both of my parents so they could see in HIS own words what I’ve had to deal with. But I asked my dad a few things. “Dad, when you and mom found out she was sick, I’m sure that was a pretty big life bomb was it not? And I’m sure that you, being a guy who can’t go through the same thing, really didn’t understand the complexities and emotional hardships my mom would have to go through. I’m sure you were scared and confused yourself. But Dad, I’m willing to bet that no matter how much you didn’t understand, didn’t know what would happen in the future and questioned your own ability to deal, that you were there for my mom. I bet you went to every doctor appointment with her. I bet you held her as she cried. I bet you were there with her during her surgery. I bet you waited on her during her recovery. I bet you researched and tried to understand as best you could. And I bet that you worked with her to reshape your goals and dreams for a family and helped determine the next course of action. AND, I bet you did most of this without my mom having to ask because you saw her hurt and wanted to do everything to make sure #1 that she was ok.”

My dad had nothing to say but yes. I then went on to say that, “someone not understanding and thinking something is too big of a bomb to deal with is not an excuse to not be there. I don’t even understand that line of thinking.” My husband should have no matter the problems in our marriage, no matter how much he was scared, no matter how much he didn’t understand, should have been concerned about my failing healthy first and foremost. He should have taken charge and just done for me…without me even having to spell out every single thing. His email was a load of excuses of every reason why he couldn’t be there and placed all of the blame on me. I didn’t tell him what I needed. I didn’t communicate to him. I dropped all of my problems in his lap. I didn’t help myself. Etc… In many respects, he was right. I didn’t communicate a lot to him because I didn’t know how to in a healthy manner. I was sick both mentally and physically. I barely understood myself what I had done. That’s part of the problem of an eating disorder. But one thing I did do was try. I got myself to counseling. I got myself into a doctor. I did tell him about my problem and I did ask for help even though I didn’t know exactly what help I needed. It took him until the day I walked out to even research ANYTHING about bulimia or ask about my counseling or my doctor appointments.

Wow…I’ve completely gone away from my original intent. I guess I needed to write about all of that. My original point was going to be this. I expected myself to be perfect to my standards of perfection. I expected myself to be everything to everyone and everything they need without expectations of that ever being returned. I expected myself to know through all of my disorder and messed up way of thinking that I should be the one responsible for the care of myself and that I needed to save my marriage because it was the Biblically right thing to do.

But you know what? I am not perfect. I can’t live up to my own expectations. And I can’t live up to other’s expectations whether real or perceived. I am so excited about saying that because I have found freedom in my imperfections. I have found freedom in the fact that no matter how much people try to make me responsible, because in the past I’ve let them, that I don’t have to tolerate it. I am free to make decisions, perfect or not, right or wrong. I am beginning to enjoy life and all of its messiness and imperfections again and I am enjoying just being me again. Perfect or not, being me is just fine.

May We All Be Coffee

2007-05-04T06:33:00.000-07:00

I got this as a forward this morning and really liked it. Indeed "May we all be coffee."

A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved, a new one arose.

Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire Soon the pots came to boil. In the first she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil; without saying a word. In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, "Tell me what you see." "Carrots, eggs, and coffee," she replied. Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft. The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard boiled egg. Finally, the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma.

The daughter then asked, "What does it mean, mother?" Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity: boiling water. Each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak. The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water, they had changed the water.

"Which are you?" she asked her daughter. "When adversity knocks onyour door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean? Think of this: Which am I? Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength? Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and hardened heart? Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor.

If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you. When the hour is the darkest and trials are their greatest, do you elevate yourself to another level? How do you handle adversity? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean.

May we all be COFFEE.

The Problem of Pain

2007-04-23T09:09:00.000-07:00

I bought a copy of C.S. Lewis's book "The Problem of Pain." In it, he tackles the question of "Why must we suffer?" I am always interested in a philosophical approach to examining life's questions. To me, C.S. Lewis is someone who's thoughts and examinations of difficult topics are thought provoking, somewhat scandalous and are sure to get me to examine my own life in a new way. I'm sure as I get more into the book, I will have some postings with quotes and my thoughts.

Conversations with Mother

2007-04-23T09:08:00.000-07:00

My mom wrote me an email the other day asking if I would want to do a book study with her. I have been rather angry at my mom for several weeks now. She rarely says anything about my eating disorder, but instead seems to focus on trying to revive my failed marriage. A marriage, that by all measure, has been a major contributor to my eating disorder and the myriad of issues behind it.

I knew by the tone, that my mom was seeking connection. I love my mom, even when I don’t understand her, and above all have been rather hurt by her actions as of late. I thought this might be a good opportunity for us to do some much needed bonding. (At times, I fight admitting that I need her even as an adult…lots!) She also went on to ask if I wanted to get together with her and go to an art show in town. So I agreed…

Our time together started ok, then got awkward as she tried to ask me indirect questions about how I was doing. I figured I should just talk. Continuing to hold back from people, especially the ones that are supposed to love and care about you more than anything, is never going to get me anywhere. So I talked and vented and explained.

We were interrupted by an unexpected call from a cousin who was in town for the day with her boyfriend. Since neither my mom nor I had seen her in 4 years, we cut our time short to go meet her. After a rather lengthy conversation, my mom finally took me back to my car in a Target parking lot. Before I could leave she asked me a question. A question that she’s been wanting to ask, but perhaps fearful to do so because of the response she might get.

She looked at me and asked, “Have I or have both Dad and I contributed in any way to what you are struggling with? Are there things we have said or done, or not done that aided in your eating disorder? I do not want you to hold back for the sake of my feelings like I know you do so often. I am your parent. I can handle it. Whatever it is, whatever you need, anything…we want to do whatever it takes to get you better. If that means going to group therapy, then we go to group therapy.”

I thought about it for a minute and answered honestly, “I don’t know.” I have been so focused on current reasons, that I have not gone back to even before my husband and I started dating to really explore other things that are there. Perhaps adoption. Perhaps a sense of not physically fitting into the family. Genetics??? I don’t know. I voiced some of this, but said that I remain convinced that despite a predetermined disposition, there were certain triggers that unleashed the “bad” parts of my personality and those triggers had nothing to do with neither her nor my dad. Then I launched into a tirade of what I believe happened to me.

After I was done, she looked sad but asked that I not pull away. That above all else, she and my dad were there to support me. She also invited that if she said anything that was hurtful or inappropriate, that I should say something right then and there. To her point, no one can ever change if the offended party does not let them know in what way they caused harm. Also back to the point of, I can’t expect other people to feel me the same way I feel them.

It was a good conversation. As I slowly peel back my prickly layers of distrust, suspicion and general self-protection, I am finding that I have many, many wonderful people in my life who want to help. I need to let them.

Amazing Grace

2007-04-23T09:07:00.000-07:00

In the aftermath of two national tragedies this week, the church service this Sunday focused on Grace. The church choir sang the song Amazing Grace as well.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now am found,
Was blind but now I see.

I know the song very well. As I sat there, I was transported back to November 27, 2001 in a Catholic church residing in a small town in NW Ohio. Before me is almost every single member of my mom’s family. To my right is a coffin containing the body of my grandmother. It is also my 21st birthday.

I have walled myself off from emotion all morning because I have a job to do; a very important job. One of my grandma’s wishes was that I would sing Amazing Grace at her funeral. She’s asked me to do this since I was a small girl. Of course at the time of such requests, I would laugh and tell her, “Grandma, you’re not going to die anytime soon.” But she did die. She was mortal. My beloved Grandma was gone.

Some history here:
I am the youngest of 14 grandchildren. I am also the only adopted member of the family. I was born on Thanksgiving Day of 1980. My parents learned shortly thereafter that I was going to be theirs. As my cousin put it this past weekend, “When your parents found out they were getting you, all emergency calls were stalled due to the amount of celebratory phone calls going in and out of their house.” I had to laugh at that. Sometimes I have to remind myself how celebrated my existence into the family was at a time that was sorely needed by many people, namely my Grandma. Her husband, my Grandpa, had been recently diagnosed with larynx cancer. It was a very scary time of surgery to remove his voice box, chemo and radiation and worry over how much it had spread. I arrived two days before Christmas in 1980 giving my grandpa something to live for. (Not my words, but theirs.)

Over the years it was somewhat evident that I was their favorite grandchild. It was no one else’s fault but simply a circumstance of timing and need. As I learned to vocalize, talk and sing, my grandpa continued to be in poor health. As early as two and something months, I would get on the phone and sing songs to them that my mom sang to me every night before bed. One song was “Amazing Grace.” I learned much later that my grandparents would be crying on the other end of the line as I sang because of the hope in those lyrics. Much needed hope.

My Grandpa died when I was 8, and over the remaining years of my Grandma’s life, she would request that song from time to time. Every time she would cry and every time she would remind me that I promised I would sing it at her funeral. Including at her 80th birthday.

Back to the Catholic church in a small town in NW Ohio standing there in front of my family. Some of them believing in God, others not so much preferring to see life and their existence on their own terms. My one shot to honor my grandmother. With much trepidation, I began to sing, but getting stronger with each line. I invited everyone to sing with me for the remaining verses. I couldn’t look at anyone because most of them were starting to cry. After the song was done, I calmly got back to the pew and then collapsed in sobs finally allowing hours of pent up emotion fall freely.

In the following weeks, I received many phone calls and notes thanking me for singing that song (and lines of “I had forgotten what a good voice you had!). I mused at the thank yous wondering why so many people had been touched. After all, it is a song that people have heard a million times. I have sung that song so many times that the words can somehow become redundant. For everyone that was sitting there that day, no matter their current situations, mistakes, sorrow, etc… that song is a reminder of universal plight of every human being that grace is available to everyone.

I then thought about my Grandma and the never-failing acceptance of all she encountered. Her house was a safe-haven for those that were outcasts or going through a rough time. No matter your age, she would crack open two beers, one for her, one for you, and say, “So talk.” She reminded our family over and over again that it was our jobs to love and be there for others and not to judge, for who are we to look at another and cast a stone? “Amazing Grace” was the perfect song for her. An example of human love and forgiveness and a woman that always looked towards the heavens to take care of everything else. Amazing Grace indeed.

Virginia Tech Tragedy

2007-04-17T06:59:00.000-07:00

I wanted to take a couple of minutes and express my deep sorrow for all of the victims, their family and friends, students and professors at Virginia Tech and all people touched by this tragedy. My prayers go out for you during this time and I hope the country at large unites to support those in need during this time.

Anger Management

2007-04-12T12:42:00.000-07:00

I've been dwelling on the subject of anger the past few days. I have an admitted inability to deal well with anger. That applies to anger within me or anger from other people whether directed at me or me getting caught in the cross-fire. With all of my sensitivities and physical reaction to other's emotions, the fact anger completely disturbs me makes sense. It is a very violent emotion to me and I do whatever possible to avoid it.

However, today I am angry. I am angry over the physical problems that have manifested themselves and are making every trip to the doctor a complete chore. EVERY damn time I hear something that's not good.

Let me preface this rant with that I completely understand that I am NOT that bad off. People every second of the day endure suffering that I cannot even begin to comprehend. However, everything in life is relative and if you use what a person should be like in their late 20's vs. where I am at, I am not doing as well as I could. I already knew about the stomach issues, the digestive issues, teeth/gum problems and that my heart is mildly damaged. All things considered, yuck, but livable.

In January I went and had my "yearly" exam. Due to my eating disorder physical issues, my doctor has been scheduling appointments with me every month to check up on me. I thought that going in yesterday was one of those check up visits. I was met with that they needed to do another pap smear. Apparently someone dropped the ball on telling me that I had an "abnormal" reading come back and further tests were required. Hearing that anything is abnormal is bad enough; not being prepared to talk about it going into the appointment was worse. What else came out of this appointment was that there were some "issues" up there as well and my hormones are completely whacked out and "need monitoring."

Again, while I know this isn't the worst thing I could hear, it certainly isn't good. And I won't know for another week if the tests came back positive for a problem. I'm not even going to go into the big "C" word. I've been all over the place emotionally this past week with very little ability to cope with simple things at work. This only served to make it worse.

But getting back to my anger. I am so angry at people in my life for their contributions to my mental state and therefore my physical problems. I shouldn't be having to deal with any of this. I should be thinking about my career, and marriage and children. Not heart, stomach and reproductive problems!!! I don't even know what to do with myself. I know part of forgiving is letting yourself work through all of the emotional issues and scars, but I find it so difficult to a) get upset at others in the first place and b) allow people to take responsibility for their own actions. I take it all on. I have not figured out a way to balance any of this within my head and heart.

Ok, I must get back to trying to focus on work. This week, finding that focus is next to impossible.

PS. My string of not throwing up ended. I did it today. Grrrr... (Trying not to be mad at myself)

Last Time

2007-04-08T19:00:00.000-07:00

I wanted to take a moment to celebrate the fact that it has been 4 weeks since I last threw up. Yay!

Sad

2007-04-08T18:32:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had something that happened but you don't really want to talk about it... It would just open up such a can of worms...questions...etc... I have that now. Something happened that I am very sad about. Saturday was a bit of an emotional disaster day for me. This weekend has been a lot of strange feelings. Feelings I am having great difficulty processing. Something happened that probably was good in the long term, but upsetting to me nonetheless.

But I did want to answer a couple of questions that have been brought up by a few comments posts. #1 - Under "More Empathy Musings" My Mom is another hypersensitive person, just in different ways than me. The gecko was not mine...just one of the little harmless ones that run rampant in Florida. She lived in Florida for 8 years prior to this stint. She knows they exist in FL. She just gets highly irrational towards the little creature that can't hurt her, but rolls her eyes when I get freaked out by a spider. I suppose it is a simple case of different phobic people not understanding other people's phobias. I guess this is just complicated because she knows how sensitive I am and how I have very little ability to deal with people yelling...especially for what I consider no good reason. Whatever though. It is my mom. She is a very delicate person in many respects.

Sociopaths...I read a statistic somewhere that 1 in every 20 or so people actually has sociopathic tendencies. That is, deficiencies in their emotional spectrum. I worked for a woman that I sincerely believe was a sociopath. A high functioning and adaptable one, but a sociopath nonetheless. She did not have "normal" reactions to anything. She would express verbal sympathy, whip up the proper facial cues, but I would feel NOTHING off of her. In private she would say AWFUL things. She had two children: one in college and one in high school. My boss would come to work complaining about her overly sensitive children. She was also just subtly cruel to them. E.g. Her daughter got a hampster. My boss hated that "f-cking, disgusting hampster." Instead of dealing with it like any other mother, she waited until her daughter left for camp and "got rid of it." She came to work absolutely gleeful about it. Then a week later when her daughter came home, she came to work saying that she told her daughter the hampster had escaped and she had looked all over for it. None of us could believe she would do something like that. That's just one example of how SICK she was. She was only happy when she was screwing someone over somehow. So yes, she was someone that definitely PLAYED people.

And just to clarify, I do not LIKE being around sociopaths...especially when I encounter them in my everyday life. It creeps me out for hours afterward when I feel nothing off of someone I have been in contact with. It is fascinating in the fact it is completely opposite of me. I cannot even comprehend what it would be like to exist without real feelings. That everything is manufactured based on the moment and giving people what you think they want to hear, see, etc...

Last comment of the night involving telepathy. Said person that "pings" me simply sends a message saying something very simple. At one point, I felt that she had just sent me an email. The message I got was "Sent email. Not bad. Please check." I looked down and my email alert noted that I had a new message. Without opening it, I knew who it was from and that it was ok to open it (as opposed to other awful emails I had received) because it wasn't negative. It was a letter of concern about someone. I just wonder that the few times she "pinged" me opened up some sort of emotional connection that I can't close. I hesitate to contact her to ask/talk to her about this.

Oh yeah, one other thing... Today was Easter Sunday. I walked into church this morning and immediately felt people in pain. I looked around wondering who it was. It was so apparent to me because Easter is supposed to be a day of joy in a church. But yet, a cloud of sadness and concern hit me. During the opening songs, I noticed one of the pastors off to the side on a cell phone. After the song was over, she began the prayers but wanted to first give an update on a parishioner that was in the hospital having brain surgery. This was the 2nd and it wasn't going well. There were several people very upset about this. Incidents like this are what illustrate what I now know to be something in me that makes me VERY hypersensitive to people and what's going on within them.

I am trying to accept this now and figure out how to put it to good use instead of being overwhelmed by it. I think the most important thing I have learned is that this is unique and that just because I don't have to have people tell me how they are feeling, that ability is rarely reciprocated. Other people cannot read me and therefore I have to tell people that I am happy, sad, depressed, etc... instead of assuming they know which I admittedly did for a LONG time.

Telepathy?

2007-04-04T13:48:00.000-07:00

I've had another occurrence of what can only be described as either telepathy or remote empathy. I don't know enough about either, but here is the deal. A person in my life with whom I have had unfortunate negative dealings with over the past year (mostly my fault) is also someone who has hypersensitivity and extreme empathy. She can actually go further than I can with some things just as I have some different abilities than her, but it all is rooted in this hypersensitivity to others. She can mentally "ping" people and also receive pings back. There were several times last year where I felt her "send" me messages...usually angry ones, but one time it was a concerned message. The first couple times it happened, I thought I was going crazy! The next couple of times I felt it, I just responded by checking my email or whatever it told me to do.

I hypothesize that when she did that, she opened up some sort of connection that has not been shut down because I can, on occasion, feel something from her states away. I think it has to be very strong though. I typically only get anger, frustration or sadness from her.

Today, around two hours ago, I started thinking about her. I thought she was sad over something. I almost sent something to a friend to ask if she had sent anything but didn't. Then I got a message saying a friend of hers had died and she was feeling terrible about it...and she had sent the message about the time I was thinking about her.

Why is this happening??? It is not something that is very welcome due to our relationship. I don't know if she even knows the connection or if she knows she is sending anything to me. But admittedly, it fascinates me. I'm going to start logging when I pick up on something to see if I can match it against anything.

Any thoughts on this? New territory for me.

More Empathy Musings

2007-04-02T12:39:00.000-07:00

I modified an email I just sent to the person that I am discussing in this blog:

I was doing searches on posts about highly sensitive or empathetic people and one link led me to a post a professor did about young women being fascinated with sociopaths/serial killers. I have been researching my ability to feel other people's emotions. Specifically I was interested in the following:

The young women who become intensely intrigued by them are often overwhelmed by chronic feelings of guilt and a painfully acute sensitivity to other's perceptions. They are often emotionally drained and exhausted, because within their families they've frequently been the ones to shoulder all of the responsibility and do all of the "feeling work" for everyone else.

I often think of emotional sensitivity as a spectrum from 0-10, similar to the volume controls for a radio. Most "normal" folks are tuned into the needs of others at about 4 or 5 on the spectrum. They are aware of the needs of those around them, but aren't overwhelmed by them. The Michelles of the world hear the world's emotional noise at an 8 or 9 on the spectrum. The needs and demands of others are so clear and loud that these young women often can't hear themselves think. They are actually incapacitated from the effort of absorbing so much emotion, and frequently they feel immensely guilty for not meeting the insatiable demands of those around them. Is it any wonder that they become fascinated with -- and even, in some sense, envious of -- sociopaths? What else is a sociopath than someone whose "volume control" for the needs of others has been set to mute? How many bright, talented, acutely sensitive young women have fantasized about having an internal "mute button" that could silence the judging, nagging, needy voices of all of those around them?

I grew up always being able to feel other people. While not necessarily fitting the HSP standard of being overly sensitive to all-stimuli, I am always acutely aware of everyone's feelings...especially if they are negative. It bombards me constantly at work, at home, out in social settings. At times, I can even pick up on thoughts although the person has to be dwelling intensely on the subject. People never have to tell me what they are feeling...I already know. I grew up not knowing other people couldn't do this. I was often called "very intuitive" and many people would say, "You're so insightful. How do you know all of that?" Often in arguments with people, I will hear, "You have to tell me what you are feeling. I’m not a mind-reader." That, up until very recently, would confuse me. Why do I need to tell people what I am feeling? Isn't it obvious? Apparently not. Most others, I hypothesize, do not feel other people like I do.
And yes, I feel very guilty. I was just having a discussion with a friend yesterday about the fact that I avoid difficult conversations or situations in which I can feel harm or hurt that I have caused to someone else. I make mistakes all of the time and yes I have hurt people. But I literally get to FEEL to a high degree what something I do does to someone else. Most people have the luxury that when they hurt someone else's feelings, they know it. There are visual clues, the relationship might be damaged...but I experience the entire ordeal as if I were the person. It is maddening. I obsess over trying to be perfect around people because I can't stand to deal with disappointing anyone.

Two examples: I was flying on a plane recently. As soon as I got to my seat, there was a woman sitting in the aisle seat of my row. As I was putting my bags in the overhead bin, I knew she wanted to talk to me and was hoping I would be someone that would engage her in conversation. Ok, now I have a choice. I can put on my headphones and try and drown out her neediness, or I can respond to it I chose to respond. As I already knew she would, she basically told me her entire life story. In the end I was glad I talked to her, but it is very difficult to drown out other's feelings.

My other example is hurting other people with the same abilities, or even variations of the abilities, as I have. That is a horrible and magnified experience. The person I happened to cross is less emotionally empathetic, but can telepathically send messages. I was sitting at work one day and I literally felt something punch my brain. She sent a very simple message, "F-You." I do not know if I can send anything back, but I sure got hers. That connected our minds in ways that I have not been able to sever since that. I pick up on her remotely sometimes. Its aggravating.

And as for sociopaths, I am fascinated with them for a simple reason. When I come into contact with one...and I'm not even talking about someone that would kill someone...but let's just say someone that has deficiencies in the emotional arena compared to a "normal person," I can feel that. There is "empty space." Most people transmit a lot of energy to me, positive and negative. Sociopaths transmit very little. Frankly, it freaks me out.

I ended the email with this person telling him a little bit more about me and if he ever wanted to hypothesize something and get some input, I would be happy to.

On a different note, my mom blew up at me over a freaking gecko that got into her house. She blamed it on me and flew off the handle because she has an extreme phobia towards reptiles of any sort. I was toast the rest of the day. Now that I’ve taken down many of my protective shields I had in place for years, I just can’t cope the way I used to when negativity came directly at me. I just can’t. I’ve somehow got to figure out a way to balance this out. Help?

Primal Wound

2007-03-23T07:20:00.000-07:00

In my never ending quest for self-awareness and understanding, I’ve been going back to the issue of adoption. I stumbled across an email I was not supposed to see between some of my in-laws. In it, they were pondering the sources of my pain and wondering how far back my problem went and did it even start before I self-mutilated in college. The fact that too many people are discussing subjects that shouldn’t concern them is a topic for another discussion…so let me pretend that this email was okay and move on with the “source of my pain” discussion.

My first reaction was, “Geesh, of course my ‘issues’ go back further than just college, or high school…there had to be something within me to even give me a propensity towards inflicting violent pain on myself.” I went backward through the years and thought about milestones in my life…mostly negative ones as those are the ones that tend to shape anyone’s “issues” and/or “depression.” It led me back to the very beginning when I was separated immediately from my birth mother. The entire first month of my life was spent in a foster home. While I’m sure this person was a loving person (or at least I like to think so), it wasn’t my mother. As soon as I was born, I was taken. I’m not sure if she even got to hold me. I haven’t asked her that question. Then after being put into a foster person’s arms, one month later I was given to the people I now call my parents. Three rather traumatic events happened to me within the first month of my life. 1. Birth 2. Initial separation and foster care, and 3. another move into my parent’s home.

I was lamenting to a friend the other day after viewing hundreds (yes, hundreds) of pictures of their baby that I have no pictures of me prior to one month old. Well, I take that back, I think the foster mother took a couple of pictures of me to give to my parents. But I have never seen a picture of my natural mother pregnant with me. I never saw a picture of her in the hospital. I’ve never seen a newborn picture of me. And really, nothing until my parents took me home two days before Christmas.

I suppose many people who might be reading this are thinking, “For crying out loud! Talk about trying to find something to blame.” Let me address that. I read an interesting article about the “Primal Wound” or the initial separation between a mother and her baby. I came across an article with this commentary…

“Many people worry that the notion of the primal would fosters victim status in birthparents and adoptees. I propose that it simply acknowledges an existing condition through which we often already feel like victims! This same misperception is seen in adoptive parents’ worries about how traumatic the telling about his or her adoption might be to their child, without any consideration given to the fact that the adoptee was there, and felt it when it happened! (If you have any doubts as to what babies—even before birth—feel, sense and know, there is plenty of research available.) To try and pick oneself up by the bootstraps and ‘get on with it’ before having the chance to lick one’s wounds, to even see one’s wounds, that is when one’s life vitality is siphoned off, by any of myriad defensive coping mechanisms, by over-whelming feelings of hopelessness, helplessness, depression, and sometimes by thoughts—or more than thoughts—of suicide.”

Another article I read had this to say…
"The adoptee is often given very little information about her relinquishment. She is expected to leave the past behind and concentrate on her present and future. Out of respect for the adoptive parents, she will often not ask questions or talk about her adoption if it is an uncomfortable subject in her home. She will wonder about her relinquishment and her birth mother. To attempt to fill in the gaps she will create fantasies of acceptable scenarios of the circumstances of her conception, birth and relinquishment, that she can emotionally handle.”

I have often had a problem with the “chosen” child story. My well-meaning parents often said things like that or another common one “You were born from my heart.” I never quite knew why and in some respects still don’t, but to hear the word “chosen” on the other end means rejected. Not only that, but what does chosen in this context really mean? And really, that in and of itself is a misnomer. They didn’t get to pick me really. I was given to them.

As a result, I think I developed a perfectionism attitude that I need to live up to my “special status.” For a very long time, I played the part well. I grew up in a nice, Christian home where certain values were encouraged and enforced. I remember often feeling very guilty growing up. My mother took it as a personal affront to her as a mother if I misbehaved or acted outside the realm of what was behaviorally acceptable. I remember one time she asked, “What did I do wrong?” So, I began going out of my way to hide any infractions. I was “special” and I was “chosen” and my mom was personally devastated by my mistakes. I also felt guilty if I displayed a personality different from my parents or acted in ways they did not, or had talents neither of them understood. My mom likes to tell me how similar we are and that we are “on the same page.” She has especially taken to this recently. In reality, we are not similar. This is not something to be frowned on, but celebrated. I have thought for a long time that I get along with my parents better than most people get along with theirs because I AM adopted. I do not have the same genetic make-up and therefore can come at them and relate to them in friendship as opposed to a forced genetic connection. I love my parents out of choice, not because I have to. I think that is a beautiful thing…

Anyway, going back to what started this discussion in the first place… I am just now, at 26 years of age, grieving what happened to me when I was born and coming to grips with the issues that have been an undercurrent throughout my life: feelings of not belonging, perfectionism, a propensity towards self-blame and harm, difficulty identifying and communicating negative emotions and fear of truly being myself. I think that despite the well-intentioned people in my lives from start to finish, I have never felt free to just be myself. I have a different genetic make-up than the family who raised me, yet I have felt the need to conform to their social, familial and social structure and therefore denying some of my natural tendencies. Deep rooted feelings of abandonment paralyze moving forward to true emotional intimacy. Fear of rejection causes me to hide a lot of myself from people. And finally, a constant drive to be perfect nearly sending me over the edge and has left me traumatized.

I don’t know if any of this is necessarily makes sense. Maybe it sounds hokey… But I think there are a lot of things that happen to people and leave emotional scars that are never acknowledged and therefore, continue to be a problem throughout life with no understanding as to why. I see exploring this not as a blame game to continue destructiveness towards self or others, but as a way to recognize all parts of my life and experiences that have made me who I am so I can make progress towards healing and making lasting changes.

Empathy

2007-03-09T08:35:00.000-08:00

I have drawn a conclusion about myself in the past couple of days. It is something that I've noticed for a long time but for whatever reason, never quite put the whole puzzle together. My revelation came in response to two incidents where serious discussions were had, but I was overly upset in response to a relatively calm tone and demeanor from the other parties. After a lengthy discussion with the second person this happened with, I finally realized what was going on. I was not reacting to what was being said or their spoken tone or demeanor. I was reacting to the energies they were emoting from the inside. After more discussion, I realized that I am abnormally sensitive to other's emotions...overly empathetic if you will. I can literally feel what other people are feeling without visual or auditory clues.

I guess I just thought my sensitivities were normal. Most people have sympathy for others. Many people relate to other's problems. Some even experience empathy towards others in particular situations...especially if the two people are close. But mine is different. I can feel things that others are not saying. I physically react to very strong outputs from others. My feelings get overly hurt because even if another person doesn't say or act in such a way, I can feel everything that they don't say. Sometimes people bring such a cloud with them, it literally oppresses me. One of our assistants at work is going through something. She wears her sadness like a piece of clothing to me. It is driving me nuts.

It is also aggrevating to me always knowing when people are being less than truthful or outright lying to me. When people lie, they put out strong waves of guilt...even if they are good liars otherwise. Aggitated and people with lots of nervous energy also affect me in a very negative way. It can take me hours to calm down from an encounter with such a person.

Sometimes I will get vibes off of perfect strangers. People I have encountered have been bothersome to me in a way that other's don't see. Sometimes there are voids around people that lead me to believe they are sociopaths. Ill intentions are often felt. Those feelings have saved me a couple of times. I also get needs from people. Case in point, I was recently on a business trip. When I got to my seat on the airplane, I got a sense that the other woman in the row with me really needed and wanted to talk. I had a choice of ignoring it and putting on my headphones or letting her strike up a conversation that I felt she desperately needed to have. I was right. She did need to talk and I felt she had a sense of calm by the time she got off of the plane that she didn't have when she walked on.

My mom has a variation of this "gift." She doesn't recognize feelings off of people in quite the same way that I do unless she has a bond with them, but she can absorb people's pain for short periods of time to give them some relief from various symptoms. It is quite the interesting phenomenon. I was having a particularly bad month of sleep and I was just exhausting myself. I stayed over at their house and finally had a wonderful night of sleep. The next morning, my mom asked how I slept and I replied "fantastic! I have no idea why I slept so well but I did." She smiled and admitted she took on my sleep problem so I could have some rest. She hardly slept that night. She's done that for friends and relatives several times in the past. I've actually witness it happening.

If anyone is reading this that experiences things in a similar way, I would be interested to know some of your experiences. Sometimes this gift is a blessing and sometimes a curse. Because I cannot actually tap into their mind, I don't always know what is causing their output. If I ask and they lie, I know that too. It is very frustrating. I can only help if people let me. Some people give me energy; others drain it. If I open myself up to the experience, I absorb a lot off of other people. I went through a period of 3 years of completely shutting myself off. That led to unhappiness as does opening myself too much. People can unknowingly and knowingly take advantage of me. I haven't quite found the balance of dealing with this ability.

I am interested in any insight readers of this blog might have.

Vomit

2007-03-05T11:08:00.000-08:00

A conversation I recently had spurred me to really think about how many times I’ve thrown up since I started in with Bulimia. Additionally, my doctor pointed out in my last visit that the average person throws up maybe 2-3 times every 4 years from usually either the flu or from food poisoning.

In order to do that, I have to work backwards. This past January – March 2006, I’ve probably thrown up an average of once every two weeks or 6 times in 3 months. Last year, I would go up and down with major continuing episodes followed by periods of inactivity. Let’s just say an average of two times per week totaling around 104 times. August – December 2005, I was averaging 3 times per day. That’s 5 months with an average of 30 days/month. Vomiting total during that time was 450 times total. Prior to that, probably since I moved down to FL in Feb. 2004, let’s average it to 2-3 times per week for almost 2 years. You’re looking at around 200 times. In 3 years, I have thrown up around 650 times. The over 3 years prior to that, you’re probably looking at an average of once per week or about 160 times in those 3 years. Grand total times I’ve thrown up over 6 ½ years is probably somewhere around 920 times. 920 episodes of forcing myself to vomit. I really did not understand why my doctor kept saying how “lucky” I was not to have caused more damage to my body. In the context of me throwing up around 900 times in a little over 6 years vs. the average of maybe 4 times for the average person due to illness… Wow! Those numbers are quite scary.

It brings up another issue entirely of dear GOD how could no one have noticed how sick I was??? ONE person noticed. At least enough to say something. ONE! ONE! The dark, dark circles under my eyes and generally sick appearance was the tip-off. You would think that my husband might have cared enough to notice. You might have thought that my on-going sensitive stomach might have been a cause for concern. Nope. It was a relative stranger that saw and cared and was very instrumental to me in getting help. In fact, I will go as far to say that it saved my life. My body would not have lasted at the rate I was going prior to seeing a counselor in Feb. 2006 with averaging throwing up 3 times a day. Sometimes it was more. My heart could not have stood it. I have already put myself into a major danger zone. *sigh* But the important thing for me to keep in mind is that I HAVE made progress...lots of it. And that has to be what keeps me going.

A Good Day

2007-02-10T09:54:00.000-08:00

I don't know if it was simply the fact my anti-depressant has finally kicked in or what, but I was in an abnormally fantastic mood yesterday. If I wasn't so tired today, I would probably be in a great mood today too.

The week started off really well with a client of mine sending me a very sweet thank you card for the work I have done for them. It added that they knew how stressed out I've been at my job and to go have a spa day on them. Inside was a gift certificate to a spa. I started crying. That was such a perfectly timed and very unexpected surprise. I was floored. There were some rough patches this week but all in all, it was very positive. By Friday, I had such a "lack of concern" and was smiling and happy all day. People at work even noticed the lift in my mood.

So here is hoping to some better weeks ahead.

Off-Topic

2007-02-10T09:52:00.000-08:00

I'm not normally given to posting off-topics, but this cracked me up!

Things we know because of TV
# If staying in a haunted house, women should investigate any strange noises wearing their most revealing underwear.
# If being chased through town, you can usually take cover in a passing St Patrick's Day parade - at any time of the year.
# All beds have special L-shaped top sheets that reach up to armpit level on a woman but only waist level on the man lying beside her.
# All grocery shopping bags contain at least one stick of French bread.
# It's easy for anyone to land a plane, providing there is someone in the control tower to talk you down.
# Once applied, lipstick will never rub off - even while scuba diving.
# The ventilation system of any building is a perfect hiding place. No one will ever think of looking for you in there and you can travel to any other part of the building without difficulty.
# You're likely to survive any battle in any war unless you make the mistake of showing someone a picture of you sweetheart back home.
# Should you wish to pass yourself off as a German officer, it will not be necessary to speak the language. A German accent will do.
# The Eiffel Tower can be seen from any window of any building in Paris.
# People of TV never finish their drinks.
# A man will show no pain while taking the most ferocious beating but will wince when a woman tries to clean his wounds.
# The chief of police is always black.
# When paying for a taxi, never look at your wallet as you take out a note - just grab one at random and hand it over. It will always be the exact fare.
# If you lose a hand, it will cause the stump of your arm to grow by 15cm.
# Kitchens don't have light switches. When entering a kitchen at night, you should open the fridge door and use that light instead.
# During all police investigations, it will be necessary to visit a strip club at least once.
# Mothers routinely cook eggs, bacon and waffles for their family every morning, even though the husband and children never have time to eat them.
# Cars and trucks that crash will almost always burst into flames.
# Wearing a singlet or stripping to the waist can make a man invulnerable to bullets.
# A single match will be sufficient to light up a room the size of a football stadium.
# If a killer is lurking in your house, it's easy to find him. Just relax and run a bath - even if it's the middle of the afternoon.
# Medieval peasants had perfect teeth.
# Although in the 20th century it is possible to fire weapons at an object out of visual range, people of the 23rd century will have lost this technology.
# All single women have a cat.
# Any person waking from a nightmare will sit bolt upright and pant.
# Even when driving down a perfectly straight road, it is necessary to turn the steering wheel vigorously from left to right every few moments.
# One man shooting at 20 men has a better chance of killing them all than 20 men firing at one.
# Creepy music coming from a graveyard should always be closely investigated.
# If a phone line is broken, communication can be restored by frantically beating the cradle and saying, "Hello?, Hello?"
# Most people keep a scrapbook of newspaper cuttings - especially if any of their family or friends has died in a strange boating accident.
# It does not matter if you are heavily outnumbered in a fight involved martial arts - your enemies will wait patiently to attack you one by one by dancing around in a threatening manner until you have knocked out their predecessor.
# During a very emotional confrontation, instead of facing the person you are speaking to, it is customary to stand behind them and talk to their back.
# When you turn out the light to go to bed, everything in your room will still be clearly visible, just slightly bluish.
# Dogs always know who's bad and will naturally bark at them.
# Police departments give their officers personality tests to make sure they are deliberately assigned a partner who is their total opposite.
# When they are alone, all foreigners prefer to speak English to each other.
# Action heroes never face charges for manslaughter or criminal damage despite laying entire cities to waste.
# No matter how badly a spaceship is attacked, its internal gravity system is never damaged.
# If there is a deranged killer on the loose, this will coincide with a thunderstorm that has brought down all the power and phone lines in the vicinity.
# You can always find a chain saw whenever you're likely to need one.
# Rather than wasting bullets, megalomaniacs prefer to kill their arch-enemies using complicated machinery involving fuses, pulley systems, deadly gases, lasers and man eating sharks that will allow their captives at least 20 minutes to escape.
# Having a job of any kind will make all fathers forget their son's eighth birthday.
# Many musical instruments - especially wind instruments and accordions - can be played without moving the fingers.
# All bombs are fitted with electronic timing devices with large red readouts so you know exactly when they're going to go off.
# It is always possible to park directly outside the building you are visiting.
# Guns are like disposable razors - if you run out of bullets, just throw the gun away. You can always buy a new one.
# Make-up can safely be worn to bed without smudging.
# A detective can only solve a case once he has been suspended from duty.
# If you decide to start dancing in the street, everyone you bump into will know all the steps.

A Song

2007-02-05T10:46:00.000-08:00

I wanted to paste the lyrics of a song by Sarah McLachlan. It "spoke" to me.

"Perfect Girl" from Afterglow

Am I faithful, am I strong, am I good enough to belong
In your reverie a perfect girl
Your vision of romance is cruel and all along I played the fool
All your expectations bury me

[Chorus]
Don't worry you will find the answer if you let it go
Give yourself some time to falter
But don't forgo know that you're loved no matter what
And everything will come around in time

I own my insecurities I try to own my destiny
That I can make or break it if I choose
But you take my words and twist them 'round
Til I'm the one who brings you down
Make me feel like I'm the one to blame for all of this...

[Chorus]
Don't worry you will find the answer if you let it go
Give yourself some time to falter
But don't forgo know that you're loved no matter what
And everything will come around in time

You need everybody with you on your side
Know that I am here for you but I hope in time
You'll find yourself alright alone
You'll find yourself with open arms
You'll find yourself you'll find yourself in time

The riot in my heart decides to keep me open and alive
I have to take myself away from you
'Cause I can't compete I can't deny there's nothing that I didn't try
How did I go wrong in loving you

[Chorus]
Don't worry you will find the answer if you let it go
Give yourself some time to falter
But don't forgo know that you're loved no matter what
And everything will come around in time

Drugs and Such

2007-02-01T11:39:00.000-08:00

Well, I finally found an anti-depressant that doesn't give me any side effects...Wellbutrin. Nothing, nada, zip, zilch. I don't even know I'm taking anything. I've actually talked to several people that have had good results on this particular drug. I've read it takes people anywhere from 2 weeks - 6 weeks to notice a difference in their mood. Guess we will see.

I was having a conversation with a friend about ADD. His wife was convinced he was ADD. She had done all sorts of research on adult ADD and was sure he needed to go on Ritalin so she and "others" could tolerate his energy more. In that scenario, a drug fix was absolutely ill-advised. This person had a very high quality of life, had a good job, several friends and energy to spare. He was not hurting himself as a result of this alleged ADD. The drug would have worked to fundamentally change who he was for someone else.

While I am still not a fan of taking an anti-depressant, here was my rationale. I have caused my body and mind irrepairable harm. I hurt myself physically as a result of my depression and perfectinism. I have lost interest in many parts of my life. I am distracted and performing way below my abilities at work. I still need counseling. I still need to force myself to socialize. I still need to find ways of promoting a healthier mind-body connection. However, I have severe mental roadblocks that hopefully Wellbutrin can help me cross so I can begin to want to take care of myself. Right now, that's not a natural tendency.

I learned the other week that upon further review of my echocardiogram, the doctor was not happy with the way one of my heart valves was operating. I was literally purging my way to heart failure. Even though the doctor assured me that, at this point, it was not serious or beyond repair, it was still absolutely devestating to hear. I am 26 years old!!! I shouldn't have any issues with my heart. At this point, the doctors are hoping that given enough time and not placing additional stress on my heart with throwing up, that it will repair itself. I am hoping too.

Happy New Year

2007-01-10T11:31:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year! It has been awhile since I have posted. I guess I just haven’t been in much of a writing mood. Lots to talk about though.

I had to go back a few blogs to see where I left off. I’ve been branching off on several subjects that somewhat keep the focus off kilter, but I’m finding more and more that life in general is a running commentary full of tangent stories and events, but that all stem from one main line.

So here are some updates:
1) Conversations with my birth mother. I finally talked to my birth-mom for over 2 hours one night. That was really nice. It actually sounds like we have a lot in common, especially in the area of natural tendencies. She is also open to finally meeting in person sometime this year. Timing is always important and I think we are both finally feeling like it is a good time. I also found out that there are a lot of perfectionist tendencies as both of my half-sisters have dealt with similar problems as I have.

2) The results of my stomach scan showed that I have a condition called gastroparesis. This condition occurs when the rate of the electrical wave slows and the stomach contracts less frequently. Now the food just lays in the stomach relying on acid and digestive enzymes to break down the food and on gravity to empty the stomach. A known cause is bulimia. It most likely is a permanent condition that I will have to take medicine for the rest of my life. Yea! However, it does explain a lot of symptoms I was having such as severe heartburn that were not helped by normal acid relieving medications. Other than that, I have a few other minor issues but most will take care of themselves over time.

3) I should just have an entry devoted entirely to this, but my first attempt at taking an anti-depressant was HORRIBLE. My doctor prescribed me Zoloft so I went and filled the prescription. That night I decided to take one before bed. I woke up a couple of hours later. My jaw was shaking; I felt agitated and disoriented; and I felt like my skin was going to jump off of the rest of my body. I thought maybe getting up and going to the bathroom would help. When I got up, however, I fell over. I was so dizzy and nauseous. I made it to the bathroom and back to bed but didn’t sleep the rest of the night. I was shaking, restless and just felt completely sick. My mind was racing the entire time. I threw up the next morning from nausea. It took two days to feel normal. So…in other words, I experienced almost every severe reaction listed in the information booklet I received with the drug. I need to call my doctor and talk to her about that. Bad, bad, bad!!!!!!

Well, that’s all for now. I am going crazy trying to learn a new position at work as well as keep up several components of my old position. It is a tough juggling act, but hopefully I get through without dropping too many balls.

Here is to a better year in 2007. God knows I need it!

One Last Thought

2006-12-05T19:36:00.000-08:00

Yes, I know I said I was done... HAHAHAHA! Thinking never ceases. Anyway, it is about human psychology and judging other people. Let me preface this next rant with this. Yes, I judge other people. Everyone does. However, I do find more satisfaction over analyzing others and their behaviors than judging. So here is an observation.

I always find it amusing that when people say cruel and disparaging remarks about others, often in a lame attempt to build self-esteem, they do not EVER seem to correlate the behavior they are criticizing in others with their own behavior. It is entirely a "Thou dost protest too much" moment. For example, someone looks at another person and in shocked self-righteousness proclaims what an evil and horrible person X is for doing (fill in the blank). Unless you are talking about outright killing or brutally abusing someone, there is nothing under the sun that is truly worse than anything else.

When I was in church last week, there was a great illustration about "hands." It basically was a vignette about the evil and selfishness that all of our hands accomplish but there was one set of hands that paid the price for all other hands. In an attempt to make themselves feel better, often times people try to categorize and assign degrees of intensity to various sins. The fact of the matter is that none of us are truly "good" people. We all struggle with our own demons. For some it is addiction, others cheating, others laziness and so on... I have my own personal struggles. It has been in those struggles and wrestling with God and my humanity, that I have learned to recognize the humanity in others and how all of us are in a constant cosmic struggle. To claim that any of us are "better" or more "righteous" than others is plain ignorant...and to be quite honest a sin in and of itself.

We only have a small glimpse into other's lives. What might seem so obvious at first glance is quite different when one cares enough to dig a little deeper. Sometimes that person that is so easy to hate is the one that needs the most love.

So I challenge, the next time you look at someone and despise them, ask yourself why that is. Is it that they are actually "deserving" of your harshness, or are they bringing out an insecurity in you that you want to squash by placing yourself above that person on an intellectual, emotional, and/or spiritual level. And no matter what your answer is, challenge yourself to examine your own life before judging others. It isn't your place. It is between that person and God. No matter your faith, placing faith in the divine to rework your soul is the most healing and learning act a person can do. Make your life right with God and that will ultimately bring you in harmony with those around you.

Peace during this Christmas season.

Random Things

2006-12-05T19:13:00.000-08:00

Lots and lots of thoughts swirling through my head. Some I can write about, others I cannot. There is a section of my life that even I can't write on paper...so I will write about everything else. What's on my mind? The following:

1) Continuing check-ups and health issues... Last Wednesday, I had a gastric emptying scan. That is a fancy name for eating a radioactive egg, lying completely still and flat for two hours while doctors take scans watching the egg move, or in my case, not move through my stomach into my small intestine. Then, they start injecting you with different drugs to see if your stomach responds to any of them. The only plus side of this experiment? I got to watch "The Wedding Crashers" in the middle of the work day. However, even with a funny movie in, the last 30 minutes of that whole ordeal was rather unbearable. The drugs they were giving me made my stomach cramp and feel like I was about to sh... You get the picture. I didn't feel right for about 3 days even though supposedly there isn't supposed to be any side effects. WHATEVER!

2) I am feeling very thankful for the random kindness of those who have entered my life during this whole ordeal. 4 out of the 5 doctors I have encountered have had some sort of connection to an eating disorder and have made me feel accepted and loved. The heart doctor that performed my echocardiogram used to be a laxative abuser. The doctor that performed my gastric emptying scan is married to a woman that suffered from bulimia and has many of the health fall-outs that I have had. And on and on... My greatest fear in going to a doctor was feeling judged. Instead, I have been overwhelmingly met with support. I am so incredibly grateful for that bit of a "God-thing" in my life.

3) A co-worker of mine performed a Rakei attunement ceremony over me in my office. While I certainly don't consider myself "New Age," I absolutely believe in the healing power of belief and that energy transfers from one positive spirit to another can have a physical, emotional and mental impact. "Laying of hands" is performed in various ways across most world religions and in spiritualist societies. There has to be something to it for so many people to believe in it.

4) Goals for next year... I have many goals for next year. I have to have goals. I am a goal driven individual. However, the little steps I would like to achieve next year are relatively simple. I will write about one of them... I would like to meet my birth mother (or 1st mother) at some point in 2007. The time is right. We've written off and on for about 7 years now. We have both expressed the desire. It just needs to happen this year. I need it for personal healing as well. I have denied that there is a void from not knowing where I physically come from for long enough. I am 26 years old now. My parents, while I love them dearly, are not going to be able to answer the questions nor fill in the little holes that come from being adopted.

Okay, that is enough of my random thinking. I am tired. I am supposed to be updating my resume right now. Oh well. So much for that. I think i needed to do some brain emptying before that could happen. I wish I could write about everything else on my mind, but alas, I have little trust that this forum of thought spewing is entirely confidential.

Lastly though, for all of you reading this that have made little differences in my life this past year, THANK YOU! It is not unnoticed and so very, very, very appreciated. I hope to someday return the favor.

Doctors, Meds, and Misc.

2006-11-16T12:50:00.002-08:00

Well, I did it. After 3 years of avoidance, I finally went to see a doctor...and told them about my eating disorder. 200 questions later, I had an official bulimia nervosa diagnosis and a very concerned doctor who immediately ordered me into getting a gammit of tests to determine just how badly I have screwed up my insides. She noted first off that the roof of my mouth has scarring as does my throat. My gums are also inflammed. They did an EKG in the office, sent me over to the hosiptal to get a chest x-ray and echocardiogram STAT! (side note: when a doctor puts STAT on your hospital order, they do actually pay attention). I have to get blood work done to check my hormone and mineral levels. Then I get to go to a gastrointestinal reflux disorder specialist. Then back to the doctor for a full physical and discussion of my results. Then more blood work, then a follow-up appointment. Full throttle ahead on trying to fix whatever it is I have done to myself.

I must say, it is nice to be taken seriously. Part of my fear in going to a dr. in the first place was feeling judged. I know what I'm doing to myself. I can probably tell you all of the side effects I know can occur. Yes, I know that Karen Carpenter died of an eating disorder. Yes, I know Terry Schivo might have slipped into a coma from one as well. I don't always feel like I have a choice. Feel full? Throw up. Feel anxious? Throw up. Feel angry and out of control? Throw up. Feel like you have no control? Throw up. It is such a habit at this point. It will probably take collective support from doctors, therapists, family and friends to help me overcome this as much as possible.

One thing I'm not quite sure about? My doctor wants to put me on Zoloft. It has a track record of helping patients with eating disorders get a grip and fight the compulsion to eat too much and purge. That combined with therapy has yielded results. I'm not big on medicating, however, I know it has been successful for many people...and not so successful for others. So, if anyone is reading this and wants to weigh in on the drug or their thoughts on anti-depressents in general, please comment. I'm researching.

Shame

2006-11-06T13:39:00.001-08:00

One aspect I have not talked a lot about is the element of shame associated with an eating disorder. In fact, as I sit here and start to type, I feel shameful even talking about shame. But that very element is why a disorder like this can go on and exist under the radar for YEARS without discovery. Each and every person that is consumed by an eating disorder is crying for help, but we are too ashamed to ask for it. So we continue our self-destruction of eating and vomiting, eating and vomiting, sometimes just vomiting. And all the while hating ourselves for being so weak that we would need such a wretched habit in order to cope, in order to lose weight, in order to survive it sometimes seems. It says something when I can’t eat 20 gummy bears or a mini-candy bar or a normal sized meal and not immediately think it is going to make me fat and I want to just get rid of it. It also says something that the first thing I think of when I hear a negative comment, or a mistake is pointed out, or someone confronts me that I all I want to do is purge. Purging food and purging emotion – it is all the same. So I do and then the guilt and the shame for having “done it” yet again floods over me as a cold shower of reality. “You are THROWING UP Kate! Stop it! What are you doing to yourself?!?!?!” Wanting to stop yet feeling fat and disgusting and slightly self-satisfied over “taking care of” the “problem” of simply eating and enjoying food. I feel shame when I eat. I feel shame when I can’t deal with negativity and mistakes. I feel shame when I throw up.

A friend commented to me today that I have made so much progress the past year. Of course I instantly retorted I didn’t feel like I had progressed at all. Perhaps until I get a hold of my perfectionism, I will never be good enough for myself. I will never make enough progress. I will never simply allow myself to, of all things, be happy.

Depression

2006-10-27T07:53:00.000-07:00

I think I finally need to admit something to myself. I’ve been fighting it for a long time. However, a friend brought up last night that they think I could have clinical depression. I know that isn’t an earth-shattering thought considering my struggles with the ED, but I guess it never really sank in that I am experiencing a major bout with depression. I have become so good at lying, but I think I have I have become the best at lying to myself.

I went online and looked up diagnostic criteria for clinical depression. Sadly, I pretty much meet every single one of them. For months now, I have had extreme difficulty concentrating at work. I will, quite literally, stare at my computer screen with a sort of paralysis. I know I have about 50 things on my To-Do list, but I cannot make myself care to work. I can sleep for 6 hours or 12 hours and I wake up feeling like I’ve barely slept at all. I don’t care about many of the things I used to. I don’t particularly relish the idea of being around people. For anyone that knows me, that is very unusual. I have feelings of extreme guilt. I blame myself for everything. I think I don’t deserve to be happy. I feel hopeless. I’ve flirted with using prescription drugs to dull everything else. I have reliance on over-the-counter sleeping pills. I can’t wait to go home so I can attempt to sleep. And then, to make it all worse, when I feel really bad, all I want to do is eat and then throw it all up. I get frequent headaches and joint aches. And I just feel so damn tired all of the time. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I can’t stand to feel like this so I don’t give into it. I hate the idea of going and sitting in someone’s office and having them “diagnose” me and make it a reality. I hate seeming weak. I hate seeming like I can’t deal with my problems. I hate thinking that I could be one of the masses with “depression.” Sometimes the very concept seems so…so…ridiculous to me. Yet, here I am sitting here, avoiding work, feeling hopeless and wanting to go home, crawl into bed and sleep. Very little makes me happy. I have been sitting here for nearly 2 hours and accomplished nothing. And I have no desire to accomplish anything. That in and of itself should be the biggest red flag because I am so competitive in a normal state. I live to accomplish.

I really need to get into see a doctor. Just suck it up and admit I have a serious problem. Ugh! I hate this. I really do.

Dwelling On Being Adopted

2006-10-12T13:23:00.000-07:00

I am not entirely sure why my mind is dwelling on the fact that I am adopted. I have a special frustration because not only am I adopted, but my birth-mother is also adopted as well. Whereas some adopted children receive some closure and resolution, and at the very least history once they find their birth-mother, I get nothing beyond finally getting to connect with my birth-mother and the joy of discovering I have two half-siblings.

When I go to the doctor and people ask for a medical history, I get to smile and answer that I am adopted and I do not know any part of my medical history. They give a "look" back in frustration and move on down their chart. Some ask me if I have a medical record of my birth mother and again I get to smile and reply that she is adopted too. I can almost see in their eyes that they want to throw their hands up in frustration over the issue.

Some might read this and think that it isn't too unusual for a child to be adopted anymore and that our schools and doctors, etc... should have more understanding. This is a valid argument, however, many adoptions done nowadays are open adoptions. Some go as far to have the adopted parents in the room with the birth-mother as she is giving birth. Information is freely shared between adopted parents and birth-mothers throughout the child's upbringing fostering a healthy relationship to both sides.

My adoption was closed. My adopted parents didn't know anything beyond very, very basic information about my birth-mother. Everything was done through an agency and the state. Although my parents shared the fact that I was adopted as soon as I was old enough to understand, they struggled with the fact that when I was 19, I went on a search to find out what I could about my birth-parents. Seriously, like I was going to "leave them" in favor of a birth-mom that I had, up until that point, virtually no knowledge about. Our country's attitude towards adoption has fostered this fear on all sides concerning having a relationship with both the natural parents and the adopted parents. It is truly sad. I am both a product of nature and nurture. Neither side can claim total responsibility for "me."

I am blessed, however, to have a birth-mom that welcomes me contacting her for any reason and who wants to be as active in my life as I will let her.

Why It's Great To Be A Bastard

2006-10-12T13:01:00.000-07:00

I found a very interesting site all about the history of adoption. It contains several informational research and resources about and for adopted children. In one section was a funny article about why its great to be adopted. It is meant to be humorous. I wanted to post some of my favorites.

2. We have more names than most people.
5. We get to go on this nifty epic search for our roots
6. We develop great research skills.
7. We learn to cut right through the bullshit.
8. We can moonlight as P.I.s
10. Some of our “life stories” would make great movies of the week.
11. When someone says, “Hey, you bastard!” we can just smile and say, “Yo.”
12. Cheap health insurance by leaving “family medical problems” blank.
14. Whenever an a-parent does something idiotic, the knowledge that there is no genetic relationship.
20. We can't get arrested for marrying our 1st cousins
21. Hell!! We can't get arrested for marrying our sister or brother for that matter!!
22. I am a bastard. I am proud of being a bastard. I am not the product of some 3 minute routine baby-making session between two cookie-cutter suburban twits. I am the product of lust and self-gratifying passion. I like that. It makes me feel special.
24. IF we find our birth family we have the chance of having TWO great families!!!
25. If we find our birth family we have a chance of having TWO crappy families!!!!
26. If we find our birth family we have the chance of having ONE great family and ONE crappy family!!!
27 You get to hear *How does that make you feel?* more often than a psychotherapy patient, but you don't have to pay $90 an hour.
28. We get to hear chirpy little twits constantly tell us,“You weren't expected you were selected”
34. You can eat any strange food you wish, and claim it as ethnic and healthful for your people. 35. You can be glad that you did not inherit the mental illness that runs in your adoptive family.
36. You truly have every reason to ponder your navel.
47. You have your own personal Can Of Worms to open despite all warnings!
49. You can laugh at the pseudo bastards when they tell you how much you look like your aparents.
50. When everyone else is running away from the skeletons in their closets; you get to run towards them in your search.
57. You can read the delightful children's book “Are You My Mother” and cry.
58. You can read the delightful children's book “Horton hatches an Egg” and cry.
64. You can warn those around you that you are probably a “bad seed” and might, therefore, snap at any time. . . .
76. You get to see all the nifty faces people make when trying to act casual after you have told them that you're adopted.
77. You always have a reason to be depressed.
79. When caught with a dumb look on your face it can be explained away as simply pondering your roots, true identity, or other related topics.

My personal favorite experience that isn't on this list is being amused at the science teacher trying to figure out what to do with me during the genetics section of the class. Typically, the teacher would send her students forth to research their background so as to determine where all of our nifty little traits came from (e.g. What color eyes do my parents have so we can grid them to see how I got my blue eyes.) And I swear, this stupid project happened every 2 years throughout my entire school years. Anyway, it was always this ordeal to find a different but comparable project for me to do since I was adopted. Some teachers were better than others, but one just told me to do my adopted family. Seriously, how is that going to help me??? All she did was make me feel inferior. Oh well.

Lack of Introspect

2006-10-11T14:20:00.000-07:00

I have been rather lazy and complacent recently. I haven't felt terribly bad. I have gotten to the point where I usually only have 1-2 days per week that I throw up. Now granted, this might happen 2-3 times in that day, but that is considerably less than before. I haven't been in to see a therapist in two months and I can really tell. I also have "successfully" procrastinated getting myself into a doctor to get checked out physically. It is so tiring to deal with so, in some respects, I'd just rather not deal with it at all. Plus, other than one person, no one asks me about it. People feed you this line of bullshit when you first tell them about your problem that they care and will check up on you and do whatever it is you need them to do...and then they never follow-up. I'm not the personality to ever really ask for help so, of course, I don't communicate with them about it either. The other course of non-action is to just pretend like it doesn't exist. Or to say lame things like, "You look so good" everytime that person sees you. Like telling me I look good is going to magically make it go away.

Everyone is very comfortable again. It is kind of pissing me off. I'm still not okay, but everyone is moving along like I am. Okay. I'm ranting now and this isn't turning into a constructive post whatsoever. Everything about my life is just plain irritating me right now. I know, what an ungrateful bitch I sound like. Ugh.

Religion and such

2006-10-02T18:26:00.000-07:00

Does God cause things to happen or does he let things happen? Is it to "teach us lessons?" Or maybe shit just happens? Maybe there are just bad people and bad things in the world? Does God sit up there with puppet strings? *sigh* Just pondering the larger questions in life after an argument with my mom over whether God fixed the DVR just in time for a football game. Stupid, stupid. Like I need to argue or be upset over such a trivial topic...especially at my dad's birthday dinner. GOOOOO TIMING!

A Look At An Only Child

2006-09-26T14:11:00.000-07:00

*Whew…this is a long one written over several days

In a continued effort to understand myself, I keep researching different angles of where my tendencies towards self-harm and perfectionism came from. As mentioned before, I am adopted. That, in and of itself, creates a unique environment. However, I am also an only child. Those two characteristics together have added to my rather unique personality.

Growing up, I can remember always being told I was “special.” This special sentiment not only came from the fact I was an only child, but also adopted. I was the child my parents finally received after 14 years of marriage. I was the child they could pour all of their love into after waiting for so long. I was born directly on Thanksgiving and officially received by my parents 2 days before Christmas of that same year. They called me their holiday baby. I also came at a time when my mom’s dad was suffering through chemo treatments for larynx cancer. My parents, at that time lived close to my mom’s folks so my presence gave my grandpa something to live for. I was also the baby out of 14 first-cousins.

From an early age, I am told I was inquisitive, alert, affectionate and friendly. Strangers did not exist in my world. I remember long periods of being alone. While I was very involved in the communities my parents introduced me to (i.e. church, school, sports, music, etc…), I needed and craved alone time. In between activities and on weekends, I would spend hours in my room and large walk in closet creating my own fantasy worlds. I remember HATING to be disturbed. On occasion, I would invite my mom to play a game with me or beg her to listen to me sing or play the piano. However, if she intruded during my alone time, I would get angry.

I accompanied my mom to her activities within her own peer age group. I learned to converse with adults at a very young age and feel very comfortable with those viewed as traditional authority figures. While I was friendly with my own age group, I remember often feeling out of place with them and instead preferring to talk to my teachers or my mom’s friends. At the small, private school I attended in elementary school, I became known as a teacher’s pet. Teachers often relied on me to help them grade papers, make new students feel comfortable and speak with prospective student’s parents about my experiences at the school. I was described as extremely conscientious, driven, responsible, and outgoing yet with a terrible streak of impatience and stubbornness.

In my research, I found that only children typically feel as though they do not relate to their own peer group. “The typical only child has the striving characteristics of the first-born child and the inadequacy feelings and demands of the youngest child. As children, they usually want to be adults as they do not relate to peers very well. When only children become adults, they often believe they've finally "made it" and can now relate better to adults as peers.” I can certainly relate to that statement as I always felt at odds with my own age. I gravitated towards students a few years older than me, but also to students in grades younger than me taking on, perhaps, a mentoring, “older sibling” relationship. Maybe a sense of wanting to impart pieces of myself on others since I did not have a younger sibling.

In addition to the expectations placed on my, probably unconsciously, by my parents coupled with the fact that I was the “special” adopted child, I also went to a private “college preparatory” school in my younger elementary years. I was taught to excel and achieve at a very young age. Parents of students at my school were discouraged from helping their child with their studies too much but instead to encourage us to rely on ourselves and problem solve. I cannot recall very many instances where my parents assisted or even helped me with my homework. I learned to be an extremely independent thinker and problem solver. Placed in advance classes from 1st grade on, I surrounded myself with high achievers where anything less than perfection was frowned upon. While I am sure my parents never meant to instill “perfectionism,” they did require that I do my best at everything. My best was almost always at a higher level. Thus, from a young age, I required perfection from myself. I not only required myself to get an A, but to outscore everyone else in my class.

I recall in 2nd grade a competition that the teachers had for a math award. We took time-table tests in addition, subtraction, multiplication and division. We were given one minute to solve 60 of each kind of math and do it correctly. These tests were administered over a period several weeks with each test getting progressively more difficult. The first person to pass all tests ahead of everyone else, was the winner. I was determined to be that winner. And, I did it. I can remember extreme joy and pride in beating 50 other 2nd graders (guys and girls) at this contest. That trend of being at the top continued most of my young years.

However, the years of achievement and requiring so much out of myself came at a toll. I would get increasingly frustrated if I could not be at the top, beating out everyone else to be first. If I couldn’t be the best, sometimes I would just not try or I would self-sabotage so I would have an excuse or an out for not being perfect. This led to bouts with extremely high achievements followed by periods of procrastination and quitting activities. I found a bit of an article that echoed this sentiment. “The only child will receive all of their expectations from their parents rather than both parents and siblings. Because of this, many only children are in danger of acquiring perfectionistic or people-pleasing behaviors. On a more optimistic note, proponents of birth order theory state that only children tend to be quite confident, diligent and mature. Not all only children are over-achievers, but even the most laid-back only child is clearly guided by a need to do the right thing and strives to make a difference in society.”

Many of my “only-childness” and perfectionist characteristics caused problems in my high school years. I developed a group of friends who were, often times, very high achievers themselves. Surrounding yourself with competition of that nature can lead to many joys and many sorrows. I already had a very difficult time relating to people in my own age group. I took to making friends with many different “groups” that ranged from academic nerds (Extended Learning Program anyone?) to the popular jocks and everything in between like the choir and drama folks as well as the middle-road B-group. That way, I could vary my time and not have to get too close to any one group and avoid having a label. I also valued my alone time to an almost ridiculous degree. However, as illustrated by the next quote, many other only children feel the same way. Said one adult only child, "Possibly the best part was developing the ability to enjoy being alone and to entertain myself. I've always had plenty of friends, yet people are surprised by how much of a loner I can be" I enjoyed going out in groups, but also equally enjoyed a night to myself reading a book or going and sitting in a coffee shop by myself to write.

My parents, wisely on their part, prohibited me from dating until I was 16 and instead encouraged me to develop friendships with both sexes in group environments. When I was 16½, I began slowly dating the guy that would be become my future husband. He was a year older than me and involved in choir. That is how we met: making pizzas for a choir fundraiser. I had actually met him briefly before. Being the super-friendly personality I was, I marched over to introduce myself to him because he was one of the few people I had not talked to within my choir world. He would tell me later that he had been enchanted by my smile and friendliness.

His home-life would eventually upset my world and change my outlook on myself and how I was supposed to relate to people. My husband is a middle child in a divorced family, but the oldest boy. During the divorce and after, he became the mediator and peacekeeper of the family. All three siblings were, in their own ways, traumatized by the divorce and the woman their father would take as his second wife. It caused each of the three to develop and act out in their own unique way. His older sister and mother would take an instant dislike to me. I represented everything that their family did not have; a stable home environment, plenty of money, attention, and self-esteem. They took every opportunity to cut into my sense of well-being. My boyfriend/husband did what he always did and tried to maintain the peace instead of taking sides or defending me in any way. Of course, that led to me thinking that something was wrong with me. Plus, I just didn’t understand why they had such a difficult time liking me. I never had to work so hard for acceptance.

When I got to college, I encountered the same difficulty. For the first time, I encountered serious difficulty in finding anyone with whom I could relate. I attended a very small, private college. I convinced myself that I chose this college based on its academics, music program and the fact I received a healthy scholarship, but in truth, I went there to follow my boyfriend who had started there one year prior. I thought I could fit into small town life and excel in a relatively small group of people. While I did excel academically, I did not excel at relationships. I had been built up from a young age to always look forward to college because that is where I would finally find peace in my environment. It would be this magical place where I would finally fit in and find peers that I could relate to. Hahahahaha. Was that ever wrong! Well, I suppose it could have been that way had I actually gone to where I wanted to go and where I knew I would best fit in instead of trying to force a fit that wasn’t there. It’s like having a size 10 foot and trying to squeeze it into a size 6 shoe. It doesn’t work. And I didn’t work at this college. However, I saw the fact that I didn’t fit in there as a failure on my part instead of looking at it for what it was. As a person that refuses to admit failure, I continued to push to make it work. To compensate for my growing dissatisfaction, I began using throwing up as a means to rid my mind of negative feelings. I learned that people didn’t want to help me or hear about my problems so I found a way to cope.

My other means of coping included taking up a flurry of activities and excelling at my studies. I flitted around from group to group until I found a few friends I could connect to. My friends changed from year to year as did my roommates. I finally decided that I did not want to finish out four years and to crown my perfectionism, I would graduate with a double major in three years. All of my friends were a year older than me and I didn’t want to be there any longer than necessary. My advanced placement test scores, CLEP scores and the fact I could balance 5-6 classes at a time as well as a part-time job, tutoring, choir, etc… helped me accomplish this and stay extremely busy. During this period I also got engaged, planned a wedding, graduated, interned at a major corporation, got a job with said corporation and then got married. It is enough to make my head spin even now. All of this in attempt to feel at the top of perfection again since, in my eyes, I had failed at so much.

From “special” adopted and only child baby to dissatisfied perfectionist adult; it has been quite the journey. I do not pretend to speak for all only children experiences, for other adoptees or for those like me that are both adopted and only-children. I’m sure my environment, the biological pieces that I know little about, plus my own choices in the circumstances life has handed me thus far has shaped me into this woman who is trying to understand who she is and why she has done and continues to do what she does. I’d be interested if any other only children who might happen to read this think about some of my thoughts and experiences and whether there are any similarities.

Quote

2006-09-18T13:37:00.000-07:00

Loneliness is the worst pain in this world. It constantly eats away the person's heart, and can cause the person to hate, to feel enraged--the same rage and hate that can cause one person to kill another. It is like a wound of the heart; the type of wounds that cannot go away with a kiss or a hug. The only thing that can make this great pain go away is love and compassion, another human heart to pull them out of this hell.
— Diana, Princess of Wales

Stupid, stupid

2006-09-18T11:43:00.000-07:00

Hmmm, let's see...tomato based vegetable soup for lunch is NOT a wise option for anyone suffering from heartburn. *sigh* So much for trying to be lowfat and healthy.

Finally...a new blog!

2006-09-18T11:19:00.000-07:00

I haven’t written on this blog for sometime now. I am not sure why. Maybe a fear of actually putting things down in writing again? Also, so much to say, I don't know where to begin? I don’t know. Sometimes I think the more I try to analyze myself and come up with some sort of rationalization for my behavior, the further I slip from understanding. I am encountering more and more frustration from others. To a “normal” person, the things that I have such difficulty with seem so simple to them and therefore there becomes a lack of understanding of what and why I do what I do.

I’m encounter some interesting “things.” A decrease in my bulimic behavior has led to a more serious depression. I have been trying and trying to not use throwing up as a means of “purging” (pardon the pun) my overwhelming emotions. Since I don’t have my typical form of release, I find myself slipping further into a pit of depression and despair that I am having a difficult time overcoming. I need more sleep. I am more melancholy. Sometimes I overcompensate for that by being excessively cheery and friendly. While I “speak up more” it is only when people ask the proper questions, not out of my own free will usually. I am becoming very angry at people letting my growing resentment bubble just under the surface.

I haven’t been to a counselor in a month and I can tell. I’ve been trying to self-medicate with over the counter sleeping pills to help me get some rest, but truthfully, it is doing very little good. My company switched our insurance in the middle of the year and the therapist I had been seeing is no longer on the provider list. I have such difficulty trusting people that this has sent me into a whole other stratosphere of stress. I know I need to continue to get treatment but the trauma of having to start over with someone new and place my trust in them is very overwhelming right now. I still have yet to see a doctor as well and that has GOT TO HAPPEN.

Last Friday, I got so overwhelmed that I cut myself again. I had such severe self-loathing. Again, it goes back to something that is seemingly such a simple thing to other people and yet, it is a difficult thing to me given my state of mind. It’s like I have 4 swirling vortexes of issues. Some things in each silo are related, yet some of them are very separate. It’s getting increasingly difficult to juggle. Two silos are much deeper than the others as well. Anyway, two silos were rather out of control and led to an overwhelming feeling of self-hatred and disgust with myself. I hadn’t eaten enough to throw up so I took out my office scissors and started in on myself. I got 5 cuts in on my left forearm before the shame started kicking in. I was in such an agitated state that I then took a leftover pain pill to calm myself down. Not exactly the best form of self-medication, but it temporarily worked. Later that night, I was at a party eating fried food and drinking wine and made myself throw-up. The fried food made me feel disgusting and I was just feeling terrible again. Admittedly, throwing up felt good. It always does for the moment. Then, as with the cutting, I go through the shame and guilt cycle over having given into it again.

Ugh! Terrible place right now. Much more to write, but I can’t do it anymore. Must get back to focusing on work.

Complications

2006-08-10T04:39:00.000-07:00

Well, I am finally allowing myself to admit that I have physical problems. Yesterday, I had to go to the dentist to get a filling. I have never had a cavity in my life. In fact, it was supposed to be nearly impossible for me to get a cavity because I had sealant on all of my molars. Something had eroded most of them causing a cavity. I really didn't make the correlation until I was laying in bed last night with joint aches. I got up and went to the computer to read a little more about it. My joint aches could be caused by a number of things including a sodium and/or potassium deficiency. That could also be causing my headaches. So, in other words, my body is very obviously imbalanced.

Procrastination and Perfectionism

2006-08-09T12:16:00.000-07:00

I'm going to start out sounding like I'm in an AA meeting. "My name is ____ and I am a perfectionist." As a result of this, I also am a procrastinator in the worse sense. A friend recently pointed out all of the major life changes that I am avoiding, conversations I am running from and a general lack of urgency when it comes to taking care of myself emotionally and physically. It is true. I am avoiding. I am scared to take the next steps.

In an effort to understand this problem that I have, I did some research. I'm posting some of the more interesting paragraphs of information I read. Articles are in red, parts I feel that are really applicable to me are blue and bolded and my own thoughts are remarks are in black.

One article was found on Science Daily.

Prof. Gordon Flett and a team of Canadian researchers in a landmark study have developed a 45-item questionnaire to identify the three types of perfectionists: self-oriented perfectionists (expect perfection of themselves); other-oriented perfectionists (demand perfection from other people); and socially prescribed perfectionists (think others expect perfection from them). The Multidimensional Perfectionism Scale, as it is also known, was just published this week by Multi-Health Systems Inc., based in Toronto. It is the first published scale that focuses specifically on perfectionism from a multidimensional perspective.

"Perfectionism is the need to be or to appear perfect," says Flett. "Perfectionists are persistent, detailed and organized high achievers. Perfectionists vary in their behaviors: some strive to conceal their imperfections; others attempt to project an image of perfection. But all perfectionists have in common extremely high standards for themselves or for others."

Moreover, Flett, who is also Canada Research Chair in Personality and Health, adds that certain forms of perfectionism can be linked to a host of emotional, physical and relationship problems, including depression, eating disorders, marital discord and even suicide. "Perfectionism is not officially recognized as a psychiatric disorder. However extreme forms of perfectionism should be considered an illness similar to narcissism, obsessive compulsiveness, dependent-personality disorder and other personality disorders because of its links to distress and dysfunction."

He adds that perfectionists reveal themselves in three distinct ways: first, a "self-promotion" style, that involves attempts to impress others by bragging or displaying one's perfection (this type is easy to spot because they often irritate other people); second, by shunning situations in which they might display their imperfection (common even in young children); and third, a tendency to keep problems to oneself (including an inability to admit failure to others).

*Ten Top Signs Your a Perfectionist
Are you a perfectionist? Flett has devised a list of telltale signs:
1. You can't stop thinking about a mistake you made.
2. You are intensely competitive and can't stand doing worse than others.
3. You either want to do something "just right" or not at all.
4. You demand perfection from other people.
5. You won't ask for help if asking can be perceived as a flaw or weakness.
6. You will persist at a task long after other people have quit.
7. You are a fault-finder who must correct other people when they are wrong.
8. You are highly aware of other people's demands and expectations.
9. You are very self-conscious about making mistakes in front of other people.
10. *You noticed the error in the title of this list.

For me, the only statements that do not apply are 4 and 7. I am only a perfectionist and overly critical with myself. And the really interesting that was that I was VERY annoyed at this article at first for publishing with a grammatical error (note #10).

Another article really hit the nail on the head for me. In fact, I really didn't realize I thought this way until I read this and completely identified with what it said.

Perfectionism is a psychological orientation which, depending on the severity, may have biological and/or environmental causes. To an educated observer, a perfectionist orientation is usually evident by the preschool years, though it may not cause problems until the college years. The perfectionist orientation has two components: impossibly high standards, and the behaviors intended to help achieve the standards and avoid mistakes. The high standards interfere with performance, and perfectionist behavior becomes an obstacle instead of a means to achieving the goal.

Due to obsessive effort and high standards of performance combined with natural gifts, perfectionists may be athletic, musical, academic, or social achievers, but they may equally as often be underachievers. Perfectionists engage in dichotomous thinking, believing that there is only one right outcome and one way to achieve that outcome. Dichotomous thinking causes indecisiveness, since according to the individual's perception a decision, once made, will be either entirely right or entirely wrong. Due to their exacting precision, they take an excessive amount of time to perform tasks. Even small tasks become overwhelming, which leads to frustration, procrastination, and further anxiety caused by time constraints.

Perfectionists also pay selective attention to their own achievements, criticizing themselves for mistakes or failures, and downplaying their successes. Overwhelmed by anxiety about their future performance, they are unable to enjoy successes.

Perfectionist anxiety can cause headaches, digestive problems, muscle tension, and heart and vascular problems. Anxiety can also cause "blanking" or temporary memory losses before events such as musical performances or academic exams. Perfectionists also hesitate to try new activities for fear of being a beginner at an activity, even for a short period of time. Negative effects of perfectionism are felt especially when an individual is a perfectionist in all areas of life, rather than in one realm, such as an artistic or scientific pursuit, which might allow room for mistakes in other areas of life.

In extreme forms perfectionism may contribute to depression or be diagnosed as obsessive-compulsive personality disorder (which should be distinguished from the more serious obsessive compulsive disorder ). The more common syndromes of anorexia nervosa and bulimia nervosa can be considered an extreme form of perfectionism directed towards the body and its appearance. The irrational distortions of perception that can arise from abnormally high standards of "performance" (i.e., thinness) are evident in the anorexic's perception of her or himself as fat.

Perfectionist behavior functions essentially to control events. Conditions that place the child in a position of vulnerability and/or that require the child to take extra responsibility for events can contribute to perfectionism. First-born children, children with excessively critical parents, and children who have lost a parent or sibling all may be predisposed towards perfectionism. It is estimated that 15% of gifted children will struggle with perfectionism at some point in their lives. Although it may not be immediately evident, often there is a sense of vulnerability, inferiority, shame, or guilt behind perfectionist efforts. The perfectionist's continual high achievements and/or control over events do not lead to satisfaction because there is always something to criticize or worry about, or another goal to achieve.

The last article I read is from the University of Texas at Austin. Highlights include:

Sometimes it's hard to distinguish motivation for healthy achievement from unhealthy perfectionism, and sometimes we make the distinction even harder by holding on to myths about perfectionism. This makes life a good deal more difficult than need be. Below are common myths about perfectionism.

MYTH: I wouldn't be the success I am today if I weren't such a perfectionist.
REALITY: Perfectionism does not lead to success and fulfillment.

Although some perfectionists are remarkably successful, what they fail to realize is that their success has been achieved despite-not because of-their compulsive striving.

There is no evidence that perfectionists are more successful than their non-perfectionistic counterparts. There is evidence that given similar levels of talent, skill or intellect, perfectionists perform less successfully than non-perfectionists.

MYTH: Perfectionists get things done and they do things right.
REALITY: Perfectionists often have problems with procrastination, missed deadlines, and low productivity.

Psychologists find that perfectionists tend to be "all-or-nothing" thinkers. They see events and experiences as either good or bad, perfect or imperfect, with nothing in between. Such thinking often leads to procrastination, because a requirement of flawless perfection, in even the smallest of tasks, can become fearfully overwhelming. The perfectionist believes that the flawless product or superb performance must be produced every time. Perfectionists believe if it can't be done perfectly, it's not worth doing.

Such beliefs often lead to undesired results. A perfectionist student may turn in a paper weeks late (or not at all), rather than turn it in on time with less-than-perfect sentences. A perfectionist worker may spend so much time agonizing over some non-critical detail that a critical project misses its deadline.

MYTH: Perfectionists just have this enormous desire to please others and to be the very best they can.
REALITY: Perfectionistic tendencies often begin as an attempt to win love, acceptance, and approval.

Perfectionists are driven by low self-esteem, so their own needs ultimately blind them to the needs and wishes of others. Indeed, their compulsiveness may lead others to beg for a change that the perfectionist cannot or will not make. Perfectionism is more likely to complicate than enhance one's relationships.

And lastly, a parable that was used to illustrate the problem with perfectionism.

One of the characteristics of perfectionists is their "value rigidity." They refuse to let go of particular ideas, even in the face of obvious evidence to the contrary. Here is a fable illustrating the pitfalls of value rigidity, adapted from Robert Pirsig's well-known work, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.

The "South Indian Monkey Trap" was developed by villagers to catch the ever-present and numerous small monkeys in that part of the world. It involves a hollowed-out coconut chained to a stake. The coconut has some rice inside which can be seen through a small hole. The hole is just big enough so that the monkey can put his hand in, but too small for his fist to come out after he has grabbed the rice.

Tempted by the rice, the monkey reaches in and is suddenly trapped. He is not able to see that it is his own fist that traps him, his own desire for the rice. He rigidly holds on to the rice, because he values it. He cannot let go and by doing so retain his freedom. So the trap works and the villagers capture him.

Perfectionists need to rethink their own values and decide whether they are going to continue to be trapped by these values or free themselves.

So what does all of this have to do with me? EVERYTHING! I am realizing more and more that I tend to see everything in black and white. This stems from perfectionism, but probably also from religious orientation that mistakes are eternally punishable. As I read these articles, I can see all of the ways the perfectionist tendencies have manifested themselves in every single area of my life from college to work, family relationships, marriage, friendships, etc... Everything is right or wrong. I live in a self-created world of absolutes the define my entire life. Breaking out and letting go of any absolute belief I have held is VERY, VERY difficult for me.

This then leads to my problem with bulimia. It is not only a perfectionist body image issue but also an action by which I punish myself for infractions that go into all of the gray areas or even when I do something I would categorize as "black." A sin. A moral wrongness. Mentally I do not allow myself to be human. I will go through periods of rebellion against my beliefs. A sort of self-sabotage. To use the monkey trap parable, I am still the monkey holding onto the rice but I'm forcing my hand out with the rice no matter how much I disfigure my hand. Does that makes sense?

Mind you, I'm still not at the point of going into the gray areas, accepting that I am a human and making enormous amounts of change, but I am recognizing my "problems" more and more. What will it take to let go of the rice? I'm not quite sure yet. It is a very difficult move to make without a support system. Any change is scary. Changing on my own is even more terrifying. Eventually though, I will get tired of holding onto the rice. It's exhausting and imprisoning.

Friendly Advice

2006-08-09T12:05:00.000-07:00

A good friend recently told me the following quote after I laid out my life issues.
"People often say life is too short. Actually, life is too long. Think about that."

Thank you friend, I will.

Parents

2006-08-07T11:37:00.000-07:00

Well, I did something I shouldn't have. It started out innocently enough. My parents are on vacation and my husband and I are taking care of their house. I got on my mom's America Online account to look up an email address and saw an email from that person. I opened it to get the address and saw that said friend had replied to something my mom had sent to her about me and "problem" and my marriage. So, of course, I went to the sent mail to see what my mom had written. That was a mistake. It sent me into a depression.

The basic gist was that she hasn't spent much time with me and she spends more time with her neighbor Amy than me. And that it is hard for her and my dad to watch my marriage deteriorate but they don't want to get involved. Also, because of my depression (yes, she won't actually call it an eating disorder) and the marital problems, they are having a hard time adjusting to the move and are thankful that they get to go out of town frequently so they don't feel as down.

So, in my twisted little mind, I felt like I had ruined everyone's life at the moment. My parents were expecting to move to FL to be with me and my husband in their retirement and instead are trying to distract themselves away from us. They still won't call my problem what it is. My mom at least seems to deal better with the me having "depression" rather than the fact I make myself throw-up. Of course my marriage is crumbling as well. And because I opened up my mouth to a particular someone several months ago, I started a chain of events in this person's life that have led to a lot of heartache. So, in short, I almost feel like my ruined life is better than six people's lives being in turmoil. 1 to 6.

I'm sure as anyone is reading this they think my thought process is really whacked. Of course it is. I wouldn't have a problem if I thought normally. Intellectually I know that I am not ruining other people's lives and such, but I feel it. For someone that is constantly thinking about what I can do for other people and that I don't want to burden anyone with my problems, the fact that I am affecting others is really bothersome. I feel selfish.

2nd Blog

2006-08-04T11:18:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed that I have removed a few of my posts. They have been put on a the 2nd blog site I created. I decided that this blog was becoming rather unfocused with my compulsive need to write about other random things in my life. So, this blog will be for all things related to my eating disorder and attempt at recovering and my other blog will be for everything else.

http://myrunningcommentary.blogspot.com

2006-08-03T15:38:00.000-07:00

Relapse

Continuing thoughts from my Denial post.

I am relapsing. And I can't beat myself up for it. I've thrown up 5 times in the past week. Most of it has to do with the fact that I cannot, or will not, or am unable to talk to my husband. Last night we had my parents over for dinner before they went on vacation. I cooked a really delcious pasta dish (however, keep in mind that I love to throw up pasta). I set our dining room table, busted out the wine, put on a happy face and let myself have a good time. Afterward though, I actually felt sick from eating so much. I was also annoyed that everyone was having such a good time. I was mad at myself for eating so much. I continue to be irritated by the fact my husband won't acknowledge anything I'm dealing with. I'm irritated with my inability to speak. I procrastinate so much of it because I feel guilty of about things I've done out of hurt and anger. Kind of a "who am I to get mad?" type of thing. I want to run away. I get tired of thinking so much. It scares me how much I still crave throwing up over things. One would think that I would be more horrified after actually knowing what I'm doing to myself.

You know what's sad? I really don't even remember what it feels like to be completely well. The last time I was completely well both mentally and physically was when I was 18 years old. That's a long time ago...almost 8 years. I will probably break down in a fit of sobs the first time I don't feel sick after eating or getting mid-afternoon headaches from dehydration or be able to actually get my teeth whitened for good without having to worry about acid ruining the new finish. What it would feel like for my gums not be swollen or my cheeks not to be a little unnaturally puffy or my glands to not feel like little rocks in my throat. I would love to go back to the time I didn't beat my mind senseless for the smallest of infractions and punish myself for mistakes. Oh to be 18 again and know what I know now.

2006-08-03T07:43:00.000-07:00

I liked this...

My favorite thing ever said about ENFP's
"ENFPs have what some call a "silly switch." They can be intellectual, serious, all business for a while, but whenever they get the chance, they flip that switch and become CAPTAIN WILDCHILD, the scourge of the swimming pool, ticklers par excellence. Sometimes they may even appear intoxicated when the "switch" is flipped.

I've been asked how I could cope and hide having a problem such as bulimia for so long. One reason is the secrecy and perfectionism, but the other is that in all honestly, I can't STAND to be serious for too long. By nature, I am a happy and positive person. I cannot dwell on negatives for an extended period of time. When that "switch" gets flipped, I am silly as all get out. If I have had a busy day at work, I turn into a raging smart-ass around 3:30. My mind craves some humor. It's nice to know that other people with the same personality type have the same issue.

2006-08-02T11:29:00.000-07:00

Interesting article distinguishing different types of bulimia.

Simple Bulimia Nervosa is an illness that begins most commonly when the girls are about 18 yrs of age. They are a fairly normal group before the illness. They tend to have been mildly under confident and unassertive but come from a broad range of unexceptional family backgrounds. They have probably made friends in a normal way at school and are often fairly popular. The illness is frequently triggered by a period of unhappiness and this is often caused by a destructive relationship with a boyfriend. The feeling of self dislike focuses on appearance and dieting is begun in an attempt to improve self esteem. In contrast to an anorexic the diet is not very successful with the rigid control needed breaking down into bouts of cheating. Vomiting is used as part of increased efforts to achieve the weight loss and so the cycle of bingeing and vomiting begins. There is more loss of control as the body's normal mechanisms of appetite control are over ridden and confused. The weight will remain close to normal but the eating pattern becomes gradually worse. This form of bulimia is the least severe but the severity varies considerably. It is likely that there are large numbers of girls with fairly mild symptoms that never come to medical help but there is a significant risk that it will slowly get worse with time. A common time for sufferers to seek help is when they are planning to start a family in their early twenties and are concerned about possible effects on having babies.

Anorexic Bulimia Nervosa is a variant of the illness that is preceded by a bout of Anorexia Nervosa. Quite often this anorexic episode is a brief one and the sufferer begins to recover without treatment. It is followed typically by a short period of stabilised weight just below that at which the menstruation may restart, around 46 kg. The control of the anorexic is not sustained and bingeing begins usually in a very small way but becomes more severe especially once vomiting begins. Often they begin by vomiting after what would for a normal person be an ordinary meal but this leads to a loss of control of the appetite drive and true bingeing gradually starts. Occasionally the vomiting and bingeing start first but then there is a period of significant weight loss in an anorexic phase that includes restrictive eating. The illness becomes dominated by the bingeing and vomiting behaviour but the weight remains low for a while before gradually rising to near and in time above normal. The personality profile and backgrounds of these girls is similar as for a group with Anorexia Nervosa. A description may be found in the leaflet "Introducing Anorexia Nervosa". When there are differences the Bulimic group seem to be slightly less obsessive and to be marginally more mature in emotional development. The are more likely to have boyfriends and to show their feelings.

Multi-impulsive Bulimia Nervosa is a severe variant of Bulimia Nervosa that begins in a similar way to Simple Bulimia and in a similar age group of girls. This group suffer with a range of abnormal behaviours all of which indicate problems of emotional and impulse control. Often some of these other behaviours are already causing difficulty before the Bulimia begins. In association with the eating disorder will be found a mix of other problems including drug abuse, alcohol abuse, deliberate self harm (usually cutting of forearms), stealing and promiscuity. They have a range of backgrounds but it is quite common to find that there is a high level of disturbance within the family. In personality they are likely to have shown evidence of poor impulse control from an early age and they often have rather poor records of schooling, academic achievement, or making friends that last. They have a difficulty in modifying their behaviour because of predictable consequences of their actions and as result helping them to change the pattern of their lives often requires prolonged help. The severity of the illness as with all types of bulimia is varied and in this group it seems to depend on severity of the underlying abnormality personality.

2006-08-02T11:16:00.000-07:00

Support

I am realizing more and more how absolutely imperitive it is to have a support system while trying to deal with an eating disorder or any self-injurous behaviors. People with eating disorders are surrounded by those that don't care, don't want to get involved or frightened by what you are dealing with. How do I know this? I am surrounded by such people...not all, but most. I am blessed to have a few people in my life that truly express not only care and concern but encouragement to get better. I am so thankful for the few. But, most people leave me feeling very lonely and regretting I ever said anything in the first place.

Much of my silence comes from how I was treated after I cut myself in college. I was met with ignorance, ignoring, outright hostility and people that just avoided me and looked at me like I was a freak. One of the avoiders was actually the person I married. Much of his avoidence was due to the fact he felt responsible. In some ways, he was. I had a blow-out argument with him that resulted in the more horrific feeling of hopelessness I have ever experienced. In some ways, I have never gotten over that feeling.

I joined an online message board for people that are attempting to recovery from an Eating Disorder. While I am not big on replacing actual people for cyber friends, reading and "interacting" with others going through similar experiences on the road to trying to recover is very powerful. Instead of feeling hopeless, you get the small inkling of "I can do this! I can beat this! One day I will feel like myself again. I am not alone in this world." Again, it goes back to the need to be heard.

My husband continues to ignore and therefore invalidate. He's talking about buying a house. Dear God could anything be further from what I need at the moment? Is he really just that clueless or is this a desperate attempt to find and cling to something normal and domestic? I don't know. I really don't. Our two attempts at martial counseling have fallen by the wayside. As a small test, I didn't bring up the counseling (since I was the one that booked it anyway) to see if he would care enough to want to continue. It has now been 4 weeks since our last appointment and not a single word has been said. He doesn't ask about my personal counseling nor does he ask how I feel. He asks how my day is going but not how I am doing. He'll go out of his way to tell my how physically beautiful I am, but says nothing about how beautiful he finds me as a person. Maybe he feels that if he tells me I am attractive enough, that will somehow get me to stop trying to be thin. What he doesn't realize though is that what I do has so very, very little to do with wanting to be thin.

Am I wrong to want my husband to take an active and encouraging stance in my disorder of his own accord? Am I putting too much blame on him when I don't tell him what I want and need? The fundamental problem is that I don't know how to tell him what I want and need from him. I lose my voice. He is fully aware of my disorder but sits back and passively lets me deal with it. That is not support. That is a wall. I am living with someone that doesn't know how or doesn't want to help me. I feel like his cute, intelligent wife he can show off as long as I keep up the facade. Dear God, let's not acknowledge that she has a problem. If I acknowledge it, then it might actually be real.

The truth is, I don't know how to get better while remaining in the relationship. I don't know if I am capable. I have to start surrounding myself with people that are going to work with me to get through this. Not people that ignore and perpetuate the problem. As my therapist has been saying, "I need to shit or get off the pot." In other words, I need to start turning those people in my life loose and get back to the ones that really care. And not only care in thought, but act like that care and do things because they care.

2006-08-01T04:55:00.000-07:00

Oh what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practice to deceive!

- Sir Walter Scott

2006-07-31T06:42:00.000-07:00

Denial

"'Be what you would seem to be' -- or, if you'd like it put more simply -- 'Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise.'"

"I think I should understand that better," Alice said very politely, "if I had it written down: but I can't quite follow it as you say it."

-Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

I can feel myself doing it. I can actually feel myself going into denial mode. One would think if I could feel it, I would stop it. Yes, to a normal functioning mind, that would make perfect sense. But I would argue my mind is not entirely "normal functioning" or rational for that matter.

I look at myself and think "I'm not skinny" so I'm not extreme on that front. I get severe heartburn, but so what? Lots of people without eating disorders have heartburn. Maybe mine has nothing to do with that. My gums get swollen but that could just be from stress. Maybe I have glands that are swollen but to be honest, I have no idea what normal glands are as I have not stopped throwing up for years. Life has slipped back into the "comfortable" unacknowledgement that I have grown accustomed to. I have gotten over the horror of what I'm doing to myself. A few months ago, I was so terrified at what I was doing to my body. The realization that I stick my fingers down my throat sometimes daily to barf up food became absolutely disgusting to me. Now, it has lost its horror. I'm almost comfortable with it again. "So what?" I keep asking myself. Is it really that big of a deal?

I'm sitting here on a Monday morning with just terrific heartburn. I woke up with it this morning. I had it last night too and my normal cure of Zantac did absolutely nothing to heal it over night. I'm trying to drink tea to get some caffine so I can wake up. Tea is slightly better than coffee on beverages that upset my stomach. Even as I'm sipping tea and reading the paragraph above, I'm not as upset by this comfortableness as I know I should be. Disconnecting, disengaging, and separation. I'm not feeling it. I'm not feeling anything except tiredness. I am so damn tired all the time!

My counselors keep asking me what its going to take for me to act? To put to a halt the facade. To force change. To start being me again. Hell, I don't know. I had a bad relapse of vomiting this weekend. I did okay yesterday but the day before I went to eat with my parents, husband and cousin visiting from Chicago. She had brought her roommate as well and they were staying with her mom and step-dad in a neighboring city. We went to this southern cooking restaurant. We all ate ridiculous amounts of food. Appetizers, crab cake, bread, cheesy broccoli-rice casserole, green beans, dessert... It was ridiculous. And here was my skinny-ass cousin sitting next to me talking about how much food she eats. I was so annoyed. So I ate and ate and threw the whole damn thing up. It was a lot and I felt terrible afterward. But of course, I've perfected the art of doing it quickly, quietly and fixing myself so I look "normal." My mom was standing outside the bathroom when I got out. I think she knew something, but she didn't say anything. And life just rolls on...

So what is it going to take? Hmmm...Sometimes I have a fantasy of doing something drastic. I feel like its not bad enough for anyone to care. I still look normal, I still act normal...so maybe I am normal. But I'm not. And I keep rationalizing it away...

2006-07-30T19:30:00.000-07:00

In A Rut...

Hmmm…I haven’t posted in a almost a week. I’ve been feeling stuck in a rut, in all parts of my life. I’m in a rut at work just waiting for decisions to be made at a higher level that will perhaps directly affect me at a lower level. Of course that is always the case isn’t it?

I’m in a rut in my counseling and in my personal life. Both father and daughter of the counseling duo think most of my eating disorder stems from my relationship with my husband. We’ve been together since I was 16. Growing up together, we developed some good habits but also some very destructive habits as well. I have basically been “kicked out” of my sessions until I am able to “confront”/communicate some of my feelings to my husband. Of course so many things are welling up in me that I want to come out, but they have yet to do so. We’re getting along so well, I just don’t have the heart. And selfishly, I’m just not ready to be the “bad guy” yet.

And now, after reading the previous paragraph, I realize how ridiculous I sound sometime. Why is everything my fault? Why can’t my brain process that other people have hurt me and I am not to blame for their stupidity? It’s like there is a short circuit somewhere. What frustration!

I’m in such a rut, I can’t even think what to type. Maybe tomorrow I’ll go off on a social subject and leave me out of it. After all, it’s not all about me. Sometimes I feel like such a whiner! I also have three drafts saved. Maybe I'll finish my thoughts on one of those.

Until then...

2006-07-24T18:08:00.000-07:00

All By Myself...

I am home by myself tonight. My husband is working some overtime at work. While it may not be on purpose, I am somewhat amused by the fact that all of a sudden he has all of this overtime to work. Avoidance? I'm beginning to think so. So, I have now eaten two bowls of noodles. I'm now in a danger zone because I perversely love throwing up anything pasta. All that starch and butter! It's just the best. I'm feeling especially ornery tonight as I've had almost an entire bottle of wine. Yes, almost a whole bottle. I plan to finish it off. Why the hell not? Oh yeah... I'm cooking now. Maybe I'll even have a glass of amaretto after that just to top it all off. I found the best combination is actually some wine and a muscle relaxant. I know...bad, bad, bad. I get so stressed out and aggitated at times that a nerve in my back will start spasing out. Very, very painful! Anyway, they prescribe me wonderful pain killers and things to make me not so damn tense.

Anyway, back to what I actually wanted write about. I'm getting off track! I'm procrastinating! Maybe I shouldn't drink and blog at the same time!

So I read on some eating disorder recovery site that I should look to my family history because the tendency to develop and eating disorder could be inherited. Well, that would be just peachy if I KNEW anyone in my family. Unfortunately, or fortunately, I am adopted. Of course, the first thing people ask if I decide to share that bit of myself with you is "Do you know who your birth mom is? Have you met her?" I'm not going to answer those questions on this post. I suppose I am want to keep something for a later post as this post continues to go nowhere. I better just publish it.

2006-07-24T13:07:00.000-07:00

The Need ToBe Heard

It occurred to me that the need to be heard is probably one of the most fundamental needs a human can have. We need acknowledgement. We need someone to look at us. We need to know that others know we exist. We need to know that not only do others know we exist but that our existence means something.

I used to judge my husband’s mother a lot. She left my husband’s dad for several months and then decided to file for divorce. She left three children, however, getting custody after the divorce. I used to sit there and think, “How could a mother do that to her children? Was her life so bad? She’s so selfish!” One night though, I let her talk about that situation and I tried to listen with an open mind. I had heard plenty from my husband’s dad. I heard how he tried to get her to stay and think about the children, etc… He always found a way to not take responsibility for the situation and make it all about her. However, that night I listened to her. What she had to stay didn’t register with me until just recently as I’ve been acknowledging my own thought deficiencies.

Her problem boiled down to the fact that she felt she was no longer heard. And in fact, knowing my husband’s father, I would wager she was not. The one person she wanted most to support her as a person, support her goals, support her dreams, etc… was not listening. She had grown and changed as a person and wanted different things out of life than before. She no longer felt safe to become the person she felt was brewing inside. She felt stuck. She felt UNHEARD and therefore, unimportant and invalidated. That feeling can drive people to do really crazy things. She didn’t know what else to do so she left. She left to be heard. She left so she didn’t do the one thing that she had rolled around and that was ending her own life.

I look at my own situation right now and what I have been doing to myself and it really boils down to the same thing. I am not being heard. I feel like I am screaming and screaming. And everyone is just acting like nothing is wrong. I finally feel like I understand where my husband’s mom was coming from. Invalidation makes me feel like a caged animal. It must have made her the same way. Desperate. Asking “What do I have to do to get someone’s attention?” Her answer may have not been the best one, but when you are that desperate to feel “normal,” anything seems better than where the mind is at in the moment.

The need to be heard. The need to feel validated. The need to feel like you are free to be yourself. Yes, those needs are so important. Most importantly to feel all those things from the person who is supposed to love you more than anything. And the feeling of total rejection and emptiness one feels when that person doesn’t even acknowledge that there is so hurtful.

2006-07-24T04:40:00.000-07:00

New Favorite Movie Quote:

Last night I watched the movie "Upside of Anger." It was a delightful movie full of sarcasm, cynical humor and truth. And also a little bit of a viewpoint of life that was a bit hard to watch... But that's another post.

Within this movie is quote that had me in stitches. Maybe part of it was the 4 glasses of wine too...I don't know but here it is. A mother is confronting a 40 year old on why he is dating her 19 year old daughter...

Adam "Shep" Goodman: Who should I sleep with, Terry? Women like you? Your age? My age? I don't. You know why? 'Cause younger women are nice. You take them out, and they're actually grateful. "oh look, a steak. Yummy." You go for a walk after dinner and the air smells nice, they say, "Thank you. This was nice. This was fun. You're funny. Tee-hee-hee." What should I do, Terry? Settle down and marry some pissed-off thing like you?

...and here's the best part (could be applied to anything unpleasant in life)...

I'd rather have someone come over and do dental work, EVERY DAY, from my backside, through my ASS!

Classic. Just classic, I say.

Another good one is when Kevin Costner's character is with Terry (the mom who's husband has left her) and is fed up with her antics. He rants,

I am so SICK of being your bitch. I put up with your shit because I know how much PAIN you're in! But it's ENOUGH! It's a tall order for a patient motherfucker, and I am the furthest thing from that you're ever going to lay eyes on.

Hahaha. People really aren't allowed to be in too much pain. Others get sick of you. It is sadly true. A woman mopes around a little too long after her husband dies and she "just needs to start moving on with life." A guy struggling with depression after a divorce and he "just needs to get laid." Anyone struggling just needs to be put on happy pills. It's sad really. Sometimes I don't know why Hollywood gets paid so much to act when everyday people in their everyday lives act so often and so well. We go to work and snap-to-it regardless that personal lives are falling apart. We go home, kiss our kids, make dinner, have lively conversation for the family's sake and then weep silently to ourselves at night. Is it right? Is it good? Is it really healthy to sacrifice ourselves for the sake of others to the point of harming ourselves? Does God really want people to be miserable but stay with things because society has deemed it the "right" thing to do? Because by God, we have responsibilities! I don't know. I'm rambling at this point.

I guess I will leave you with this... If you know someone that is going through something, maybe listen for a change. It might not be something they can "just get over." Plus, you never know when you are going to need the listening reciprocated and I guarantee you, the friend you helped will never forget what you did and therefore will be very willing to return the favor.

2006-07-21T11:29:00.000-07:00

Java Addiction

So, I have a coffee addiction. Seriously. I resigned myself when I started getting massive heartburn everyday as well as just general nausea, that I was going to eliminate as many foods and drinks known to upset my stomach as I could. This meant coffee as well. I didn't even make it one week. The three mornings I attempted to be good, I was all out of sorts. So I caved and suffered through my heartburn just to feel normal otherwise. I can't decide which is worse...no coffee means no morning heartburn but then I get headaches and my brain is foggy but then coffee means heartburn but I feel energized and fine otherwise. What a dilemma. Damned if I do, damned if I don't. So I'm going to say damn it all and just have my coffee.

2006-07-20T13:23:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure where I got this quote or anything else about it such as context or author, but I found it when going through my e-files and thought I would post it. I think it is very true.

"I suppose anger drives people to extreme measures, just like passion does. Human emotion has strange needs beyond the logical."

2006-07-17T16:16:00.000-07:00

One last thought...

I am chuckling right now because I did a little reverse spying on our home computer to see what my husband got into of mine. He found some old poetry I had written and typed up to keep. He didn't know I was the author because it wasn't listed on the page so he was Googling every single poem trying to search for the author. I laughed and laughed when I saw that. Here's one I wrote in college.

Something is wrong
when I have to remind you to write,
say goodbye before I leave,
tell me good night and sleep tight
and to have sweet dreams.

Something is wrong
when you seem more excited
to stay away with newfound friends
than to fall into my waiting arms
and be kissed by luscious lips.

Something is wrong
when someone I've barely met
cares more about how I am
than you who is so
so tightly wrapped inside yourself.

2006-07-17T16:08:00.000-07:00

Secrets and Lies

Yes, bulimics are highly secretive people. I am a highly secretive person. An unwelcome invasion of privacy is one of the fastest ways to upset me. My husband continues to invade my privacy unwelcomed. It is starting to really grate on my nerves...and to be honest, I don't have many left. I am getting many sarcastic remarks about the things I keep hidden. Sometimes I just want one place that I know is safe. Once place I know that is all mine and will go untouched by anyone else. One place where only God can see. Is nothing sacred anymore???

Sadly, I have taken to hiding a few precious things in my office because it is the only place that goes undistrubed. My husband's admission to spying on me was just devestating. Now, I am not saying that there are secrets I have kept hidden and lies that I have told that are not in their own way destructive. But a big part of my illness is a struggle with control. If someone tries to take what precious little control I feel I have, I am just going to find another way to hide. I will get more inventive. I will perfect a new art of secrecy. Throwing it in my face is only going to succeed in making me more and more angry and resentful. More so than I am already.

If he would actually research my illness and try to understand it, he would learn these things, but alas, he lives in his own delusion and I remain in mine. I am still alone. I am still unheard. I continue to silently scream and scream.

2006-07-17T16:02:00.000-07:00

I found this poem on a recovery site for people suffering from eating disorders. I related to it so I thought I would post it.

The Porcelain Doll
by: Courtney

A perfect little girl, the picture of grace
Everyone is fooled when they look at her face
They think she's content and worry free
Not caring at all about who she should be.
She hides inside of herself, protected by a shell
Pretending she's fine so that other's can't tell.
"If they knew the truth, that i am really unsure,
Then they would take care of me, trying desperatly to find a cure.
I can't be a burden, so i'll just lie,
Laughing it off when i really want to die.
"Her bright shiny eyes only sparkle with glass
And her painted red lips never let true feeling pass.
Is this really the girl that she wants to be?
Why can't she say, i just want to be me.
Because she is scared of what others will do
Will she be accepted or considered taboo?
Her sweet china mask will keep her safe
But she has forgotten how easily china can break.
So they fix her up with a dab of glue
Not really caring if that's what is true.
It never really matters if she's truly herself
As long as she looks perfect when placed on the shelf.

2006-07-07T14:05:00.000-07:00

I am reading a book called “Wasted” by Marya Hornbacher. It is a memoir of dealing with anorexia and bulimia. While I have never been anorexic, I am relating to this book. The following is a passage that hit home. It was written while she was in a bulimic stage.

“And we did not mention, or perhaps we did not notice, that not only was I the problem, but that I had a problem. I knew, by then, that I had a problem. I knew it the way alcoholics know in the back of their brain that they have a problem. They know, but they don’t believe it’s out of control. The convenience in having an eating disorder is that you believe, by definition, that your eating disorder cannot get out of control, because it is control. It is, you believe, your only means of control, so how could it possibly control you?

You know, for example, that making yourself an entire box of macaroni for dinner one night, drowning it in butter, and shoveling it into your mouth is being out of control. But it’s really okay, you say to yourself, because you’re going to puke, you’re going to be overcome by an uncontrollable-oops-urge to throw up, thereby taking back control. You’ll breathe easier, your stomach will no longer be distended or your face bloated. Your soul will be at ease. You’ll get the bright idea to have a drink. You’ll go into the kitchen, drink bad red wine until you’re bombed and happy as a pig in clover, and walk up and down the hall juggling oranges, and then remember that wine has calories. You’ll return to the bathroom, throw it up, and go to sleep. A problem? Yes, eating is definitely a problem. Got to stop eating.”

Before I read this particular section, I wrote the following after a particularly bad night last week. I have not cut myself since my freshman year of college…almost 7 years ago. I was treated like such a freak after that episode, that I turned to hurting myself in a much more secretive way; throwing up. However, I was so agitated after an episode with my husband that I cut myself again. I cut myself ten times to be exact, five on each arm. Oh I was a mess doing it. I rationalized at the time that I was too upset to eat. Therefore, I had nothing to throw up. I had to make myself feel better. I cried and cried. Afterward I decided to write about it. I wrote the following:

“I’m sitting here watching welts form on newly broken skin. I find it terribly satisfying to feel my arms burning with delicious pain. To watch little beads of blood form above each welt and feel the sting as my nerves regain feeling. I am also simultaneously crying because I have given in yet again to the need to inflict pain on myself. I feel like such a failure. Yet strangely, it feels so good to feel so miserable. Maybe I will feel well enough to go to sleep. I must deserve such pain. Pain is comfort.

I haven’t felt this kind of pain in years. Tonight I didn’t eat dinner. It was not my original intent but the events that transpired over the course of the evening prevented me from having an appetite. Sometimes I wish I disciplined enough just to stop eating. At least if I stopped eating, I would stop throwing up because there wouldn’t be anything to throw up. What I really wanted that night was pasta. Pasta with just butter and parmesan cheese is one of the easiest things to purge. I love the way the pasta fills me up. Even more satisfying is emptying that fullness into the toilet.”

At this point, I am interrupted at 11:30pm by my husband who walks out in his bathroom demanding to know what I was writing. I was crumpling up one writing attempt. I said nothing and he went back into the bedroom. I threw the crumpled sheet away but stuck what I had just written into the book “Wasted.” My husband must have seen me do it because the next morning, when I got up, I noticed that the book and paper had been moved.

My therapist once told me to keep a journal. Her father, also a therapist and sitting in on some initial sessions, answered for me. He said, “She doesn’t trust enough to write anything down on paper.” I looked at him and said “yes.” That is true. I don’t trust to write down anything because it immortalizes it. And people can intrude on your privacy. My privacy is one of the few things that I can have control over. So, of course, the one fucking time I write something down, actually put pen to paper, my privacy is violated. I was so angry. So, if anyone ever asks why I anonymously blog? That’s why.

So back to what I wrote that night…Reading it now, it does sound very messed up. A friend asked me how I would actually throw up and do it so often without anyone knowing it. The answer to that is simple. I am by nature a perfectionist. I perfected the art of throwing up. I perfected the art of throwing up in secret. I perfected the art of throwing up silently. And if it wasn’t going to be silent, having other sounds around to drown out the sound of gagging. If I was having a bad day and I knew I’d want to throw up later, I would eat foods that came up easily. It all sounds so sick, but as with the book passage, I felt I was in control. I couldn’t be further from the truth.

2006-07-07T07:33:00.000-07:00

RECONNECTING

Last night, I decided to get back on to My Space and search for people. I haven’t been on My Space for awhile, but I was bored, my husband was playing some video game and hogging the TV. So I decided to look up my old schools again to see if other people had signed up. I was astonished at how many more people were on from my high school. I was overjoyed to see two people that I had lost touch with after I got married and moved away.

One was one of my best girlfriends from high school named Steph. The other was a guy friend I had known since 6th grade named Andy. I sent both of them friend requests and was overjoyed to get a request to Instant Message from Andy. I spent the next hour catching up with him. It was awesome.

The best part was getting transported back to a time in my life when I was really, truly happy. Before I began cutting myself and throwing up. Before I quit fully being myself. Andy and I were part of a larger “artsy” crowd that hung out most every weekend in various group combinations. Without sounding like too much of a nerd, I will say that the choir and orchestra rooms were right by each other and the drama rooms were just down the hall. I was entrenched into all things music and art related so we all hung out a lot. We all had a lot in common. Much of my Sr. year was spent hanging out at coffee shops listening to local live bands and discussing life as we knew it back then. Some nights, we would all go to the local retro ballroom and dance. Wednesday night was ballroom, Thursday night was swing, Friday night was latin and Saturday night was club. By the end of the year, I was quite the swing dancer. Oh I do miss that. Happy, happy times.

I saw that Steph replied back to me on My Space but I am now at work and blocked from that site. Smart on our company’s part. We’d all be wasting our time with My Space instead of working. I can’t wait to talk to her. Sometimes all of this technology is a good thing…

2006-07-06T14:21:00.000-07:00

EDNOS
(Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified)

I have so much to say
But no voice to be heard
So all of my thoughts
Lie just under the surface
Bubbling and stewing
Just waiting for the opportunity
When I find myself
And I can finally scream out loud

Technically, I cannot be categorized as someone with true bulimia so my disorder falls into the EDNOS limbo. As stated in my earlier blog, I was in denial over having an eating disorder mostly because I do not gorge myself on snack foods or sweets. I do not sneak or hide food to pig out on later. I actually eat normal foods. However, I eat higher quantities than needed. If I were to not purge and continue to eat the way I do, I probably would have gained more weight. I guess you could call that a "binge." There have been times I have purposefully eaten more than was comfortable because I knew I could throw it up later.

Purging disorder
Not yet a formal diagnosis, but seems to be separate from bulimia nervosa. At present, falls into the category of "Eating disorder not otherwise specified: EDNOS."
The person purges (vomits, abuses laxatives, diuretics, emetics, etc.) but does not binge eat.
Person maintains normal or near normal weight.
Researchers suspect that purging disorder may be more common than anorexia nervosa and bulimia combined.

I know I should go see at doctor. I have now asked my therapist for the names of recommended doctors that won't look at you like a freak when you talk about having an eating disorder. That's all I need right now is to feel more ill at ease with myself than I already do. I am starting to feel some physical effects. My acid reflux is out of control. I have had to stop eating on several occasions because of the pain.

Additionally, maybe a more formal diagnosis would help the people I have reached out to (i.e. family) to take me more seriously. My husband wants to flat out ignore everything. My mom keeps trying to relate the problem to just depression. I got the whole "this is how I dealt with depression" and "you just have to push through it. The grass isn't greener on the other side" speech. No Mom. Not the same thing at all. The way I cope isn't simply feeling sad. I THROW UP! I've thrown up 5 times in one day before. I've done this for going on 6 years! I purposefully eat foods that feel good to throw up. That is not normal. A happy pill and a few therapy sessions are not going to make it go away. I know people mean well, but sometimes their responses are just wrong! How bad does it have to get before people pay attention???

2006-07-06T12:45:00.000-07:00

More Thoughts

"Then you should say what you mean," the March Hare went on.
"I do," Alice hastily replied; "at least - at least I mean what I say -- that's the same thing, you know."
"Not the same thing a bit!" said the Hatter. "Why, you might just as well say that, 'I see what I eat' is the same as 'I eat what I see'!"

- Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

I was in denial over what I was doing to myself for a long time. I would argue that maybe I still am in denial. When people hear of eating disorders, two images come to mind: 1) Women that appear to have stepped out of a post-WWII concentration camp and 2) Women running to the bathroom leaving behind a trail of chip bags, candy, cookies and other various junk foods. I do not fit into either picture.

I love food and always have loved food. I guess you could call it a love-hate relationship. On my mom’s side of the family, we talk about food a lot. My grandma would write letters about company coming over and lengthy descriptions of what meal she prepared and how it tasted, etc… I remember when I was about 19 years old, my then boyfriend, now husband commented that he had never been around a group of people (my family) that could spend hours discussing food.

While I have never been “fat”, I always remember being labeled a “healthy eater.” I was somewhat famous in my family for being able to pack away a 12 oz steak with no problem at the age of 10. Most of my high school was spent slightly overweight for my height. I still had my “baby fat.” Towards the middle of my Jr. Year, I started losing weight. I ate healthy, I worked out constantly and I started to look good. I honestly relished the attention I received as I dropped from a size 8 to a size 0. For as much as I loved bread and pasta, when my family got on board with the Atkins Diet Craze, carbs became a mortal enemy and soon my diet consisted of lots of eggs, cheese, meat, salad, and other various no carb vegetables. Desserts became sugar substitute puddings and custards. But I looked great.

I went off to college that year determined not to pack on the “Freshman 10.” Although to be honest, 10 lbs would have looked good. I was at 105 lbs entering college and my best weight is around 118-125 lbs. The trauma that happened my freshman year became a recipe for my struggle with food that haunts me even now. Food became a sanctuary, a way of coping. But then dealing with the amount of food I was eating became one more thing for me to feel depressed and guilty over.

It never occurred to me to throw up my food at first. No. What came to mind was a different kind of self-injurious action. One night after a blow up with my boyfriend, I got so upset that I went back to my empty dorm room and proceeded to cut myself with a kitchen knife over 50 times on both forearms. You would think after maybe cut 1, 2 or 10 that I might have stopped due to pain, blood, or just the sheer realization of what I was doing to myself, but I didn’t. I didn’t feel a damn thing. It took a long time for feeling to set in. It was like I was some other person; detached and completely separated from my body. There was a feeling like I was hovering over myself watching what was happening and not connecting at all with the pain. In fact, I remember at one point starting to pay attention to the design of the cuts.

I’ve asked myself over and over again what possessed me to do that to myself. I am at the door trying to unlock that secret. Generic answers of feelings of unworthiness, self-loathing, etc… do not quite encompass what was in my head. You know what? I’m going to save the rest of this for a different day. The story is too long and arduous to continue to write at this point…

2006-06-28T13:52:00.000-07:00

MYERS-BRIGG ENTP

I am always interested to see what people write about my Myers-Brigg Personality Type. Keep in mind, I am actually split down the middle between an ENTP and an ENFP. I decided to highlight the ENTP.

ENTPs usually respond well to logic and reason, as well as people who are clear and precise. As with other types, they prefer people who are expert or competent in their field, so it's best if you know what you're talking about. ENTPs are likely to challenge your assumptions and engage in what can be quite a vigorous debate. They will often spend time analyzing your comments and integrating them into their existing knowledge. Any plan will likely come up for some serious critiquing if an ENTP is given the chance to review it. You can expect many questions from an ENTP as he or she tries to understand the issue at hand. Many enjoy working on complex problems and developing novel solutions. Most ENTPs respond best when given a lot of freedom to do their work.

Things to avoid when communicating with ENTPs include giving them specific details or directions on how to do a job. Likewise, they are unlikely to give such information to people who work for them. Avoid focusing on personal or emotional issues, particularly in the workplace. If you are looking for appreciation and validation from an ENTP, you might be waiting for a long time. Most ENTPs dislike discussing routine or mundane matters. There's no need to state the obvious to them. You'll want to avoid taking personally the criticism, questions, and challenges you're sure to receive from an ENTP. Avoid any plan or project that cannot be explained or justified with logic or reason.

2006-06-28T06:42:00.000-07:00

FIRST BLOG

“Well, it’s no use your talking about waking him,” said Tweedledum, “when you’re only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you’re not real,”
“I am real!” said Alice, and began to cry.
“You won’t make yourself a bit realer by crying,” Tweedledee remarked; “there’s nothing to cry about.”
“If I wasn’t real,” Alice said – half laughing through her tears, it all seemed so ridiculous—“I shouldn’t be able to cry.”
“I hope you don’t think those are real tears?” Tweedledee interrupted in a tone of great contempt.

- Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

"I am real. I insist that I am real. My feelings are real and valid." I say this to myself as some sort of bizarre mantra, but I don't believe it. I feel strangely detached. To those who think you know me, I can almost guarantee that you do not know me as well as you think you do. The fact that I have been keeping one gigantic secret from you for seven years is a testament to that fact. And sadly, at how well I act and lie. I lie so well that I can even convince my own mind of my lies.
I broke down at the beginning of February and told my dirty little secret. The secret that I have convinced myself wasn't a problem. The fact of the matter is, when you go to the bathroom to eradicate your body of every trace of food by means of purging, there is a problem. A BIG problem.
I'm sure even now as people read this, many are thinking, "Ewwww...! How can someone do that to themselves?" I wish I could answer that question. Maybe the answer to that question holds the key to my recovery. How can I eat something and then feel some sick satisfaction as I watch it come out of my mouth and into the toilet? How can I feel relief and balanced as I cough and sputter afterwards with my face feeling as though tiny little pin points are all over my now flushed cheeks. Sometimes I cry wanting so badly to throw something at the mirror when I have to face myself as I'm washing my face of all traces of my addiction. Goddamn those stupid bathroom mirrors that are right there by the sink. I hate facing myself.
What's real is that every single time I eat, my mind and soul are waging a war inside my body.