Yoga: 20 minute DVD
Other: therapy, about 20 minutes at the gym
Bloating: 5
Cramping: 4
BM Satisfaction: 8
I feel nauseous right now and I have no idea why. I felt like this before dinner, ate dinner anyway, and now it's back.
Okay, lots going on today. I am not sure what to focus on. Last night I was feeling good after dinner, then had my pear juice (a recommendation from my GI for constipation) and definitely noticed I felt much more bloated afterwards. I had been suspicious of it for a while but I wasn't sure - since I'm usually bloated after dinner, it's hard to pinpoint whether the juice was a problem. When I was in treatment, I drank PlumSmart juice with my evening snack, but it's not available back here in Canada.
Pear juice is high in sorbitol and fructose. Sorbitol is a known gas-creator, but fructose can also be, especialy if a person has fructose malabsorption. Since gas is such a big problem for me, I have been reading up on the FODMAPS dietary approach to treating it - by reducing the consumption of foods containing sugar alcohols that can create a big ol' fermentation feast in the colon.
I think I'm going to ask my GP to get tested for fructose malabsorption. I don't think it's the only issue at work here, but I think it could be a piece of the whole IBS pie.
Moving on... it was a tough day body-image wise. Still hungover from the Entourage-laden weekend, binginh on images of skinny women. I wore jeans at work for the first time today, displaying my thighs in all their full, filled-in glory. At lunch I saw my therapist and spoke about feeling stuck, hating being at this weight, but also knowing I wasn't happy when I was skinny, either. That all I think about is how I can get the body I want without being eating-disordered, turning it over and over in my mind. I mean, Demi Moore just tweeted her bikini-bod to the world, if she can look like that, why can't I. Like a dog with a bone, I knaw away at this.
After work I went to the gym. But I was too late to join the "Body Pump" strength class, so I just did a few minutes on the elliptical, a few exercises with hand weights, some situps, and booted out of there. I really, really hate the gym. Especially a gym in which every surface is mirrored. I don't really plan on spending a lot of time there - just a few strength classes, maybe 2-3 times week. The machines, the free weights... hate it. I am much, much happier practising yoga. I am looking forward my Brian Kest DVD arriving in the mail this week, so I can get do some more intensive work at home.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
Triggers
Yoga: 2 hour class
Bloating: 4
Cramping: 3
BM Satisfaction: 7
Not a too-bad day, IBS-wise. Got quite bloated after my afternoon snack of almonds - wondering if they are causing problems. Decided to soak my almonds overnight this week to see if that helps.
I struggled in yoga. I hadn't taken a class with this teacher before, and she has a devout following at the studio, so I was expecting greatness. And it wasn't a bad class, I just found her tone a little too serious for me. I actually have a crush on this woman's brother, also a yoga teacher, but I am sensing that they are both a bit negative. Like berating their students a little. Just a subtle feeling that we were disappointing her. I dunno, I just felt no joy today. Also, I had eaten lunch just an hour before, and the studio was hot and packed and I felt really nauseous. So I was just kind of counting the minutes. My heart sank when we hit the 90-minute mark and we still weren't in savasana and I realized it was a 2-hour class.
Also, the anorexic girl was there. She is hard to look at, she is so thin. Skin stretched over tendons and veins. She is quite adept at yoga, does all the advanced variations of poses, holds her headstands forever, and throws in an extra vinyasa any chance she gets (burns more calories, natch). I spent much of the class debating whether I should tell the staff that they should not be letting her take an ashtanga class, she could drop dead at any minute. Then I realized that what I was wasn't genuine concern for her wellbeing, but rage, indignation: How dare she be allowed to roam around freely in that body, doing as she wishes? I wasn't!
And then I reminded myself that when I was thin, like her, I was sad. It was painful. That yogini is suffering. She doesn't need my hate, she needs my compassion.
Also there was a guy who grunted and sighed throughout class. Like he was having sex - or going to the bathroom. Either way, between him and the stick figure and my nausea, it wasn't a dream class.
This afternoon I watched the rest of the Entourage DVDs I rented. I have been watching this stuff all weekend - and also hating my body all weekend. Every episode features a half dozen young, thin, insanely gorgeous female specimens. This season was particularly disturbing in that the girl who plays a supporting role as one of the girlfriends is clearly, vastly underweight. I'd put her at 90 pounds max. It's that Nicole Richie look which is, unfortunately, fashionable. I get that. But to present her as also the object of male lust? She looks like an infant. With a very, very large head.
So of course I had to google this actress and read that she was not always so emaciated. ED - and Hollywood - claims another victim.
I am so tired of hating my body. And yet everywhere I look, I get the message that this is what counts, this is what I'm good for.
Maybe I need to start looking in new places. I.e. not Entourage.
Steak.
Bloating: 4
Cramping: 3
BM Satisfaction: 7
Not a too-bad day, IBS-wise. Got quite bloated after my afternoon snack of almonds - wondering if they are causing problems. Decided to soak my almonds overnight this week to see if that helps.
I struggled in yoga. I hadn't taken a class with this teacher before, and she has a devout following at the studio, so I was expecting greatness. And it wasn't a bad class, I just found her tone a little too serious for me. I actually have a crush on this woman's brother, also a yoga teacher, but I am sensing that they are both a bit negative. Like berating their students a little. Just a subtle feeling that we were disappointing her. I dunno, I just felt no joy today. Also, I had eaten lunch just an hour before, and the studio was hot and packed and I felt really nauseous. So I was just kind of counting the minutes. My heart sank when we hit the 90-minute mark and we still weren't in savasana and I realized it was a 2-hour class.
Also, the anorexic girl was there. She is hard to look at, she is so thin. Skin stretched over tendons and veins. She is quite adept at yoga, does all the advanced variations of poses, holds her headstands forever, and throws in an extra vinyasa any chance she gets (burns more calories, natch). I spent much of the class debating whether I should tell the staff that they should not be letting her take an ashtanga class, she could drop dead at any minute. Then I realized that what I was wasn't genuine concern for her wellbeing, but rage, indignation: How dare she be allowed to roam around freely in that body, doing as she wishes? I wasn't!
And then I reminded myself that when I was thin, like her, I was sad. It was painful. That yogini is suffering. She doesn't need my hate, she needs my compassion.
Also there was a guy who grunted and sighed throughout class. Like he was having sex - or going to the bathroom. Either way, between him and the stick figure and my nausea, it wasn't a dream class.
This afternoon I watched the rest of the Entourage DVDs I rented. I have been watching this stuff all weekend - and also hating my body all weekend. Every episode features a half dozen young, thin, insanely gorgeous female specimens. This season was particularly disturbing in that the girl who plays a supporting role as one of the girlfriends is clearly, vastly underweight. I'd put her at 90 pounds max. It's that Nicole Richie look which is, unfortunately, fashionable. I get that. But to present her as also the object of male lust? She looks like an infant. With a very, very large head.
So of course I had to google this actress and read that she was not always so emaciated. ED - and Hollywood - claims another victim.
I am so tired of hating my body. And yet everywhere I look, I get the message that this is what counts, this is what I'm good for.
Maybe I need to start looking in new places. I.e. not Entourage.
Steak.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
I Stumbled
Yoga: 30 minute DVD
Bloating: 5
Cramping: 6
BM Satisfaction: 5
Last night I binged and purged. This is the 3rd time I've done so since last summer, when it was happening fairly regularly. The last time was just a few days before I flew out of state to get ED treatment. All during treatment, the entire weight gain process, I didn't binge or purge once. Since I was enrolled in a day program, I was with many girls who, during morning check in, would discose that they'd engaged in bulimic behaviour the night before. I could empathize with them becuase, God knows, I have been there. I did it for over a decade. But when I listened to their stories, I felt relief - I really thought those days were over for me. Bulimia makes my IBS a thousand times worse, so I just would not allow myself to torture myself that way anymore. And of course the act itself is just awful, violent, makes my eyes bloodshot and my glands swell and my heart race and my head pound and my sleep tortured. I regret it so deeply afterwards that it has lost any appeal to me whatsoever.
And then last night. What happened? It's pretty simple: I wasn't following my meal plan. For a number of reasons, I restricted at breakfast and lunch, then I missed afternoon snack, went way too long until dinner, ate dinner too fast, had a dessert which, when I bit into, revealed actual mold. Ate the damned thing anyways - and then I was off and running.
There was also an emotional piece. I was sad last night. Sad at being alone on a Saturday night, walking through Little Italy on an unusually brisk evening and felt this summer draw to a close. Again, a summer spent mostly alone. The neighborhood was alive with people, eating lasagna and funnel cakes on paper plates. I was hungry but I am still fearful of these foods. So I wander and I watch others eat and I feel so along, always and forever alone.
While I was in treatment, I fell in love with the meal plan. At last! A simple way of ensuring that I got enough at every meal, never got too hungry, stayed satisfied, and ate a balanced diet containing enough servings of all the food groups. As long as I followed my meal plan, I figured I would never binge again. I was staying with my aunt, in a house rammed with caloric treats, and I never binged once. The treatment center staff were as impressed with me as I was.
The problem is that my meal plan was designed for gaining weight. Although it was reduced with the goal of maintaining my weight a few weeks before I left treatment, I did not, in fact, maintain on the revised plan. I gained a few more pounds in treatment, then a few more after leaving treatment, and I am just not prepared to gain any more at this point. Which leaves me with the sticky task of figuring out what an actual maintenance plan would look like for me.
So I have been tweaking it here and there, but yesterday I didn't even stick to my own edited plan. For one, it was raining, so I didn't get the groceries as I usually do on Saturdays. So I was low on food. But also, I will admit, I was (am?) not even trying to simply maintain - I am trying to lose weight. The number on the scale has creeped just a little too high for comfort. So I figured I need to scale the diet way back.
I am not going to beat myself up too much. Instead, I am choosing to be grateful for last night, as it reminded me - in a not-so-subtle way - that I need to "work" my recovery. Skipping meals and restricting for me is a road straight to hell.
I have signed up at the gym and have been debating whether to get my metabolism assessed on their fancy-dance scale. I am worried it might be triggering, especially being told my body fat percentage which I'm sure is on the high side of acceptable. But it might be helpful for me to find out how many calories I am burning in a day, and then I could figure out a meal plan based on that, versus my current method of trial and error.
This is when I really wish I was still in treatment. I wish I could afford a nutritionist to help me with this. Maybe I need to get some more help.
Bloating: 5
Cramping: 6
BM Satisfaction: 5
Last night I binged and purged. This is the 3rd time I've done so since last summer, when it was happening fairly regularly. The last time was just a few days before I flew out of state to get ED treatment. All during treatment, the entire weight gain process, I didn't binge or purge once. Since I was enrolled in a day program, I was with many girls who, during morning check in, would discose that they'd engaged in bulimic behaviour the night before. I could empathize with them becuase, God knows, I have been there. I did it for over a decade. But when I listened to their stories, I felt relief - I really thought those days were over for me. Bulimia makes my IBS a thousand times worse, so I just would not allow myself to torture myself that way anymore. And of course the act itself is just awful, violent, makes my eyes bloodshot and my glands swell and my heart race and my head pound and my sleep tortured. I regret it so deeply afterwards that it has lost any appeal to me whatsoever.
And then last night. What happened? It's pretty simple: I wasn't following my meal plan. For a number of reasons, I restricted at breakfast and lunch, then I missed afternoon snack, went way too long until dinner, ate dinner too fast, had a dessert which, when I bit into, revealed actual mold. Ate the damned thing anyways - and then I was off and running.
There was also an emotional piece. I was sad last night. Sad at being alone on a Saturday night, walking through Little Italy on an unusually brisk evening and felt this summer draw to a close. Again, a summer spent mostly alone. The neighborhood was alive with people, eating lasagna and funnel cakes on paper plates. I was hungry but I am still fearful of these foods. So I wander and I watch others eat and I feel so along, always and forever alone.
While I was in treatment, I fell in love with the meal plan. At last! A simple way of ensuring that I got enough at every meal, never got too hungry, stayed satisfied, and ate a balanced diet containing enough servings of all the food groups. As long as I followed my meal plan, I figured I would never binge again. I was staying with my aunt, in a house rammed with caloric treats, and I never binged once. The treatment center staff were as impressed with me as I was.
The problem is that my meal plan was designed for gaining weight. Although it was reduced with the goal of maintaining my weight a few weeks before I left treatment, I did not, in fact, maintain on the revised plan. I gained a few more pounds in treatment, then a few more after leaving treatment, and I am just not prepared to gain any more at this point. Which leaves me with the sticky task of figuring out what an actual maintenance plan would look like for me.
So I have been tweaking it here and there, but yesterday I didn't even stick to my own edited plan. For one, it was raining, so I didn't get the groceries as I usually do on Saturdays. So I was low on food. But also, I will admit, I was (am?) not even trying to simply maintain - I am trying to lose weight. The number on the scale has creeped just a little too high for comfort. So I figured I need to scale the diet way back.
I am not going to beat myself up too much. Instead, I am choosing to be grateful for last night, as it reminded me - in a not-so-subtle way - that I need to "work" my recovery. Skipping meals and restricting for me is a road straight to hell.
I have signed up at the gym and have been debating whether to get my metabolism assessed on their fancy-dance scale. I am worried it might be triggering, especially being told my body fat percentage which I'm sure is on the high side of acceptable. But it might be helpful for me to find out how many calories I am burning in a day, and then I could figure out a meal plan based on that, versus my current method of trial and error.
This is when I really wish I was still in treatment. I wish I could afford a nutritionist to help me with this. Maybe I need to get some more help.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Aha! Moment
Yoga: 20 minute DVD
Other: therapy
Bloating: 9
Cramping: 4
BM Satisfaction: 5 (Must. Drink. More. Water.)
I feel like I made a body-image breakthrough today. Yesterday in this blog I was hating on those niggling 5 pounds, but today I said to my therapist, "I would rather be 5 pounds over my ideal than 20 pounds under it". And what's more, I actually meant it!
Yes, finding clothes that fit my seam-busting boobs and not-negligible tummy is tougher. But good god, this is RIDICULOUS. I have a HOT body. No, I am not tall and leggy, with a flat stomach and a 24" waist. But I am petite and curvy, with tiny hands and feet, slim ankles, a round bottom, muscular calves and an outstanding cleavage. I have a biggish nose, but I have beautiful eyes. My lips are on the thin side, but my teeth are spectacular. I could spend the next 50 years loathing the bad parts, or I could revel in the good. I am sexy. And you, dear reader (if indeed this blog ever gets read), are sexy too. Cuz if only supermodels were sexy, the human race would have died out a long time ago.
I still feel the compulsion to make my body the "best" it can be - strength, flexibility, tone and shape. But I also am coming to see that the raw materials, the nuts and bolts of my body, aren't so bad.
On an unrelated note... I was quite busy at work today and ate both breakfast and lunch on a bit of a tense, revved-up tummy. And, sure enough, the food hit it like a rock, and it was insta-bloat. I need to find ways to relax before I eat, otherwise it's just a downhill spiral. I could start by getting to bed early, so that I can wake up early, so that I am not running late to work and then getting to my desk and eating breakfast in that state. Which means I am gonna hit the hay right now!
Love the shit out of yourself. That's it, really. Just fall in love with your loveliness.
Other: therapy
Bloating: 9
Cramping: 4
BM Satisfaction: 5 (Must. Drink. More. Water.)
I feel like I made a body-image breakthrough today. Yesterday in this blog I was hating on those niggling 5 pounds, but today I said to my therapist, "I would rather be 5 pounds over my ideal than 20 pounds under it". And what's more, I actually meant it!
Yes, finding clothes that fit my seam-busting boobs and not-negligible tummy is tougher. But good god, this is RIDICULOUS. I have a HOT body. No, I am not tall and leggy, with a flat stomach and a 24" waist. But I am petite and curvy, with tiny hands and feet, slim ankles, a round bottom, muscular calves and an outstanding cleavage. I have a biggish nose, but I have beautiful eyes. My lips are on the thin side, but my teeth are spectacular. I could spend the next 50 years loathing the bad parts, or I could revel in the good. I am sexy. And you, dear reader (if indeed this blog ever gets read), are sexy too. Cuz if only supermodels were sexy, the human race would have died out a long time ago.
I still feel the compulsion to make my body the "best" it can be - strength, flexibility, tone and shape. But I also am coming to see that the raw materials, the nuts and bolts of my body, aren't so bad.
On an unrelated note... I was quite busy at work today and ate both breakfast and lunch on a bit of a tense, revved-up tummy. And, sure enough, the food hit it like a rock, and it was insta-bloat. I need to find ways to relax before I eat, otherwise it's just a downhill spiral. I could start by getting to bed early, so that I can wake up early, so that I am not running late to work and then getting to my desk and eating breakfast in that state. Which means I am gonna hit the hay right now!
Love the shit out of yourself. That's it, really. Just fall in love with your loveliness.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Weight
Yoga: 20 minute DVD
Bloating: 7
Cramping: 5
BM Satisfaction: 8
I am mired in ED thoughts today. I really, really, really think I look better at about 5 pounds less than I am now. (Well, I also think I look better at 10 pounds less, but I know that weight is too hard to maintain and is an unhealthy BMI). I have never been at the weight I am now and not been trying to lose more. The idea of staying at this weight seems scary and wierd and... wrong. Why weigh more than what looks best on your figure? Because I am an apple-shape, I feel I have more of a womanly, hourglassy figure when I'm a little thinner.
But I probably shouldn't be losing weight. I'm still not menstruating. As for what my body's "set point' is, I have no idea. The last time I was not exhibiting ED behaviours I was 12 years old. In high school I didn't have a full-blown ED but I developped bad eating habits - I stopped packing a lunch to school (in a misguided attempt to lose weight), then got home at 4 pm starving and binged on an almost daily basis. I was about 5-7 pounds heavier in high school than I am now. And this is the scary part for me - I was and am still convinced I was much too fat in high school. So if I was "too fat" at 7 pounds more than this, how could I possibly be okay now?
(And yes, I realize that maybe I was wrong in high school. This is what my sister tells me. I mean, I know I am not actually a fat person at that weight. But my chest is larger, it's harder to find clothes that work, etc etc.)
So yeah. I want to lose a tiny bit of weight. I know. ED. At the same time, I have grown to like the amount of food I eat in a day - it doesn't feel like tons, and I wouldn't want to eat much less. So my solution is, yes, you guessed it, exercise. But not the cardio-heavy workouts I did in the past. I want to build some muscle so that I look better at the size I'm at now, and so that my metabolism starts burning a few more calories when my body's at rest.
The yoga is great but I am using it as more of a relaxation technique. So today I rejoined the gym attached to my office, and hope to use my lunch breaks more produtctively - to actually leave my desk, which I never do, and go do a pilates or strength training class.
Yeah, this post is really sad. So much to achieve, to do... and I'm stuck on 5 pounds and muscles and all the rest of it. I have als been thinking a lot about plastic surgery - fixing my nose, tightening my jawline, plumping my lips. And hair extensions. Etc. Etc. Etc. That's the thing - it never ends. At 5 pounds less I will not be happier. There is always something else.
Bloating: 7
Cramping: 5
BM Satisfaction: 8
I am mired in ED thoughts today. I really, really, really think I look better at about 5 pounds less than I am now. (Well, I also think I look better at 10 pounds less, but I know that weight is too hard to maintain and is an unhealthy BMI). I have never been at the weight I am now and not been trying to lose more. The idea of staying at this weight seems scary and wierd and... wrong. Why weigh more than what looks best on your figure? Because I am an apple-shape, I feel I have more of a womanly, hourglassy figure when I'm a little thinner.
But I probably shouldn't be losing weight. I'm still not menstruating. As for what my body's "set point' is, I have no idea. The last time I was not exhibiting ED behaviours I was 12 years old. In high school I didn't have a full-blown ED but I developped bad eating habits - I stopped packing a lunch to school (in a misguided attempt to lose weight), then got home at 4 pm starving and binged on an almost daily basis. I was about 5-7 pounds heavier in high school than I am now. And this is the scary part for me - I was and am still convinced I was much too fat in high school. So if I was "too fat" at 7 pounds more than this, how could I possibly be okay now?
(And yes, I realize that maybe I was wrong in high school. This is what my sister tells me. I mean, I know I am not actually a fat person at that weight. But my chest is larger, it's harder to find clothes that work, etc etc.)
So yeah. I want to lose a tiny bit of weight. I know. ED. At the same time, I have grown to like the amount of food I eat in a day - it doesn't feel like tons, and I wouldn't want to eat much less. So my solution is, yes, you guessed it, exercise. But not the cardio-heavy workouts I did in the past. I want to build some muscle so that I look better at the size I'm at now, and so that my metabolism starts burning a few more calories when my body's at rest.
The yoga is great but I am using it as more of a relaxation technique. So today I rejoined the gym attached to my office, and hope to use my lunch breaks more produtctively - to actually leave my desk, which I never do, and go do a pilates or strength training class.
Yeah, this post is really sad. So much to achieve, to do... and I'm stuck on 5 pounds and muscles and all the rest of it. I have als been thinking a lot about plastic surgery - fixing my nose, tightening my jawline, plumping my lips. And hair extensions. Etc. Etc. Etc. That's the thing - it never ends. At 5 pounds less I will not be happier. There is always something else.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
BBQ Debrief
Yoga: 20-minute DVD
Bloating: 7 (looked bad but not painful)
Cramping: 6
BM Satisfaction: 6 (went twice, morning was good but evening left me crampy)
I am not sure I am going to keep up the format of this blog - the daily symptom and yoga log. Seems kind of repetitive and probably not useful for anyone except for me.
Sunday started rough. As I wrote on Saturday, I had been concerned about the fact that I was going to a family bbq, the timing of which cut into my go-to-the-bathroom schedule. So on Sunday I tried to go beforehand - but I ended up forcing too much and consequently throwing my gut into spasm. So I left for the barbeque feeling both constipated and competely cramped up. Not a fun combination.
I still managed to have a good time there - I had quite a bit of wine, and yes I know it aggravates IBS but I was trying to relax the iron-clad grip of my colon. And everyone seemed very pleased to see the "old me" back. My uncle gave me like a full-body-contact hug - he had also had a lot of wine, lol. When you are trapped in the ED mindframe of Skinny Is Best, you don't fully appreciate that it makes other people feel sad to look at you. Not just because you look, well, freakin' HUNGRY, but because you don't look like YOU. I mean, I just saw my aunt and uncle a few months ago, and yet when I walked in their house, it's like I was war-weary soldier returning from the front.
So yeah, I felt like crap physically but I also felt happy and loved. The weather was perfect and the food (and sangria!) were delish. And I had a great conversation with my cousin's girlfriend M who likewise suffers from bloating and constipation, and who likewise went to a naturopath (in fact, the same one I saw 13 years ago) who prescribed a rigid diet and a whack of supplements. M also felt the stress of trying to follow that diet. And she recently noticed that her stomach problems dissappeared while on vacation. So M is coming to feel that her unhappy gut has more to do with her stressful, drama-filled job than her diet. ]
However, M did mention that she found kefir was the one thing that seemed to help. I take a probiotic and I eat yoghurt, but I figured no harm in trying kefir as well, since she's the 3rd person in the last couple of months to mention it to me - my shiatsu guy just recommended it last week. So I picked some up today.
At the barbeque, I also couldn't help notice my other cousin C's approach to food (and yes, I notice everyone's approach to food). She had an eating disorder as a teen, and then shifted to a raw food diet, then eating for your blood type, etc. I think that a lot of formerly-ED people do this - sure, they aren't puking up their meals anymore, but they refuse to eat normally, always looking for the perfect, "right" diet. At least, I did. And I notice she is still quite slim, and still eats so differently than everyone else. And it makes me sad. She doesn't know I just spent 3 months in ED treatment, so I am thinking of writing her an email just sharing with her my experience. But I'm not sure I should meddle, as we are not that close.
There is a woman I work with who is perpetually "on a diet" and makes a lot of comments about other people's bodies and what they are eating. Today she came by my desk as I was eating lunch - cottage cheese, celery, peanut butter sandwich - and asked me if I was on a diet. I said no, why? She said, that just looks like diet food. I said, no I actually like cottage cheese. I am not sure of the point of this story. Just that I wish this woman would stop talking to me about diets and weight and don't X and Y have the most perfect bodies. As if I am now a card-carrying member of the not-perfect body club, along with her. Grrrr.
Bloating: 7 (looked bad but not painful)
Cramping: 6
BM Satisfaction: 6 (went twice, morning was good but evening left me crampy)
I am not sure I am going to keep up the format of this blog - the daily symptom and yoga log. Seems kind of repetitive and probably not useful for anyone except for me.
Sunday started rough. As I wrote on Saturday, I had been concerned about the fact that I was going to a family bbq, the timing of which cut into my go-to-the-bathroom schedule. So on Sunday I tried to go beforehand - but I ended up forcing too much and consequently throwing my gut into spasm. So I left for the barbeque feeling both constipated and competely cramped up. Not a fun combination.
I still managed to have a good time there - I had quite a bit of wine, and yes I know it aggravates IBS but I was trying to relax the iron-clad grip of my colon. And everyone seemed very pleased to see the "old me" back. My uncle gave me like a full-body-contact hug - he had also had a lot of wine, lol. When you are trapped in the ED mindframe of Skinny Is Best, you don't fully appreciate that it makes other people feel sad to look at you. Not just because you look, well, freakin' HUNGRY, but because you don't look like YOU. I mean, I just saw my aunt and uncle a few months ago, and yet when I walked in their house, it's like I was war-weary soldier returning from the front.
So yeah, I felt like crap physically but I also felt happy and loved. The weather was perfect and the food (and sangria!) were delish. And I had a great conversation with my cousin's girlfriend M who likewise suffers from bloating and constipation, and who likewise went to a naturopath (in fact, the same one I saw 13 years ago) who prescribed a rigid diet and a whack of supplements. M also felt the stress of trying to follow that diet. And she recently noticed that her stomach problems dissappeared while on vacation. So M is coming to feel that her unhappy gut has more to do with her stressful, drama-filled job than her diet. ]
However, M did mention that she found kefir was the one thing that seemed to help. I take a probiotic and I eat yoghurt, but I figured no harm in trying kefir as well, since she's the 3rd person in the last couple of months to mention it to me - my shiatsu guy just recommended it last week. So I picked some up today.
At the barbeque, I also couldn't help notice my other cousin C's approach to food (and yes, I notice everyone's approach to food). She had an eating disorder as a teen, and then shifted to a raw food diet, then eating for your blood type, etc. I think that a lot of formerly-ED people do this - sure, they aren't puking up their meals anymore, but they refuse to eat normally, always looking for the perfect, "right" diet. At least, I did. And I notice she is still quite slim, and still eats so differently than everyone else. And it makes me sad. She doesn't know I just spent 3 months in ED treatment, so I am thinking of writing her an email just sharing with her my experience. But I'm not sure I should meddle, as we are not that close.
There is a woman I work with who is perpetually "on a diet" and makes a lot of comments about other people's bodies and what they are eating. Today she came by my desk as I was eating lunch - cottage cheese, celery, peanut butter sandwich - and asked me if I was on a diet. I said no, why? She said, that just looks like diet food. I said, no I actually like cottage cheese. I am not sure of the point of this story. Just that I wish this woman would stop talking to me about diets and weight and don't X and Y have the most perfect bodies. As if I am now a card-carrying member of the not-perfect body club, along with her. Grrrr.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Shopping Is Bad for My Health
Yoga: 1.5 hour class (with the uber cute instructor who is gonna one day father my children)
Cramping: 5 (after dinner)
Bloating: 4
BM Satisfaction: 7
I had a pretty great morning and early afternoon - my usual ritual of yoga, shower, eat lunch while watching Come Dine with Me (brilliant show, if you like British humour and dinner parties), then to the grocery store for my week's haul. Yoga was with this gorgeous god of a teacher whom I want so much to impress with my perfect asanas. It's actually funny, sometimes when he is describing a pose, I get so distracted looking at his body that I don't listen to what he's saying, and then he gently chastises me for not following his instructions. If only he knew what was going on my little mind!
In late afternoon, I turned my mind to the question of what I'm going to wear tomorrow to a barbeque at my aunt and uncle's. I have debated all week whether I should even go. Frankly, I don't want them seeing me the way I look right now. I mean, these are my relatives, they've seen me in diapers. I am being ridiculous. But that's the ED, I guess. Anyway, I tried on a few of my things and just felt nothing is working on my body right now. It's easy to conceal thighs with a skirt, or arms with a t-shirt, but I find it impossible to hide the fact that I have almost no waist, a huge stomach and a muffin top.
Finally I settled on some yoga-type capri pants and wedge sandals but was still stumped in the shirt department. So I decide I'm just gonna pop into the stores to buy a looser style of tank top. Mistake. I wander the stores and all I see are clothes that I don't feel I can wear. Maybe I need to stop thinking I need to conceal my fat, maybe that's the problem. But I'm not there yet. All I saw were cute clothes that would have looked amazing on me 10 pounds ago. Fashion really is for the thin.
After about an hour of wandering through the racks, punctured by a few meltdowns as I stared down my bra-and-pantied reflection in the changing room mirros, I noticed my stomach felt tense. I was feeling fine before shopping. And it saddened me to know that I am letting my poor body image affect my gut, my digestion. Not only am I suffering mentally, but I am adding to my physical pain. It's horrible. It is a beautiful summer's day and I am walking down the street fighting back tears. And the only thing that calms me is telling myself that in a year's time, I won't look like this. That a year's worth of yoga and weight training....and yes, maybe even dieting.. I'll have a different, better shape. I'm be skipping down this same street with definition in my arms, an actual WAIST, a shitload of shopping bags, and a spring in my step.
But that thought, that image -that's not recovery. Recovery is accepting that this IS my body and appreciating it the way it is. I look at other girls on the street, and yeah, there are some teeny-weeny ones, but there a lot of girls who are bigger than me. And somehow they look fine in their clothes. Whereas I look atrocious. How can this be? I actually find myself thinking, "Well, that's okay for them, but not for me. I need to be thinner to be attractive." But why should the rules be different for me? I think that's always been at the core of my ED, the thought that I can't "get away" with just having a normal, average body. That because I am not the world's greatest beauty in terms of my face and hair, that I needed an astounding body to make up for it. And I still feel that way. That, as is, I am not good enough as I am. Guys aren't looking my way on the street these days. I am totally, absymally, ordinary.
Cramping: 5 (after dinner)
Bloating: 4
BM Satisfaction: 7
I had a pretty great morning and early afternoon - my usual ritual of yoga, shower, eat lunch while watching Come Dine with Me (brilliant show, if you like British humour and dinner parties), then to the grocery store for my week's haul. Yoga was with this gorgeous god of a teacher whom I want so much to impress with my perfect asanas. It's actually funny, sometimes when he is describing a pose, I get so distracted looking at his body that I don't listen to what he's saying, and then he gently chastises me for not following his instructions. If only he knew what was going on my little mind!
In late afternoon, I turned my mind to the question of what I'm going to wear tomorrow to a barbeque at my aunt and uncle's. I have debated all week whether I should even go. Frankly, I don't want them seeing me the way I look right now. I mean, these are my relatives, they've seen me in diapers. I am being ridiculous. But that's the ED, I guess. Anyway, I tried on a few of my things and just felt nothing is working on my body right now. It's easy to conceal thighs with a skirt, or arms with a t-shirt, but I find it impossible to hide the fact that I have almost no waist, a huge stomach and a muffin top.
Finally I settled on some yoga-type capri pants and wedge sandals but was still stumped in the shirt department. So I decide I'm just gonna pop into the stores to buy a looser style of tank top. Mistake. I wander the stores and all I see are clothes that I don't feel I can wear. Maybe I need to stop thinking I need to conceal my fat, maybe that's the problem. But I'm not there yet. All I saw were cute clothes that would have looked amazing on me 10 pounds ago. Fashion really is for the thin.
After about an hour of wandering through the racks, punctured by a few meltdowns as I stared down my bra-and-pantied reflection in the changing room mirros, I noticed my stomach felt tense. I was feeling fine before shopping. And it saddened me to know that I am letting my poor body image affect my gut, my digestion. Not only am I suffering mentally, but I am adding to my physical pain. It's horrible. It is a beautiful summer's day and I am walking down the street fighting back tears. And the only thing that calms me is telling myself that in a year's time, I won't look like this. That a year's worth of yoga and weight training....and yes, maybe even dieting.. I'll have a different, better shape. I'm be skipping down this same street with definition in my arms, an actual WAIST, a shitload of shopping bags, and a spring in my step.
But that thought, that image -that's not recovery. Recovery is accepting that this IS my body and appreciating it the way it is. I look at other girls on the street, and yeah, there are some teeny-weeny ones, but there a lot of girls who are bigger than me. And somehow they look fine in their clothes. Whereas I look atrocious. How can this be? I actually find myself thinking, "Well, that's okay for them, but not for me. I need to be thinner to be attractive." But why should the rules be different for me? I think that's always been at the core of my ED, the thought that I can't "get away" with just having a normal, average body. That because I am not the world's greatest beauty in terms of my face and hair, that I needed an astounding body to make up for it. And I still feel that way. That, as is, I am not good enough as I am. Guys aren't looking my way on the street these days. I am totally, absymally, ordinary.
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