Aaand..... breathe.....

Yesterday was a rough day. I walked half the way to work, got a coffee, wrote my check in and realized I was actually feeling shit.

Writing is a tool that helps in my recovery, so I am writing these morning check ins, where I record what I am thankful for and also what I am feeling and thinking about for the day ahead.

So, yesterday, I wrote this:
Yesterday, I was thankful for having recovered to such an extent that I can work from home without having to purge; that my body is able to swim and move; that our neighbour is a caring person; that whenever I go to meetings I seem to feel better afterwards; that I made progress on a project at work; that I have Friday off from work and that the British Boy has planned a surprise.

Today, it's grey outside and I feel numb. My hip pain is getting worse again and I am annoyed that the physio still hasn't written the referral letter. I'm actually scared that the condition I have might result on me not being able to ever run again. Running is something I really enjoy and that is part if how I define myself. Having written that down now, I am reminded of that transformation piece and I know that maybe the running trapeze isn't my place anymore. My fear stems from my inability to control an outcome, and my general uneasiness with the unknown.

My hearts desire is to let go trying to control the outcome. I would like to do what is kind rather than what I believe I have to do to not get fat.

I am a commitment to balance and patience and kindness.

When I got home last night, I made myself a big steaming bowl of beef and vegetable soup. It was delicious. Haha, the picture, however, turned out like from an 80's cookbook. Class.

Soup or no soup, I didn't sleep very well or long and woke up still feeling blah.
Today's check in:

Yesterday, I was thankful for being able to articulate and being aware of my dissatisfaction, my frustration and my fear. I am continually grateful for my OA fellows, who all provide a different perspective, share their own fears and recovery tools. I really loved being able to immerse myself in work, using it as a distraction, although I want to deal with these emotions rather than suppress them. I also loved connecting with a friend.

Today, I woke up, feeling blah again. Hah, maybe it's the not dealing with stuff that makes it stay.
I am feeling sorry for myself, that my hip is still hurting, the pain radiating to my lower back as a constant dull ache. I can feel my tense shoulders and stiff neck and I can feel myself hunch up. The feeling I ascribe to it is anger and fear. Anger at myself, the world, the pain, at my refusal to accept that things are as they are. Fear that I might not get better, might not ever fall pregnant, that I might gain weight, that I might fail. I think I'm holding on to this all because it's the known rather than the scary unknown.  Either way, struggling so hard is not congruent with being kind to myself.

My hearts desire is to accept and stop fighting so hard. I am a commitment to acceptance and balance.

I got off two tube stops earlier and walked to work, so I could move and have a call with a fellow, passing Buckingham Palace, which also looked drab and grey.

I had breakfast, which cheered me up - ooh, hang on, food makes me feel better? No shit... But it was a great concoction of overnight oats, goats yoghurt, grapefruit, apple, nuts and seeds and a dash of cinnamon and coconut.

After breakfast, one of my dearest and closest life-coach-mentor-friends wrote back the below in response to my check in:

Another way to think about this is its a process....you HAVE to BE IN this space/part to get to the next step. Perhaps it's just time to acknowledge it and that it is uncomfortable vs desiring it to not be. Embrace that it is and that at some point you will move on...and that point will be simply at the right time and not sooner. There are things for you to learn and experience now that help you for the future :)

I don't feel so horrendous anymore - talking and writing about things definitely helps and I'm looking forward to seeing my therapist tonight. The British Boy is coming along, which makes me happy and scared at the same time.

 

Floating in water

I love swimming. I discovered it at the beginning of the year when I couldn't run because of a (still occurring)hip pain, that started after I did a half marathon in early November 2012.

Swimming is a brilliant way to exercise -  gentle on the joints and, for me, great to really tune everything else out. This morning, though, I was grossed out by floating hair, used bandages and pieces of skin in the local pool I go to. I am sure it was probably like this every time, but this morning I was really distracted by it. Just the thought makes me shudder. I even swallowed some of the vile water, as I lost concentration due to an offending clump of hair ambling into my path. Yuck!!!

Nonetheless, I moved for 45 minutes and feel all the better for it. I still wonder how often they fish out the bits in the pool though. Mmh.

Breakfast was an un-pictured bowl of oats, apple, pomegranate, goats yoghurt and peanut butter cinnamon drizzle.

Lunch was this very satisfying concoction of roasted vegetables (onions, mushroom, carrot, parsnip, peppers, sugar snap peas), leftover tikka chicken, and blanched kale.

I normally try to get out at lunch time too, especially when working from home, so I don't get cabin fever and to have an excuse to get the most amazing coffee from Tina, we salute you. I love this place. It's a 10 minute walk from my flat to this quirky place, has a really laid back atmosphere and makes the best coffee in a mile radius (that's a huge statement for a city like London, where there is a coffee shop at almost each corner).

Although I am trying to close out today's post on a positive note, I would be lying if I pretended everything is ok. I am a hypochondriac drama queen. And as someone in the Friday OA meeting said: "Don't EVER google any symptoms. For me, it always ends up pointing towards cancer." I googled it.

My check in this morning:

I'm worried about whether my recent skin problems are a sign of some bigger underlying disease. I know I have the tendency to be overly dramatic and this bears the hallmarks of black or white thinking - immediately jumping to the worst possible scenario. To soothe my mind, I'll book an appointment with the doctor and let go of worrying about it. There's not much more I can do at the moment. I am a commitment to balance."

Erm, I haven't completely let go of it yet and am still worried. Doc's appointment is booked for Friday. :)

Sun(less)day

Weather-wise, it was a grey Sunday today. Mood-wise, it was mix of sunshine and clouds with a dash of storminess.

I woke up this morning, feeling so much better than yesterday. After Friday night containing a lot of food and a few too many glasses of bubbly, I had a bad hangover that lasted all Saturday.

Thanks to my sponsor and my fellows, I stopped being a friggin' victim and got my sorry butt ouf of bed. I stuck to my plan to see a theatre play a friend of ours is directing, which was extremely moving - ended up crying openly at the end. Saturday finished on the couch under a blanket with Indian take out and knitting. I am such a high flyer - that is definitely all the excitement I can take.

Today, after an amazing breakfast of oat pancake topped with apple, pomegranate, peanut butter cinnamon drizzle and coconut, I ventured out into the cold to run to the gym and back and enjoy a Pilates class.

I feel so much better when I stay active!

Another great booster of inner contentment is reading passages that speak to me. Today, it certainly were these words from Mark Nepo's "The Book of Awaking":

"What we need is always harshly and beautifully right before us, disguised in the wrapping of our nearest urgency. We just refuse to accept this because it feels so difficult to face."

 

True dat.

Perspective helps...

... so does the simple fact that it's Friday.

I woke up this morning feeling so much better, after sitting with, digesting and talking about yesterday's painful experience, the slippery slope behaviour in eating and my high expectations of myself with friends, the British Boy and my fellows. I feel so much better.

Working from home today, I was ok with the food so far and managed to even get a 4-mile run in at lunch time. It is cold in London. Freezing. After a hot shower, I felt like a salad for lunch.

 

This was one big plate of yumminess - salad, red peppers, tomato, red onion, zucchini, carrot, pomegranate, fennel, fried egg and whole-wheat pita bread all doused in honey, mustard and olive oil vinaigrette and sriracha sauce.

My afternoon snack between meetings was a homemade and actually vegan spaghetti squash muffin and dark chocolate. It was delicious paired with a pear tea.

I am getting ready to head out to a fellowship meeting first and then moving on to a dinner party at our friends' house.

I am a commitment to balance.

Kopfkino aka head cinema

The German language is beautiful. It has a word for my condition, I mean aside from crazy, insane, addicted, insecure - there's a word for when your head just doesn't stop. It's called 'Kopfkino', or head cinema. To me, it's when I have my internal voice, when I'm stuck on the blame train, talking to myself negatively or going over and over things, overanalysing, black and white thinking.

I am currently in my own head, trying to make sense of the story that unfolded yesterday.

I had process group last night and upon coming home, had a very upsetting conversation with the British Boy about how I feel about his scepticism around therapy. A while back, I had asked him if he would accompany me to my therapist. He reluctantly said: "Yes, if it helps you." Last night, we talked about the upcoming session next week, the first one where he would join me. I don't even remember what it was he said, I only remember I felt attacked and a need to defend myself. Simultaneously, I was trying to get him to see my way. I felt ridiculed and belittled when he used the word "psychobabble" and became overwhelmed when he showed signs of agitation and annoyance.

The truth is, I had asked him to come to therapy with me next week, so the therapist can tell him he needs therapy too. I think,  I want him there for completely the wrong reasons. I wanted him to come so someone can look at him and tell him he needs it too. Which is me just trying to distract from myself, possibly. I realize that I want to deflect from me.

I partly feel that a moderated environment might help me not feel so overwhelmed when he goes all logical statements and English dictionary on me. I asked him this AM to not come, as I need to go focus on myself and don't feel it will be of any help if he accompanies me with that much reluctance. In hindsight, I can also see myself wanting to retaliate. If he doesn't want to be there, then fine, I don't want him there either.

He got really upset and I wanted to comfort him, but after speaking about the drama triangle at aftercare yesterday, I felt like I had been persecuting him for not wanting to come with joy and openness, which turned him into a victim and led to me wanting to rescue him. Am I in a drama triangle with the British Boy? Would that mean this kind of situation will arise again and again? That thought scares me. I'm sad, and also think I might be overanalysing and overdramatizing things.

Humble? My ass!

Ah, I woke up this AM feeling utterly tired and after a bad dream, I did some soul searching. I write a grateful list each morning for the day before along with anything that’s on my mind and my reminder to what I want to be or work on today - it’s my check in with myself. Today, I want to post my check in, so I can let go:

 

Yesterday, I was grateful for finishing my morning run, for being able to work from home, for the sunshine, for discovering that i apply my sympathy with much force at times, distributing unwanted advice and projecting my feelings unto others and I am thankful for the Brit's love and patience.

 

Today, i woke up after a disturbing dream, where i distinctly felt like i had to prove myself, that i needed to show that i was more than. It left me tired and unsettled. I would like to apologize to my mom for comments i made yesterday and to a friend for arrogantly thinking i had all the answers. I was on a power trip, using their trust in me to make me feel better by establishing/pointing out how much further in my insights, acceptance, recovery i was than them. I feel shame around that, yet know it did not come from a place of malice, but because i thought i was helpful and wanted to share what was working for me.

 

My hearts desire is for my mom and friend to accept me and still love me despite my flaws. I also want to let go of my negative self talk around the amount of food i ate yesterday. I have very unkind thoughts in my head towards me, which make me angry and sad.

 

I am a commitment to balance, patience and kindness.

My food:

• I had a good breakfast of oats, cottage cheese, fruit and nuts.
• Lunch was a salad with tuna and a whole-wheat pita.
• My dinner was Thai Larb Gai salad, but I ate A LOT of it. I also had a Solero and a hot chocolate for dessert. Along with a couple of pieces of dark chocolate. Erm, dark chocolate rocks.

Thai Larb Gai Salad inspired by this blog here

Monday blues revisited

So, this blog thing actually saved a draft of what I wrote yesterday when I was in a dark spot. I think I'll publish it, it's an insight into my fucked up thinking. Yesterday, around lunchtime: "Gosh, I want to eat and not stop. I am angry at myself and fed up. I have eaten more than I intended, snacked mindlessly and then some more on purpose with that 'all or nothing' mind-set - thinking 'now I've blown it, so might as well go all out'.

What frustrates me even more, aside from having lost control, is that I have the tools to get better and recover and then don't use them. Or I expect things to happen quickly and to see results immediately and to feel all happy all the time. Yet, as several smart ladies and gents mentioned, it's a progress, it's something that I should try and NOT control, so even saying that I lost control over my eating means that I was under the illusion of being in control of it."

Even though I actually ended up eating 2 or 3 more snacks than intended, overall, I was still within what a normal person might eat. It's very hard for me to gauge normal portion sizes.

Today is a new day and I am reading a book by Brene Brown which I find quite affirming, and yes, I slightly cringe at the hippy-ishness and self-help book lingo, but it is helping me to not punish myself. Last night, I read this sentence and it just resonates with me, because at the moment I am anxious about a lot of things. "No matter what gets done and how much is left undone, I am enough."

Half-hearted = Half-assed

I had started writing this post earlier today, whilst at work, half-heartedly listening to a meeting, half-heartedly trying to pour my heart out, about how angry I was at myself and how frustrating my progress or lack thereof is to me. I'm glad I didn't save or publish it.

Well, in the evening, I went to a 12 step programme meeting, read a few meaningful pages in a smart book and spoke to some pretty intelligent and understanding people. I arrived at the conclusion that it just won't do. Half-heartedness. It just doesn't cut it. Neither does impatience and berating myself. More about that later.

First, I need to get this half-heartedness business into my head. Whenever I try to spin too many plates, work on too many things at the same time, try to please people whilst desperately trying to be as perfect as I feel I ought to be, that's when shit happens; that's when drivel comes out of my mouth; when my inner twat gets louder and when I start being mean to myself and quite frankly do a crappy job. Not focussing fully on the task at hand means I don't give it my all and that oftentimes results in sloppiness or unclear thoughts.

That goes hand in hand with my impatience and with the feeling of 'woe is me' and how much I manoeuvre myself into a position of the victim, where I ask myself why I'm not further along in my recovery, why I am still feeling obsession and compulsion around food. And all of this is happening to me, as I am clearly already doing sooo much to get better.

However, that's not strictly true. I realized that during talking to my great support network. It made me notice that I do things half-heartedly. The key, I think, lies in doing things fully. Committing fully to recovery, to balance, to living, to patience, to kindness.

Unstoppable

Hah, all high and mighty yesterday and I feel it's now catching up with me. I was working from home, feeling all grand about my ability to not snack and then started thinking about working from home today too. After talking to the British Boy, I was unsure whether it would be a good idea or not. He did not think so. I thought so. I then started changing my mind. Drives me nuts how easily I am influenced by other. Why can I not stand my ground?!? Well, it's because me standing my ground in the past meant I puked a lot. But still, I really don't like not being sure of myself.

Anyway, I went to work and have been surrounded by snacks - savoury ones, sweet ones, chocolaty ones, and for some reason or another, I have been snacking non-stop today. I told the Brit that I would stick to two, committing myself to that action, and then I ended up having one here, one there, each time I pass the bloody friggin desk with all that stuff on it.

Bottom line: I ate a lot more than what I'm comfortable with. Not binge-sized snacks, but a constant stream of stuff that puts me above my calorie limit (yes, I count calories and yes, I want to be able to feel ok to stop at one point, but am too scared at the moment). I have a dinner party to attend tonight with some friends who are all aware of my eating disorder, but I actually would feel best if I didn't eat at all.

Erm, that's not a good idea. It's not at all healthy to restrict on the anorexic side and I need to eat to nourish my body. I have eaten more than I wanted to and that's fine. It will not result in me turning into the Michelin man, nor will it do any good if I restrict. I am a commitment to balance and damnit, balance I shall.

Ah, feeling better having written this already.

I want to be my Valentines!

After a 45 minute swim this morning, I am working from home, which is incredible in itself. I never used to be able to be alone and not immediately view it as an opportunity to stuff my face and inevitably throw it up.

Whenever I saw a free couple of hours, I would start planning my binge. Buy, prepare and eat until I could barely move. Then, as if there were no other option, I would make myself sick. That would happen, before, after, in between meetings, heck, during meetings, and oftentimes also before my roommate or boyfriend (now husband) would come home. Looking back at my bulimia, I would mostly act out when I was alone. No surprise here, isolation is one of the main traits of addiction and my shame around my behaviour meant I wanted to be alone.

I have calculated it once - 12 years of bulimia, throwing up at least once every day, some days up to 6x, in the past few years every other day. I reckon, I must have puked well over 4000 times in my life! Seriously, I have no idea how I functioned.

Back to today, I am working from home, I have a food plan in my head and am actually looking forward to my lunch and dinner. I would be kidding myself and would be lying if I said that food isn't still a huge part of my daily thinking and is an obsession. I am working on letting that go, surrendering to finding my balance. It's one day at a time.

To the title of the actual post - It's Valentine's Day and I'm a V-Day grump. It's not that I don't believe in love or in the expression of love, I just disagree with setting a specific day to do so. I'd much rather receive heartfelt "I love you's" throughout the year. Nonetheless, coincidentally we are having dinner and theatre tickets for tonight. Hah, I will so very much enjoy it.

But the best part of today: I love myself enough to be kind and not stuff myself and not throw up and to enjoy my life. Enjoy the small things - going for a walk at lunch time to get one of the best coffees in London, feeling the sun on my face and feeling warm and at peace and whole. Unconditional love for myself- that's my goal.

Today, I'm a commitment to balance

Today, I have not thrown up for 99 days. Today, I am a Commitment To Balance. Today, I am open to not seeing my world black or white, all or nothing, good or bad, thin or fat, too much or not enough. Today, I am cringing slightly as I write that I am 'on a journey' to a healthier life, but it's actually true.

I am a recovering bulimic and have been puking for about 12 years, almost every day, oftentimes several times a day - in the quest to stay thin, to be perfect, to shut up the voice in my head that told me if I only achieved a certain shape, got toned, reached a certain weight, then I would be loveable and my life would be that much better. I call BULLSHIT on that.

Thanks, lady, for getting me to start this. I heart you, my dear girl.