Lately, I haven't obsessed much over food
Joan hasn't spoken in weeks
I haven't really felt bad about my body image or my eating habits
I haven't used food to soothe
Recently, I very matter-of-factly, non judgmentally said "I like my shape, it's my size I'm not crazy about."
I do quite resemble this pear
I'm tiny up top and broad where a broad should be broad.
Years ago I got down to my lowest weight...for all of about a week...then I hovered at 'just low enough to be legal' for about 8 months. I was a leader for an international weight loss chain and had to maintain a certain weight to continue in my position.
When I started reaching out for help from my superiors...because it was getting hard, because I was restricting in unhealthy ways, because even though I practiced what I preached I could not keep my weight down...I got the cold shoulder and I left...and I gained....
That was years ago and a lifetime away from the mindset I have now.
I very matter-of-factly and non judgmentally like my shape and would like to work on my size.
I very honestly think losing 15 pounds would be a good place for me.
Now mind you...15 pounds from now has ALWAYS been "FAT" years ago and a lifetime away from the mindset I have now.
I'm rather proud of this feeling
DID YOU READ THAT?
I just said I was proud?!?!
I didn't even feel an insurmountable urge to backspace and delete it from the page
I felt proud of a feeling
OMG
what an accomplishment.
I think I'll take a cue from George Costanza and call it a day :)
I am a scale junkie
I can step on it 10 times in a row
go pee
step on it again
change my clothes
step on it again
move it to a different part of the room
and step on it again
so I decided to stop stepping on it
But last week, I stepped on it
It takes a bit of effort to actually step on my scale
It has to be dug out from under the armoire and plugged in UNDER my desk so obviously I was on a mission...I just wanted to seeeeeee.
Funny thing is, once I got on it, I couldn't remember what I weighed the last time I stepped on a scale.
For a few minutes I wanted my weight to be less... but less than what?
I thought I would feel bad about stepping on the scale, and I did for a minute or two.
I thought I'd become a scale junkie again...
But honestly, I packed it up and put it back where it lives and didn't think twice about it...other than to 'fess up that I weighed and we're uncovering my need to 'fess up in counseling, turns out there is something to that too.
But for now, reflecting on the scale
it wasn't good information
it wasn't bad information
it was neutral information which is what a scale is SUPPOSED to be
***Warning, photos in this post may be disturbing to some***
I was hit with a wall of emotions this morning.
I'm finishing up my BA in Social Services (psych and soc) and there is a required lab component to my Biology class. The lab consists of dissecting a fetal pig.
About a week or two ago I realized I might have a problem with that...not because it's gross, or I don't like to get my fingers dirty...but a real problem...philosophically.
My BFF asked why I didn't try the 'conscientious objector' route...so I did.
I would be given an alternate assignment on the day of lab.
I thought this was a fair trade. I was willing to just take the hit to my grade for not completing the lab component (thus saving my Saturday), but that was not an option presented (even though I offered) so I was in a HS Biology lab room at 9:00 this morning.
It smelled like I remember HS Biology smelling.
I made eye contact with the professor, he acknowledged that he knew I would be completing an alternate assignment and I took a seat.
They were packaged in vacuum seal bags.
The baby pigs.
That or sloshing around in a formaldehyde solution in a 5 gallon bucket.
I started to feel a bit anxious.
The professor placed one pig per dissection tray around the room and classmates started joking nervously (to quell their own discomfort I'm sure) about which were boys, which were girls and whether or not they squealed when they died.
At that point, I had to leave because I just couldn't breathe.
I went for a walk down the hall, found a bathroom and let out a good sigh and several tears.
That's when JOAN started. Who knew she had opinions about this too?
You know you're just being silly about this...
This is just so stupid...
They're all laughing at you, you know...
This is nothing to cry over and you are overreacting...
How could you feel this way if you didn't even know it bothered you until last week, I mean really?!
Just suck it up.
I wanted to leave.
I wanted to pack up my book bag, politely excuse myself, get in my car and cry all the way home.
I felt like I had swallowed my heart and it was stuck in my throat and my stomach was just churning.
As groups were assigned lab tables, my tears leaked a little and my voice cracked, a classmate suggested I go wait in the hall for the professor to give me my assignment and she followed me out not long after.
She asked if she could give me a hug (I'm not usually the 'huggy' type with strangers) and as she put her arms around me I cried.
I feel like I'm being stupid You're not being stupid this is how you feel
I'm in recovery from a life long eating disorder and I'm only just starting to 'feel' feelings. Well no wonder this is so overwhelming
And the conversation went on from there
Turns out this classmate is recovering from some demons of her own past and although I might've liked it better if the Universe didn't decide to bring us together for our catharsis over pigs...I can at least find some understanding of why I was where I was at the time I was there...sigh
I got over the "I have to get out of here NOW" feeling, went into an adjacent classroom and waited for my alternate assignment. I looked at slides
Spirogyra was my favorite...and they were a pretty good band too
I drew pictures of what I saw, dialogued with the prof about what I wanna be when I grow up and made it through the entirety of lab (he ended 5 hours early...Hallelujah!)
No one thought I was stupid
A few different people poked their head in to make sure I was okay throughout the morning and after all the pigs were out of sight, I joined the class again for our lab wrap up.
I feel emotionally sore
You know...after you work out you feel it start to settle into your muscles a few hours later
That emotional surge is settling in
It's still a bit unsettling but...
I didn't listen to JOAN, I stuck to my guns and honored my feelings
I was honest about what I was feeling
I told someone (a stranger!) about my eating disorder and didn't feel shame
and I didn't eat...which I might have if I actually left when I wanted to.
There's success in there somewhere
someday I'll recognize what that feels like
but for now I'll just hit 'publish post.' *Carolina's preserved pigs were not raised for the purpose of dissection; they are a byproduct of the pork industry. Most of the pigs were stillborn and would be discarded were they not reutilized for educational purposes.
Perusing through my blog list the other morning, Sarah's entry caused some interesting thoughts to swirl...
Yesterday my 'run down' post was 100% totally for me.Those simple statements needed to come to life as more than just distant voices and ideas hiding in the recesses of my brain.
It seems to me that thoughts can get stuck
just a 'thought' can get stuck forever a thought
if I had actually spoken to JOAN years ago...I wonder if she would've gone away
I never did...until recently
she was stuck...forever in my thoughts
i've let her out...i've given her 'life' now she can go
It is truly why I blog
I blog for myself
Virtural lurkers may participate at will but I don't write for them
Yes there have been a nanosecond or two where I've thought 'ooh, my hub will read this' but that (as you can see) wasn't me, it was JOAN...she likes it when I keep things quiet, when she can just stay tucked away with the thoughts where she is comfortable and in control.
Sometimes I try to think of how to say something more poetically, using the trunk of metaphors shoved into the closet that is my head...but that's just because I want to be a better writer.
But when I'm dumping...you know not eating just writing, there is no editor, there is no 'posh language inserted here moment' because my fingers move faster than I can think of the words (must have something to do with that mind/body split thing)
Blogging has replaced my use of food to soothe...instead of turning to the fridge, I open my laptop and spew my feelings out my fingers
I will say that...so maybe it is my replacement addiction
I did, for a while, get caught up in who, when, from where...yada yada and all the stats that can make a blogger feel important
But I do feel important
I'm helping MYSELF
turns out in the process, I may be helping someone else too
I know I get a lot of 'healing' reading other blogs
and can I just tell you...JOAN and ED and all their other cohorts HATE it!
So keep reading, keep writing, keep talking
Live out Loud
Let your thoughts out
I am
and I will keep doing so
