Rainy Sunday Happiness

 

This was my goal for today. Too often, I find myself slipping into the easy routine of free time spent watching TV while scrolling through time wasting websites. Today I decided that whenever I caught myself about to reach for these over used distractions that I was going to ask myself if that was really what I wanted to do. And some times I did. There were TV shows watched and Buzzfeed and Pintrest explored, but there were times I knew I wanted something different and abstained. There were some mundane chores and tasks that I knew I'd regret putting off so I didn't, but there were others I left for another day. As the evening approaches I look back on today and feel happy. I went out walking in the rain for a cool morning walk that refreshed my soul. I went inside dancing to my favorite songs while the rain continued to sing outside. I took the most delicious late morning nap, drifting in and out of dreams that continue to fill me with secret delight. I worked on an art project inspired by travel, and lifted the cover of a new book to discover a most magical world of fairies inside. And never fear, food was eaten in great abundance.

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I also picked up one of my books on Norway to read up more on this sensational country I'm about to head off to. In one of the chapters titled "Life in the Mountains" I came across this little bit of information:

"Trolls
These legendary Norwegian mountain creatures, hostile to humans, can have several heads, a hairy tail, only four fingers, large ears and an unusually long nose (for stirring porridge). They vary from dwarf-like to giant-size. Lurking anywhere in the mountains, they are especially given to living under bridges. Trolls are thought to be responsible for any event for which there is no other logical explanation. Fortunately for walkers they turn to stone in sunlight."

Can I just saw how much I LOVE that an official tourist guide book has introduced this subject of trolls without any question or doubt as to their existence in reality. With just that one paragraph, my excitement for this trip has increased exponentially. And just in case you all are doubting the veracity of it's words, here are just a few pictures of the Norwegian land I am about to explore...

 

 

 

I can't wait!

Holding Steady

I know I have at least a mother who probably really wants to know, so a quick check-in on my weight gain effort. This week went fairly well. I had my Ensure every morning, and it was actually less difficult than I'd imagined. With a couple small exceptions, I ate everything  that I was supposed to. I went back to my normal walking routine on Monday, but since I'm still trying to get over this blasted cold, I haven't done any serious exercise in almost two weeks. I've gotten more sleep than usual, drank plenty of water and tea, and spent quite a bit of my evenings sitting and resting despite her protests. Overall, I think I made good, positive, fighting for myself decisions. One thing I would say I definitely failed at was trying to eat something else in addition to my Ensure. There were a couple of days I managed an apple but that was really it.

The result was, I guess I'd say is potentially positive, my weight stayed exactly the same. The fact that I didn't lose any more is definitely great, but I also didn't meet my goal of gaining either. So my commitment to myself, to everyone supporting me, is to add one more Ensure to my day. That will mean: breakfast, lunch, dinner, 3 snacks (that have been added to over the last few weeks), and 2 Ensures.

Yesterday instead of the second drink I had an extra snack, and this morning I just added to my breakfast. My second "drink" has been a little bit harder to swallow (literally and figuratively) than the first, but apparently her fight to destroy has come up against my strong iron walled resolve to be healthy for Norway. Well that and the fact that my thoughts are so wrapped up in focusing on everything I still have to do before I leave, and figuring out what to do when I get back (what happens after August 5th is still a big gray question mark). Those two things are proving to be a good mental distraction from her wicked lies.

The picture above showed up in my e-mail yesterday. Not only is it just adorable (I do so love kittens!), it is also a good example of how I will be with all my drinks, meals and snacks until further notice. I have one more weight check before I fly towards Norway, and I'm determined to make that uptick on the scale happen.

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Good Actions

The other day as I was scrolling through Pintrest (something I do far too often) I came across someone, also in recovery, who had made themselves a list of "Alternatives to Self-Destructive Behavior". I loved the idea and pinned it onto my Recovery board as a possible thing to do myself, and moved onto other things.

Today I woke up to cold air on my face, I turned to my open window and peered out to see rain hitting the streets like wildfire. My first thought was "Yay, rain!", my second thought was "I feel awful", my third "It doesn't matter how you feel, you need to go for a walk now". I normally do start off my Sundays by taking a long morning walk. I like how few people are out that time of day, and the sun, heat and humidity still have a few hours to reach their peak making the air outside still pleasant.I would have loved being out in the rain, but I knew beyond doubt that it would hurt my efforts to kick this cold and I'd only feel worse after. She didn't care though, she told me if I wanted to eat all of my meal plan than I needed to walk as much I would if healthy. I told her to shut up, I took a shower and went back to sleep the rest of the morning.

I've spent the rest of the day responding to her cruel statements with one of my own "Actions speak louder than words". I've been telling everyone that I will do my absolute best to gain weight this week because I am committed to my health, but those words mean nothing if I don't make the right choices to make sure that happens. I tried to pretend like I was a patient at Mercy again, where all I was allowed to do on weekends was sit and eat with exercise being strictly off limits. So I've slept, sat and read, and eaten. This afternoon I felt more full of energy, more like a human being, and decided some fresh air would be beneficial. So I discharged myself from my mental Mercy stay, went for a walk. It was only a short one, on my terms not hers, and it was nice feel the slight breeze and see the rain drops gracing the tree leaves. Although I walked only a fraction of what I do most days, I was tired when I got home so I changed back in to pjs and had a snack. My other project for today was to make my own list of "Alternatives to Self-Destructive Acts". I figured this was a week where having one would be particularly helpful. It isn't particularly long, but I think I have some pretty great options on there...

 

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There was one other thing that helped me stay strong today. Given that it's Father's Day, it makes sense that my dad would be in the forefront of my thoughts. During my session last week, my therapist and I had talked about  Father's Day, and she also asked how I thought my dad would have responded to my eating disorder. My answer was that I honestly didn't know. I think he would have been confused about what it meant and why it happened. I don't think he would have understood just what eating disorders are, but then most people don't. I think he would have been unsure of how to handle it and react towards me, at least at first. But knowing my dads penchant for talking through everything (to a degree that drove me nuts when I was younger), I think he would have sat down and talked to me in an effort to understand what I was going through. I do know that regardless of anything else, what he would want was for me to get healthy.  He would encourage me and support me through this journey to recovery, and fight for me and with me as much as he could. I guess in a way he does...because it wasn't just today that he helped me stay strong through his memory, it's every day. He does that for me every day.

Update

My recent trip to Utah was a much needed event for many reasons. While maybe not the most financially intelligent decision, it brought me boundless joy and happiness to be with my best friend, and true health and peace of mind to see and hear her children laughing once more. My choice to go was solely because I just needed to see Steph and breath in air that had was graced by mountains. It turned out though to be a wonderful experiment as far as how traveling, and the inevitable change it brings to my daily routine, would affect me physically and mentally.

I’ve already posted the events of what took place and my thoughts pre, during and after my trip. Now time for the epilogue; I lost weight. I won’t go into numbers, but in the two weeks that I went without a weight check I lost more weight than I am ever aware of having lost in that amount of time. When I first found out I felt like someone had yanked the solid concrete ground I stood on out from under me, I was shocked, and to be honest I still have a hard time believing it (and she doesn’t believe it at all).

Despite what I had just learned, adding extra food still felt more daunting than being told I’d have to run a marathon with an iron anchor strapped to my back and a ball and chain wrapped round both anchors. I managed to have a couple extra spoonfuls of peanut butter with my night snack (seriously, thank you God for providing this world with peanut butter). I tried really hard to let myself sit more and move less, and I was slightly successful. There were quite a few nights my legs were worn out to the point of pain and they just couldn’t bear my weight any longer. But of course, the fact that my body hurt like that was just one more sign that I wasn’t healthy. On Friday the number on the scale didn’t change, I hadn’t lost more but I hadn’t gained either. When I got that message from my therapist I told her I would try really hard to make sure that next time there would be weight gain. It had to be done, I knew, and I was motivated to see it happen.

But of course the motivation is always strongest on that first day. Saturday I got lucky and felt pretty good about my plan too. It was my birthday and I had lobster for dinner, gelato for the first time in months and a chocolate chip cookie with peanut butter on top for my “cake”. It was delicious, and I proved to her that the world didn’t end with my eating those dangerous foods. She kept quiet that night, let me have my way, but only because she was gearing up for a fresh attack Sunday.

This past week the invisible impression left by the echo of a thousand footsteps on the path between my kitchen counter to my fridge has become deeper as I’ve listened to her voice and gone back to the fridge to grab the smaller apple and the snack that’s the lesser calorie option, only to turn right back around to pick back up that bigger piece of fruit and the snack I’d originally chose, fighting back with my own voice and strength because I know I need to gain weight and to do that means I have to eat more food.

In addition to my extra peanut butter, I’ve added another snack to my day. In attempt for a little more variety in my snack choices I actually bought some fear foods that definitely cause an uptick in my blood pressure when I eat then (whole wheat english muffins, yikes!). I know that fear is a good thing, choosing to have them despite her outrage merely adds more fuel to my fire to fight her.

I wasn't always been successful. There were bites of oatmeal uneaten, a day a few almonds went untouched, and on some of those many trips to and from the fridge it was the smallest apple chosen.

An extra wrench was added to it all when I came down with a sore throat Tuesday that refused to abate, if anything got worse, as the week progressed. Up until then I had felt physically healthier, more energetic, imbued with greater strength. Sadly that went away on Tuesday; since that night my energy has waned dramatically.

I have tried so hard to listen to what my body was telling me. I did sit more, but she just about killed me for it. I woke up Thursday really wanting to work out (and it wasn't just her either), but I knew doing so was not the right way to take care of my body. So I had coffee and went back to bed for 40 minutes. Definitely the best choice but she made me feel cheated all day. I still walked though, as much as I normally do each day, and I know that likely did more harm than good.

Good and bad together, I thought I was holding my own. Apparently I wasn't. My weight did go down again this week. It was only a little amount, tiny really, but taking into account what's happened this past month even a little is scary. So it's back to the Ensure again. I stopped at the store right after work on Friday to pick some up. I got home and drank one right away, and they will be a daily part of my intake from now, possibly until I leave for Norway.

 This morning I woke up to find my sore throat progressed into a full on cold with my head and thoughts full of fog. Yet even in the throes of a cold, she isn't giving me a break. If anything I have to fight extra hard First thing I did was drink my Ensure, definitely a win for me. I was scheduled to volunteer at the humane society and strongly flirted with the idea of not going, to just stay home and rest, but partly because I felt bad at not keeping to my commitment to volunteer and partly because of her, I rallied and went. I think I'll call that one a draw. Later at home, after a shower and food, she did everything in her power to force me to go out walking, filling my mind with the truth of what a lazy failure I'd be otherwise. Instead, I was kind to myself, I walked over to my big blue lounge chair and took a nap. It's been hours since I woke and I'm still suffering from her unceasing insults and put downs. Eating the rest of today is going to be especially difficult because of this; I will do it though.

Despite what difficulties this next week may bring, I have a goal that I will make sure I meet. Actually I have two, the first a requirement for the second one to be possible. First, I will gain weight this week, because (and here's the second) I am determined to go to Norway healthy, and come back healthy. Maybe because the reality of Norway is coming ever closer, or perhaps it is simply that I have entered a new stage in the fight for recovery, but this fight I am on has a new taste to it.

Before, in earlier months, it was almost like I was walking barefoot over burning coals while trying to dodge the bolts of acid lightning falling all around me, and never a second of peace. Now it’s more like a long, seemingly endless trek through the driest desert imaginable. A place where I’m being taunted each mile by the sight of an oasis promising the most restful shade, coldest water and total beauty. Each one I pass is more perfectly exquisite than the one before it, only I know that theirs is a lying promise, that holds only fatal poison. So I go on, thirsty, exhausted past comprehension and with only the thread of a hope that a real oasis, one full of true peace, rest, and comfort is somewhere ahead of me.

But I guess this change in the tenor of my fight adds a little more to that small hope. The raw pain has faded into something new, something slightly more bearable. I also know that the moments I feel the desire to give up, to go back to that empty shadowed life where she ran free, happen less and less. That is a gift greater than gold, and one that will lift me through future challenges and into the horizon of full recovery.

Poem

This morning I decided I was going to take the Word of the Day and find it's place within a poem. Here is the result... 

 

 

 Dancing on tiptoe between unreality and dreams

I walk through a world that is not what it seems

On the surface there's love, light, laughter, sweet jubilee

But no one escapes Night's dark reverie

Where thoughts storm like hunger, and fear grips you whole

Your worries and secrets shine then shatter with cold

There are words left unspoken, silent whispers in the air

Emotions so hidden, you're left wondering who cares

So I seek out the fairies, chase after the elves

Get lost in the glittering flight of their spells

And wrapped in an emerald dragon's wings,

I once more dance between unreality and dreams

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Change, Adventure, Dreams - it's time

"There is something at work in my soul which I do not understand...there is a love for the marvellous, a belief in the marvellous, intertwined in all my projects, which hurries me out of the common pathways of men, even to the wild sea and unvisited regions I am about to explore."

Each of us, I think, have parts of the world that speak to a place in our souls we didn’t know existed, that call us to them with a pull stronger than gravity. The places are different for everyone, and some dream of the whole world that way, whiles others desire only once small spot. For me personally, there’s Alaska, Big Bend, Antarctica, the United Kingdom, Europe, and Norway.

I really don't quite understand my fascination with Norway, nor do I know just how it began. I remember taking half a year of Norwegian when I was in 7th grade and loving it, but it didn't really go anywhere afterwards and apart from a few lingering words in the language I kind of forgot about it. I think that year a small seed must have been planted, one that quietly kept growing, stubbornly refusing to die, and one morning I woke up to find it had fully blossomed, filling me with the knowledge that one day I wanted to live there. Now don’t get too excited, this isn’t an announcement that I’m moving across the ocean. But I am going for a visit.

Many years ago, a wonderful friend recommended me for a housesitting job to clients at our local vet clinic. It was a completely new experience for me, but learned quickly it was something I truly enjoyed.  As the years passed I was lucky enough to have many more opportunities, and was sad to say goodbye to my favorite clients when I left Alaska. Well, one of those clients left Alaska as well, only they moved to Norway and, thanks again to the suggestion of that same wonderful friend as before, they have asked me to come housesit for a month. Their offer included a free plane ticket, a free place to stay (obviously since I’m housesitting), their car to drive, and a kitchen stocked with food. Most people only dream for something like this to happen, very very few actually get it handed to them, there was just no way I could turn it down. I knew saying yes would mean giving up my job, but honestly it wasn’t that difficult of a decision. I handed in my official letter of resignation on Tuesday without an ounce of doubt, a surety and confidence that's only grown each day since.

Don't get me wrong, I am very nervous about being unemployed. I’ll still have rent to pay, student loans, and all the other miscellaneous bills that come with being an adult. But if I go through life making choices based solely on fear of how I’ll pay bills then I know I will wake up 20-30 years from now to a life that hasn’t truly been lived. And isn't that kind of what life's about - to seek out the tumbling dance of your dreams and laugh at fear if it tries to stop you? I hope that when I get back in August I will be able to find something that will at least pay the bills while I figure out what my next steps are (and for my Maine friends if you know of anything please let me know!). I would like to be able to stay in Maine until at least October, fall season in Maine truly is spectacular, but from there who knows. Maybe I’ll look for another more permanent job in Maine, maybe I’ll move to Utah, maybe somewhere else in the US is waiting for me to discover it's promise of adventure, or maybe I’ll luck into some kind of job in Norway and move there (I would do that in a heartbeat!). What I do know, is that I have a lot of soul searching to do. I'm ready for that though. It's been too long since I've left everything completely up to chance, so accustomed I've grown to my normal habits and routine, pulling it on each day like a comfortable old sweater. It's time for me to take that off for good, to say hello to the unknown.

One of my favorite quotes comes from the beloved hobbit Bilbo Baggins. At the beginning of Fellowship of the Rings he writes “It is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life”. The truth of this is absolute. To live a life full of simplicity is one of the richest gifts a person can bestow upon themselves and one of the surest ways to experience deep joy and love for all that surrounds them. But even Bilbo stared down a dragon. He risked leaving behind all the comforts of home forever to discover his true self, and as a result learned what mattered most and found peace with who he was. I think that is something we all owe it to ourselves to do. So I’m off, to find my dragon.

Traveling with Anorexia

Tuesday, May 19, 2015
A week from now I will be in Utah, spending my days laughing and exploring with my best friend and her kids. Her kids have no idea I'm coming, neither does she as my trip is a surprise for her birthday. I am so excited. It's been too long since I've been out west, since I've seen real mountains, since I've heard her kids laugh and spent an evening comfortable in the chaos that comes with a 8 person household. She on the other hand has been freaking out ever since I bought the ticket. She knows that this trip is going to completely upend the daily routine and schedule we've come to a tenuous agreement on. The times I normally eat will change, my go-to food choices might not be available. There will be moments where I will be faced with foods she still has not let me touch. My daily walks might not happen, exercise might be removed as an option. I might gain weight, and this to her is completely unacceptable. This trip will be good for me in so many ways, but chief among them is that this is a completely unmarked battleground, and entirely new fight that I am determined to not let her win.

~*~*~*~

Thursday, May 28, 2015
I am now more than halfway through my week in Utah. It has been fun and wonderful, and I so love the days I've shared with my best friend, and hearing her children's laughter again. But it definitely hasn't been smooth sailing. Before leaving Maine, my therapist and I discussed this trip and how to handle it. We had a greed that on my flying days I didn't necessarily half to eat everything I normally would, because pre-anorexia I never ate much while flying. The whole event of being stuck sitting in planes and breathing airport air was uncomfortable enough and eating would just make me feel worse.

When I left for the airport Saturday morning, I did so not planning on eating much but with a bag full of fruit, almonds, granola bars and turkey jerky just in case. I didn't feel like I was skipping or giving in to her demands that day because I had discussed my plans with another person, one whose mind was not clouded by eating disordered thoughts, and had their ok. As a result the day didn't quite seem real. It was almost liked I'd stepped out of my life and rules, and was instead in some floating otherworld. 

My days in Utah up to now though have been a hard crash back to my reality. I'd thought that if I woke up each morning and walked the amount of time I normally do each day in Maine than I would be able to eat meals and snacks without issue. On some days that has been somewhat the case, but in truth each day has ranged from gravel roads to jagged mountain peaks in terms of staying on course. Since being here I've done a lot more sitting than usual, and once more it's messed with my mind and my power over her. There are meals I've left things out of, my mind has been racing with thoughts of food and exercise. Some nights it's gotten so bad that I wake up with food being the first conscious thought I have. That really scares me.

On my morning walk today I did a little running. That isn't necessarily a bad thing, but I knew that my next steps and actions were would determine if I was going to slip backwards. I went home and told Steph. I told her I would make up for the running this morning (and I did) and that if we did any other exercise today she would need to ask me tonight if I'd eaten extra. I said that we also needed to go get pedicures so that I could fight her rules on sitting down by doing something truly enjoyable, relaxing and kind to myself.

I feel stronger tonight. Tomorrow I hope to let myself fight back even more. I want my last night to truly just be me and Steph with no disordered voices getting in the way. I hope I can make that happen.

~*~*~*~

Tuesday June 2, 2015
I’ve been home for two days now. The flight back from Utah was tougher for several reasons. One of course, was that the vacation was over and I was getting further away from my best friend by the second without knowing the next time I’d see her. But food wise it was harder as well. I didn’t eat everything that day, and part of it was because I legitimately wasn’t hungry (airports and planes really zap away any appetite I may have), but there was a larger element of her influence as well. I felt less like I was living out of my life for a day, and more like I was giving into her demands by not eating. I have though,managed to slide back into my normal routine fairly easily.

Without doubt last Wednesday and Thursday were my worst days of that trip. I loved being there, and those days were filled with fun, girl times, family events and lots of laughter, but I also really struggled with what the constant flood of putdowns, insults and self-doubt swirling around in my mind. I woke up on Friday determined to not let her turn an adventure with my best friend into a failure of my strength.I'm pretty sure I was successful.

Early in my trip, at a grocery store one night, we found a bottle of Diet Coke that had her name on it. Steph suggested that we get it, and for a little therapy have me throw it up on the air and watch it explode on the pavement outside. On my last night that is exactly what we did, behind her house in the church parking lot with her kids watching (they loved it although they didn’t quite get the significance or meaning the moment held). It felt amazing to fling her away from me, to watch the bottle crash and its contents slowly disappear into the ground. Afterwards we curled up in her living room and watched Stardust and ate dinner. My meal was a combination of scary and not-so-scary options and like every meal I’ve had for the last almost two years, there was an element of fear associated with each bite. But there was also a small feeling of carefree abandon that I haven’t felt in I can’t even remember how long.

I can't possibly describe the rush of freedom and joy that overwhelmed me when I realized what has happened. It was powerful and strong and I feel like that moment was a huge step forward in my path to recovery. Almost like my path before had been a maze with impossibly high walls, but now they've been cut in half and I can just see over the tops and the beautiful life waiting for me once I find the route outside.

I'm very grateful that this happened, because since I've been home something has happened that will set in motion a lot of very big changes for me in the coming months. I'll share what that is soon but for now I'll just say I believe in the end that good things will come from this. There is however quite a bit of risk and not knowing involved, and yesterday in particular I was hit with a tsunami of fear that held the promise of failure. She told me that I needed to skip eating because of it, and before last Friday have. Instead I managed to turn her demands in to a background buzz and did what I knew was the right thing for me.

It is interesting to read what I wrote two weeks ago, last Thursday, and today. I'm not sure if the changes are noticable to others but I certainly see them. Of course, I can also remember the emotions I felt then, and I know what I feel now. I'm sick of it, sick of her. Bored with the constant threats, demands and fears she floods my mind with daily. I want more carefree happiness, and I want more memories with friends that don't have the worlds worst third wheel tagging along. I still have quite a long gravely, mountain path to traverse, but I think that last week I covered more miles than I ever could have imagined. Of course it helped to have my best partner in crime by side.