Monday, May 23, 2011
On loving yourself........
"If I wait until I become perfect before I love myself, I will waste my whole life. I am already perfect right here and right now. I am perfect exactly as I am"- Louise Hay
Friday, May 20, 2011
Who Am I Without Ed?
"Who am I without Ed? We have been together for so long that I am afraid of what my life might look like without him. What if my life is actually worse without him? Sure, things are not exactly great with him. Okay, I admit that things are horribly miserable with Ed, but at least I'm thin. I would definitely rather be thin and miserable than fat and miserable. What if being recovered just means that I'm going to gain weight and be fat and miserable?" from 'Goodbye Ed, hello Me' by Jenni Schaefer.
Okay. So now you have it. The ugly truth. I have an (E)ating (Disorder). I am an anorexic. Yes. You heard me write. I have finally said it out loud. I am a restricting anorexic who, at age 41, has just discovered that for more than half my life (my first memory of hating my body came when I was a junior in high school- 1987). That means I have been suffering from my eating disorder for 24 years of my life! Sure. It didn't start out so bad. I hated my atletic body. I wanted collar bones that stuck out like my girl friends. I wanted sinuey arms. I didn't want my muscular legs. I hated my arms. I wanted to look like them. Not me.
At first my disgust with my body just kind of hung out in the background- like a lion waiting to pounce on it's pray- rip it to pieces; utterly destroy it; devour it until there was nothing left. So Ed festered ever so quietly inside my head- waiting for the perfect moment to strike. So there I was, a recent graduate from college. The year was 1993 and something just changed. No longer was Ed hanging out quietly in the depths of my mind. He was quickly taking over my mind- my every thought. He was devouring Lisa like the lion devoured his prey. I began restricting my food. I blamed it on stress; anxiety; depression over a terribly emotionally abusive relationship. It wasn't something I was INTENTIONALLY doing. Why would I do that to myself? I was smarter than that. Purposely restricting my food intake was what vain, shallow girls did. I was not vain. I was not shallow. Why would I choose to do that? Well, little did I know, I had no idea that I was doing that to myself. I was clueless. Ed had taken over. He was nice and comfy in my mind. He had settled in and was not going anywhere. His voice was so loud. So clear. He told me what to do and I did it- or didn't do it if you want me to be honest. I simply began to stop eating. Rather quickly my weight began to drop. My best friend looked at my new body in horror. "What is wrong with you? What is going on? Your legs are like sticks. What is going on?" She pleaded with me to tell her what had happened to me. What had caused me to lose all that weight? What was going on? "Nothing" I reassured her. Ed had hold of me like I was some puppet he was controlling. He told me what to say- how to rationalize my new body- and I was able to get away with it. People believed me. they bought into it. I bought into it. I simply offered up my excuses and they actually sounded valid. I was safe- for now. Nobody was going to challenge me. I made sense. After all, they trusted and believed in me. What I said COULD be true, right? Of course. Lisa has never had an issue with her body. She is just recovering from a broken heart. She'll be okay. But I wasn't. I would continue to get sicker and sicker. My eating was now disordered and as I have recently learned, once your eating becomes disordered, you will never be able to eat like a 'normal' person again. Ed has taken hold and he is going to keep you his hostage until you either die from a heart attack one day, take your own life because the pain is just too much or, if you are lucky, I mean REALLY lucky, until the day you tell Ed your relationship is over- you are breaking up with him and you choose to go get help.
That is where I am at. I have thought about the second option- but I have three of the most perfect, beautiful babies in the world. I don't want to be without them and besides, I am too much of a coward to actually go through with that. Of course, I may not even be given that choice. I could drop dead tomorrow from a heart attack and it would all be over. The reality of this fact is terrifying beyond belief. I feel like this walking time bomb. At any moment I could go off. My body can choose to make the choice for me. It could be over like that. No energy needed on my end. Just gone- like a light bulb that has been burned out. However, I like to think that I have come to the point where I am choosing to tell Ed to go to hell. That I am not going to listen to him anymore. That I am going to take my life back and there is nothing he is going to be able to say about it. Okay. I said I would LIKE to think that. I am fighting with every bit of strength I have left in this war torn body to be able to tell Ed to fuck off for once and for all and never look back. But I am quickly learning it is not that easy. Ed isn't going to let me go without a fight. And I know I am in for one hell of a fight. But as God is my witness, for today, for this moment, for those three beautiful angels, I am going to defeat that bastard. I am through being his slave. I am through feeling like a piece of shit that doesn't deserve anyone's love because I am so unworthy and worhless that nobody else could possibly love me like ed does. Well i am saying bullshit to that. Screw you Ed! I am not going to allow you to control my every thought and move anymore. i am not going to allow you to keep me feeling depressed and empty, and unlovable, and undeserving of real happiness. I am ending this now. Today. I am breaking up with you Ed. Consider this relationship over for good. I am taking my life back and there is NOTHING you can do to stop me. Go crawl back to hell where you belong. I am going back to the land of the living and you have nothing to say about it anymore.
Okay. So now you have it. The ugly truth. I have an (E)ating (Disorder). I am an anorexic. Yes. You heard me write. I have finally said it out loud. I am a restricting anorexic who, at age 41, has just discovered that for more than half my life (my first memory of hating my body came when I was a junior in high school- 1987). That means I have been suffering from my eating disorder for 24 years of my life! Sure. It didn't start out so bad. I hated my atletic body. I wanted collar bones that stuck out like my girl friends. I wanted sinuey arms. I didn't want my muscular legs. I hated my arms. I wanted to look like them. Not me.
At first my disgust with my body just kind of hung out in the background- like a lion waiting to pounce on it's pray- rip it to pieces; utterly destroy it; devour it until there was nothing left. So Ed festered ever so quietly inside my head- waiting for the perfect moment to strike. So there I was, a recent graduate from college. The year was 1993 and something just changed. No longer was Ed hanging out quietly in the depths of my mind. He was quickly taking over my mind- my every thought. He was devouring Lisa like the lion devoured his prey. I began restricting my food. I blamed it on stress; anxiety; depression over a terribly emotionally abusive relationship. It wasn't something I was INTENTIONALLY doing. Why would I do that to myself? I was smarter than that. Purposely restricting my food intake was what vain, shallow girls did. I was not vain. I was not shallow. Why would I choose to do that? Well, little did I know, I had no idea that I was doing that to myself. I was clueless. Ed had taken over. He was nice and comfy in my mind. He had settled in and was not going anywhere. His voice was so loud. So clear. He told me what to do and I did it- or didn't do it if you want me to be honest. I simply began to stop eating. Rather quickly my weight began to drop. My best friend looked at my new body in horror. "What is wrong with you? What is going on? Your legs are like sticks. What is going on?" She pleaded with me to tell her what had happened to me. What had caused me to lose all that weight? What was going on? "Nothing" I reassured her. Ed had hold of me like I was some puppet he was controlling. He told me what to say- how to rationalize my new body- and I was able to get away with it. People believed me. they bought into it. I bought into it. I simply offered up my excuses and they actually sounded valid. I was safe- for now. Nobody was going to challenge me. I made sense. After all, they trusted and believed in me. What I said COULD be true, right? Of course. Lisa has never had an issue with her body. She is just recovering from a broken heart. She'll be okay. But I wasn't. I would continue to get sicker and sicker. My eating was now disordered and as I have recently learned, once your eating becomes disordered, you will never be able to eat like a 'normal' person again. Ed has taken hold and he is going to keep you his hostage until you either die from a heart attack one day, take your own life because the pain is just too much or, if you are lucky, I mean REALLY lucky, until the day you tell Ed your relationship is over- you are breaking up with him and you choose to go get help.
That is where I am at. I have thought about the second option- but I have three of the most perfect, beautiful babies in the world. I don't want to be without them and besides, I am too much of a coward to actually go through with that. Of course, I may not even be given that choice. I could drop dead tomorrow from a heart attack and it would all be over. The reality of this fact is terrifying beyond belief. I feel like this walking time bomb. At any moment I could go off. My body can choose to make the choice for me. It could be over like that. No energy needed on my end. Just gone- like a light bulb that has been burned out. However, I like to think that I have come to the point where I am choosing to tell Ed to go to hell. That I am not going to listen to him anymore. That I am going to take my life back and there is nothing he is going to be able to say about it. Okay. I said I would LIKE to think that. I am fighting with every bit of strength I have left in this war torn body to be able to tell Ed to fuck off for once and for all and never look back. But I am quickly learning it is not that easy. Ed isn't going to let me go without a fight. And I know I am in for one hell of a fight. But as God is my witness, for today, for this moment, for those three beautiful angels, I am going to defeat that bastard. I am through being his slave. I am through feeling like a piece of shit that doesn't deserve anyone's love because I am so unworthy and worhless that nobody else could possibly love me like ed does. Well i am saying bullshit to that. Screw you Ed! I am not going to allow you to control my every thought and move anymore. i am not going to allow you to keep me feeling depressed and empty, and unlovable, and undeserving of real happiness. I am ending this now. Today. I am breaking up with you Ed. Consider this relationship over for good. I am taking my life back and there is NOTHING you can do to stop me. Go crawl back to hell where you belong. I am going back to the land of the living and you have nothing to say about it anymore.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
Conquer yourself...
"It is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles. Then the victory is yours. It cannot be taken from you, not by angels or by demons, heaven or hell."
— Siddhārtha Gautama
— Siddhārtha Gautama
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
On Healing...
"The first step in my healing was giving me permission to do so. I gave myself permission to stop viewing myself as a victim. I gave myself permission to forgive myself and others. I gave myself permission to stop living from ego. I gave myself permission to connect with and live from Spirit. I am the one who healed me by giving myself permission to do so."
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