Oh, Ani

How is that a little Kanye West and Cheetos can become the cure-all for an emotionally ravaging day? I submit that Cheetos are made in part with crack, as there is no other logical explanation for their deliciousness or addictive quality.

Group today was rough, and I think it had to do with the fact that I’m actually doing pretty well. It’s a strange guilt I feel to know that I’m moving past all of the mental angst I feel in regard to myself. Things aren’t wonderful by any stretch of the imagination, but I’m feeling sad for all of my friends in group who are where I was one year ago, or two years ago, or three years ago. The problem is that there is not a formulaic response to recovery; it’s sort of trial and error to find your groove and then when you lose your way, you go back to square one and look for your groove again. It broke my heart a little bit to hear about the struggles my friends are facing. It broke my heart to know that I can’t fix it for them. What I can do right now is keep on plugging away at this. Maybe at some point I can be an inspiration to my friends at group.

I wish I had an internal switch that prevented me from being nauseated by desperate women. I wish I wasn’t affected so greatly by the behavior of immature bottom-dwellers who lack any morsel of self preservation. Mostly I wish I could stop caring about those who do not have my best interest at heart. The fact is that we all have our own stuff; almost without exception everyone has experienced some type of pain or bitterness or unfortunate circumstance in his/her life. At some point, you chose not to expel your own existential crises onto others. At some point, you chose to just live for yourself whether or not anyone is watching. At some point, you make peace with the universe and eventually you make peace with yourself.

i gotta beeline double time

leave my home sweet home for your honeycomb

then i show up steady, ready and proud

and i find I've forgotten how to talk out loud

isn't it just like you to bring me to my knees

in my brand new stockings

while the cat is out with my tongue

isn't it just like you to bring me to my knees

in my brand new stockings

love makes me feel so dumb

Last Time I Checked, I Was None of Them

I just returned from an unexpected visit to the motherland - this time for a funeral. My grandpa passed away at the lived-in age of 90. He lived through The Depression, a couple wars, marriage, kids, several relocations, and more importantly a lot of love. As sad as I was that grandpa is gone, the more relieved I am that he’s not suffering anymore. And he was ready; he told his pastor just days before he died that he was ready to see his wife and Jesus. I can’t help but believe he’s right, and that after such a long and productive and inspiring life, he gets to be reunited with the people he loved and dwell in the most perfect place.

Visits home usually leave me depleted and in a semi-permanent state of self-loathing. Or maybe I should say that I chose those feelings after my visits home. I’m choosing not to feel that way anymore. Being at home gave me a lot of time to reflect and think and just be. I did a lot of writing and went for long walks with myself and it was nice to just be alone without distraction for a few minutes at a time.

I’m starting to see that a conflicted life is a wasted life. I have this friend who is constant conflict; with herself, her friends, her coworkers, her life. And now this friend is in conflict with me. While I definitely don’t want to just rollover and let her project her issues on to me, I am not going to engage in her conflict. I hate that I have wasted so much time being upset over the person I am. More importantly, I’m resolving to be OK with the person I am. There just seems to be so much natural conflict – universal, spiritual, social – and I would rather make the choice to not be conflicted about the things are unnatural. So there.

Lose the costume
The days of dress-up are gone
Time to join in and put a different outfit on

It's an Infininte World and I Want You...

Ahhh, Duncan Sheik. How I adore thee.

Feeling marginally better today. Partially because I don’t know how anyone could be upset on such a beautiful day like today. Partially because I’m just tired of feeling like poo. And partially because I feel good in what I’m wearing.

I realize that recovery isn’t cut and dry. I realize that it’s a series of good days looped in with a series of bad days. I realize that I’m a work in progress and that weight loss may not necessarily be the next natural step for my body or my mind. That said, I’m not feeling comfortable at the weight I’m at and I think that contributed the most to my less-than-sunny disposition the past week. It’s not just a matter of comfort either – I want to feel healthier and more at ease in physical situations.

There are days when I can look at myself objectively and think that I’m beautiful. I want those days to not be so few and far between. More than that, I want to stop judging others based on how they look. How is that the thing I’m most sensitive and insecure about, is the very thing I’m guilty of myself? I think if I met God today, that’s the first question I’d ask him/ her. How is it that as human beings, we are such hypocrites? How is it that we can completely loathe and detest qualities that we ourselves possess? It just seems so cruel and unfair and completely tragic. But I digress.

One of my favorite pick-me-up songs is The Middle by Jimmy Eat World. I have it on repeat today.

Hey, you know they're all the same
You know you're doing better on your own, so don't buy in
You live right now, just be yourself
It doesn't matter if it's good enough for someone else

It just takes some time
Little girl you're in the middle of the ride
Everything will be just fine
Everything will be alright
It just takes some time
Little girl you're in the middle of the ride
Everything will be just fine
Everything will be alright

The Middle

Every time I start a sentence it sounds completely whiny and melodramatic and that's really not how I'm feeling right now. I'm exhausted. Completely and totally. And the kicker? I'm sleeping regularly. And for long periods of time. So maybe I'm emotionally exhausted. Maybe.

I've been kicking ass at work. My non-profit roots have reared their martyr-like head again and I'm helping out with some philanthropic initiatives at work. I'm also getting my team whipped into shape and helping out with some pretty large new clients. I feel confident and together and powerful. Then I go home.

Maybe it's the 90-day rule. I've gone nearly three months without purging, and with only a few binge-eating episodes during that span. I feel like I'm about to jump out of my skin. I can't sit, stand, or lay down. I eat, but I feel gross and helpless afterwards, regardless of the type or quantity of food I had. I hate that I'm feeling this way again because it's just so old and done and I'm so over it. But I'm not really over it because I keep reliving it. I want so badly to make it to three months. I feel like that might be what breaks me - I've never, in the last six years made it 90 days without purging. I want to know how that tastes and how it looks on me.

The other shitty thing that I'm freaked about is this weekend. My roommate and I were supposed to do some serious shopping for our apartment, but she's decided to go home this weekend. Which leaves me with, the exception of a few hours, a clear schedule. I feel trapped and it's only Tuesday.

My church started this new podcast series called "Traction." My pastor recommends that I listen to it and go for a walk. So tomorrow, I'm getting up early to find my Traction. Or maybe just a tread.

And the Clarity to See and Stop This Now...That is What I Have Earned

Call the wah-ambulance. I can.not.stop.crying.

But it’s good. I know it’s good because it means I’m feeling stuff and I’m not just stuffing my emotions inside and pretending I’m “fine” and “ok.” Not that I’m really doing that terrible, but my life situation isn’t ideal right now.

I think I may have lost a good friend this week – or maybe I just lost someone I thought was a good friend. I think I’m starting to figure out that maybe hanging out with someone solely because that person makes me laugh is not enough ground on which to build a friendship. But it doesn’t make it sting any less to find out that I’m expendable. It doesn’t make me want to trust and love and believe with abandon.

Tyler and Caroline have moved further away from me – it takes me about an hour to get to their new house. In a way I’m happy for them because they’ve wanted a house for so long, but I’m sad because it’s not as easy to see them during the week. Thusly adding more tears to the Sorrow River I’m creating.

It’s just that I’m so restless right now. I can’t move without worrying that I am slipping into obsessive behavior. We talked in group this week about the difference between leaps and baby steps. And I know it needs to be baby steps right now, but baby steps don’t get me very far very quickly. I’m not trying to whine, I just wish this would happen for me.

What I’m striving for is a greater connection between my rational self and my eating disorder self. I can sit here at work and know that I am a hard worker, a good leader and a strong contributor to my company. I’m an aunt, a daughter, a sister and a niece, and I know I play an important role in my family. I just wish these things mattered when I put my jeans on this morning. I wish they mattered when I’m surrounded by mirrors during hip-hop aerobics. I wish, I wish, I wish.

Speaking of hip-hop aerobics, I found out that my gym is offering the class again for October! Yay and hooray! So I’m headed back tonight to get my swerve on. Sort of. I also decided that I’m going to buy myself a new athletic-y swimsuit and start swimming one day a week for cardio. I used to swim all the time and I’m actually a pretty strong swimmer. I also like swimming, so I know it’s something I can do and not be bored.

Baby steps, here I come.