Plugging along

The sun is shining ever so brightly. My daughter is attending a funeral this morning, and last night when I got home I found out that my cousin died yesterday. Mixed feelings, to say the least. Life goes on, everything seems to be flowing — and these heartwrenching events are part of it.

In my own little world, things are coming along. As long as I am patient and remind myself that I don’t have to know and do everything all at once, work is going well. It is an adjustment — the second new job this year! But this one suits me well, so I plan to stay for a while.

Yesterday evening an old friend called. She had read about half of my book and said she was devastated. She didn’t really know what bulimia and anorexia are about — beyond the well-known physical symptoms/behavior. She was shocked that she knew me when I was still sick and didn’t know! Back then hardly anyone knew. She said it was affecting her dreams and put her in a difficult space.

All I could say was that it had to be written that way. It is truly taken from my old diaries and my goal was to portray the less romantic side of being skinny at all costs. The feelings, thoughts, crises and wasted opportunities and moments had to be portrayed. I want other bulimics and anorexics to find themselves, to see that they aren’t alone, to derive comfort from the fact that it can last so long but… it can end in a healthy way. There is a way out!

October marked the 22nd anniversary of recovery. Yet still to this day I find myself grateful. When I go to the grocery store and carry home a couple of heavy bags, I am happy to know it’s “honest” food. There is such joy in having the energy to live life — to pursue hobbies, go out, meet friends, stay home and be lazy, read, cook and eat a good meal. Recovery means freedom. Freedom to live to the full. It is an incredible gift.

Along with that freedom to live, comes the freedom to feel. And so this morning I feel a lot — happiness at the warm sunshine and the splendor of the bright leaves on the trees, relief at having a day off to just putter around and simply be, and sadness about my cousin. It can all happen at the same time.

Back to “normal”

After all the stress of moving, the emotional turmoil, and losing some weight, I’m back to normal. The past few weeks, I focussed on eating normally. See, I’d gone under my optimal weight and was looking skinny and feeling weak. As I mentioned previously, somewhere inside it felt familiar and I noticed a slight pleasure creeping in. It was dangerous.

So during the past few weeks I at times forced myself to eat regularly and enough. I’d really fallen out of the habit and my stomach had shrunk accordingly. That danger zone is spooky, though I know now that I feel much better. Walking around, I didn’t feel grounded. It was almost as though the wind could blow through me. I felt imbalanced.

Why is it so tempting? What is so attractive about being strong and skinny? Perhaps it is that child coming out — wanting attention, wanting to be admired for her great feats despite her diminutive appearance.

Perhaps I want to be protected and nurtured. I admit, it was a good feeling to visit with friends and have them tell me I’d gotten skinny and then they gave me good things to eat. Yes, that makes sense. I’m on my own and doing a lot, have taken on a whole bunch of new responsibilities, and there is no one to fall back on at the moment.

With this realization (and having gained back my lost weight — see, I KNEW I would find it again!), I am reminded to look at my needs. Now I need more company. Intuitively, I stopped by to visit a friend the other day.

Last night I went to visit another friend. I hadn’t seen her in ages. We spent an intense few hours talking about everything under the sun (and the moon), and it did both of us good. She spends a lot of time outdoors (biking, hiking, skiing) and doesn’t get together with friends that much. She works and has 4 kids, so her free time is limited.

She asked me what I do to relax. I didn’t know the answer. I’m not such an outdoors person, though I like to walk a lot. On the way home, I realized that my relaxation and tanking up of energy takes place when I have such intense conversations. That connection with other people on a real level is extremely important to me.

I thought I’d share this, since maybe someone can relate. Though I don’t focus too much on the “why” of eating disorders, and prefer to take action, sometimes it’s good to examine “why” in the sense of what I get out of it. What is the benefit? When I recognize the rewards, that enables me to consider a more healthy way to achieve them.

Starting Over

Starting over is something we do several times in our lives. We start over when we move, change schools, change partners, change jobs, when a loved one or friend dies. Of course, we also start over when we recover from an illness or an addiction — whether alcohol, drugs or eating disorder. The magic of recovery is that we can start over. We can start over every single day. If we screw up in the morning, we can start over in the afternoon. Now is the moment to start over.

As I have mentioned in the past, I do notice that it gets harder, the older I get. On the other hand, I have matured, thus my expectations are not quite as high as they once were. I don’t mean to imply that one should settle for less, just that I’m learning to be a little bit more realistic than I was.

There’s an old saying which most of us have heard more often than we cared to, but it is true: “Rome wasn’t built in a day.” To start over and build a new life — on whatever level — is a step-by-step undertaking. Brick by brick I built my new life. If I let the days be symbolized by bricks, I have constructed quite an impressive monument over the past 20 years. But like any other building, it also needs looking after. And 20 years down the line, it is in sore need of renovation. That is difficult, as I evaluate my (energetic and other) resources and contemplate how much I am willing to invest.

When I first began work on this building of recovery, I didn’t know as much as I do now. Thus I used some materials which were not so appropriate, although they worked at the time. I’d say they are comparable to asbestos. Deep down I knew even then that they weren’t the healthiest substances, but I wasn’t ready to go for the top of the line just yet. Now I have a better sense of that.

To start over, I work with what I have. I do the best I can one day at a time. The available materials and resources are implemented, and with time are reevaluated and replaced when necessary. The comparison to a building simplifies this project of life. The real thing isn’t so clear cut. Yet there is an aspect of simplicity, because I don’t have to be perfect and know the end results now. It is a learning process.

One big thing I haved learned is to forgive myself. I forgive myself for wasting so much time being bulimic and anorexic. I forgive myself for wasting time in other ways as well. At this point, I can view it as necessary time, not wasted — although it does pain me at times, but I can live with that. Once I gave up the illusion that I woud figure things out and then live happily ever after, I was much better able to cope.

Day by day I deal with what comes along. I work on being my true self and fulfilling my calling in this life. I don’t know where it’s going to go, but that’s not the point. Just like a board game — we are all excited about playing and who’s going to win, but when it’s over, it’s almost a let-down. So for today, I’m enjoying the fact that I’m still on the board and experiencing the adventures.