Bumps

Today was another hard day.

This morning I attended Stake Conference and really felt inspired by something a speaker said. It was somewhere along the lines of reading your scriptures and praying daily better protects you from sin or temptation.

I tried it, and my afternoon initially went fairly well. I started to fall apart as I became stressed out about studying for a big test I'm taking in a few days. I had forgotten what I had just barely learned.

I binged big time. I took food from my storage room like peanut butter, jam and cookie mix. I ate them. I feel sick.

I think I can handle tomorrow now though. I know what to look out for. Plus, I'm going to be really busy with work, studying, and helping my brother with his homework.

I know I can do this. I stopped bingeing and having pop for an entire two weeks before falling back into a slump. I think exercising and drawing help me manage my depression, while chewing gum and staying downstairs helps me resist cravings.

I think I'm going to set a time limit on how long I have to chew a piece of gum or stay downstairs. That might help me manage my mealtimes and snacks.

I just wish my family was around more for meals. I think it would help me a lot to have people to eat with and to peer pressure me out of overeating.

I also think that I need to stop holding on to the past. The past three days I've struggled with depression, and bitter feelings towards my mom.

As corny as this must sound, I've been finding inspiration in all sorts of things lately. Tonight, for example, I watched The Lion King on ABC Family. One part really stuck out to me:

Simba: I know what I have to do. But going back means I'll have to face my past. I've been running from it for so long.
[Rafiki hits Simba on the head with his stick]
Simba: Ow! Jeez, what was that for?
Rafiki: It doesn't matter. It's in the past.
Simba: Yeah, but it still hurts.
Rafiki: Oh yes, the past can hurt. But the from way I see it, you can either run from it, or... learn from it.
[swings his stick again at Simba, who ducks out of the way]
Rafiki: Ha. You see? So what are you going to do?

What am I going to do?

Try to follow these wise words, from a wise monkey.

Like Simba said:

I finally got some sense knocked into me. And I've got the bump to prove it.

The Perks of

"We accept the love we think we deserve."

I've always put myself down. I guess I haven't ever completely loved myself.
When I was younger, I would look at myself in the mirror and say,
"You have a good body, but an ugly face".

Now all I see is someone who isn't worthy of receiving anything from anyone.
Nothing about me is good.

I think that sometimes we also give ourselves the life we think we deserve, even if it isn't true. It's human nature to cut ourselves short. For some, it can be a crippling, and chronic disability.

I often wonder if I have depression. It seems like depression isn't a disease given to a select few. Everyone has it, but it manifests itself when we're at our lowest. When we want to fall into nothingness. When we want to forget our insignificance in the world.

Sometimes I can't help but get mad. I get upset that no one seems to understand me. No one seems to want or know how to help me. They criticized me in the past for being cautious, but now they yell at me for giving in.

What do you expect of me?

I get that two people who are drowning can't save each other. Ironically enough, they probably don't even notice the other person struggling beside them.

I just want to be happy again.
Truly, happy.

Was I happy before this happened?
Or was it just so different from what I was before that I accepted it as happiness?

I really do put on a good face for those around me.
I don't understand why society seems to expect everyone to be a certain way.
Not physically, but emotionally.
It's considered taboo to show up at school and actually tell people how you feel.
Or even to let it show on your face.

Guys always want girls that are just a smile.
I guess girls are the same way.
Who would ever want to help another person carry their baggage?

I probably should be more optimistic.
I probably should be a lot of things.

Well, what are you going to do about it?

Alyson Wonderland

I'm not really sure what happened today.

I guess part of my problem was that I stayed upstairs to help my brother with his homework when I should have gone to my room.

I definitely ate more than I should have. I ate a ton from 4:00pm-5:00pm. Then snacked on cheese until I had dinner at 6:00pm. Then I went to a church activity, came home, and ate more. Now I'm about to go to bed and I feel disgusting.

I know I'll just have to pick myself back up tomorrow, but I can't believe I let myself fall back into old habits. I also had two diet sodas today too.

Another broken goal.

I think I just gave up after I realized what I had done. I don't feel very well so I'm not going to exercise tonight either.

I feel fatter. Not just from the food, but I can tell I'm gaining weight.

My skin feels like the red snowsuit from "The Christmas Story".
Instead of padding, I have thick layers of fat.

I can't move very well, and I feel claustrophobic.
I waddle everywhere.
I'm truly uncomfortable in my own skin.

When I was younger, a girl in my neighborhood bullied me for some reason I can't remember. In reality,  she probably was trying to find some justice on behalf of her brother, but childish remarks are always thought the cruelest during childhood.

She would call me, "Alyson-Wonderland" every time she saw me. For years after, I hated Alice and her "wonder"land.

I've been reading "The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland" by Lewis Carroll for the past couple of days. I actually really like it. I love that Carroll was able to mock the false rationalism that makes up personal thought processes and find humor in the absurdity that we call musings. In a sense, he expresses the fact that we always believe ourselves to sound rather respectable when talking within heads, but in reality, our sense is often not very sensible. It's a book that makes you think about how you think.

A quote from the book reminds me of my situation.

" 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!"

"...I'll stay down here! It'll be no use their putting their heads down and saying 'Come up again, dear!' I shall only look up and say 'Who am I, then? Tell me that first, and if I like being that person, I'll come up: if not, I'll stay down here until I'm somebody else'--but oh dear!" cried Alice, with a sudden burst of tears, "I do wish they would put their heads down! I am so very tired of being all alone here!"

I used to think that I knew who I was, but this eating disorder has changed me.

Family and friends have tried to pull me out of my own "rabbit hole", but staying trapped with my thoughts is almost easier than facing reality. 

I wish I was my old self. I liked her, a lot. 

She was thin, fit, smart and witty. 

Fashionable, outgoing, confident, and flirty.

Boys liked her, and she liked herself.

But, I guess I'm going to stay down here with Alice until I become that somebody else again. 

I wish those around me would try and put their heads down too. 

It's always nice to have your struggles acknowledged.
To be asked if you're okay.

To have someone hear your silent tears. 

I am so tired of being all alone. 

 

Bitter Tears

I miss me.

Valentine

I want to be loved so badly.

I tried my hardest today to put on a face that wouldn't let anyone see my hopes and disappointments fighting behind my phony smiles. I tried to turn today into a joke by wearing an ugly sweater with hearts and a family of sheep stitched across it. Ironically enough, I stopped trying for one moment and someone saw how I really felt. Jokingly she said it was the saddest thing she had ever seen, and jokingly, I said that I was just tired.

I guess I am tired. Tired of feeling worthless.

I think everyone wants to be loved. To have someone else think about you, dream about you and want to protect you. Obviously I've never been a guy, so I have no idea how their minds work when they find a girl that they really love. I'd like to imagine that a typical guy would go out of his way to be around her, and put forth effort to make her feel the same way he feels about her. This might sound horrible, but should also be a little jealous of other people that interact with her...monopolize her.

I don't have anyone I love right now or even anyone I "like".
I do want to fall in love though, and have someone fall in love with me...more than anything.
Sometimes, so much that it hurts. Almost like that burn that comes after or during a workout.
After all, the heart is a muscle too...

I was a little disappointed when no one sent me a "singing" Valentine, smiled my way, or even said "Happy Valentine's" today. I don't want a sappy high school hormone fit, I want something lasting.

Ha. I guess everyone does.

I wonder what it feels like to be in love. What does a hug from a boyfriend feel like? Is dating awkward, and when does it become natural? How do you become boyfriend and girlfriend? Is kissing all that it's cutout to be? Does kissing matter?...How do you kiss? What does love feel like? How do you know what love is?

I heard today that Valentine's Day is in honor of a priest who allowed Catholic couples to marry in a time when the Pope prohibited it...why have I never heard that before? I wonder if we should focus on the commitment side of the holiday rather than the romance...

I can't decide if I hate, or respect J. Alfred Prufrock more now.
Is he a coward, or a heart-breaker?

Has anyone ever loved me?

As far as love goes, I try to engulf myself in imaginary worlds rather than reality.
Hmmm...I do the same thing when I try to escape depression...

I have a "I need a boyfriend" playlist on my Ipod. It's full of songs that comprise of men singing of sweet nothings.

I'm scared that the media has increased my expectations of love.

I want to be loved.
But I guess I have to learn to love myself first.

Brownies

I used to tell myself how unfair my situation in life was. How unfair it was that I had an eating disorder. How unfair that I fell from grace faster than I had risen to it.

Now that I look back, I think my behavior towards myself was more unfair than anything else.

I was a defeatist too often, and a bully to myself even more so. I constantly returned to my kitchen whenever I felt down, and binged too frequently to count.

I was my own worst enemy.

Today I had a small binge. I had been doing pretty well for the past week, and my resolve crumbled to resemble the crumbs that remained in the pan of brownies I attacked after school a few hours ago.

I am doing better, and I'm fairly optimistic about tomorrow.

I just don't know how many more too-small articles of clothing I can handle.

Grave Digging

                                                                  It always seems to be

                                       when I advance one step

                                                                                       I fall back two,
                                                                                                          stumbling                                                                        
                                                                                                                            into                                                                                       

                                                                                                                           my own grave.

Lost

I don't really have much to say right now, but I definitely am feeling emotional.
I wish I was thinner. I wish that I could just say no. I wish I could find myself again.

Yesterday I spent the entire day sleeping and it felt nice to escape the world. Granted, I am a little PMS-y right now, but everything just seems so overwhelming at the moment.

Lately my depression has started to surface in my interactions with others. I don't really have much control over who I am anymore.

I don't know.
But I do care.

Anything

I would give anything to get rid of this eating disorder.
Ironically enough, I can seem to give up food.

Today was a bad day. I binged big time. I purged too.

I don't know what to do anymore. I feel like this shouldn't be as hard as it is.
I'm disappointed in myself for failing over, and over again.

I'm scared that one day I'm going to wake up and not recognize myself in the mirror. It's already starting.

I really have no idea where to turn, and I can't seem to find any silver linings.

Inversion

God will always give us brief moments of sunshine between life's blizzards.

View

Sometimes, we just want others to see us through our own eyes.

Evil

Normally I wouldn't expect going to the temple to be a stressful event.

Boy was I sure proven wrong.

I can't help but wonder if my temptations to binge, and stress were magnified because I was going to finish up some family names...and someone didn't want me to go.

Either way, I did binge.

But, why?

Truff-ble

One truffle, two
Three,

Why not four?

Banana slices,
Ovaltine.

Raspberry syrup
on blueberries, and
A carton of strawberries
With sugar
of course.

I forget,
Did I eat anything more?

It Hurts

I just want to be happy again.

I'm emotionally exhausted.

I was skinny once,
and
touched when told I was beautiful.

Now?

I have
Nothing.


Except fat to keep my heart warm.

Green

Envy, lust,
luxe, greed.

Disappointment,
and sorrow

Concerning purged dreams.

Did you know:

A half eaten box
of digested Lucky Charms
regurgitates


 Green?

Teen Troubles

I was flipping through the channels today and came across a show on Lifetime called, "Teen Trouble". On the show, Josh Shipp, a teen behavior expert, tries to help teens overcome their drug addictions, or harmful behaviors. The episode I happened to watch was about a girl in California named Ashley, and she was addicted to meth, heroine, and other substances.

When Josh met with her, he said that we all know that addictive behaviors are destructive, but at least they feel familiar to us. Change is scary. He then went on to say when Ashley changes, she is the hero. It's her life at stake, and when she turns it around, she is the one to be celebrated. She was fighting the hardest battle of her life.

As I heard Ashley talk about her experience with addiction, I couldn't help but hear myself in her voice. Although our addictions are totally different, the emotions, and motions are similar. She said that once she started using, she felt like her soul just left and everything just kept getting worse. She felt worthless, and that made her use more. Josh went on to say that once she realized her value she would naturally want to protect herself. From drugs, abuse, and self-defeating thoughts. 

From the moment I started watching the show, I couldn't help but think back to my first visit to the FUN clinic with my mom. Ashley's mom acted almost exactly as my mom did. I guess I've resented my mom for the longest time for how she has treated me, and thought of me since learning of my addiction. She was never adequate enough for what I thought were my needs, and ignorant of how she talked of me to others. She didn't understand anything. She always turned the conversation back to her needs rather than mine at clinic visits, it seemed selfish to me. Just like a few weeks ago when she told my therapist that the reason why I still binged was because individually I didn't follow through on things. I hated her for how she acted. 

After watching Ashley's mom, I realized now that my mom felt just as much a victim as I did. I also realize though why my mom upset me so much. Josh told her that because she felt like a victim she couldn't resist fighting back when Ashley "attacked", but she was just putting gas on a fire, making things worse. She needed to spend less time arguing with her, and more time helping her. To not rage, but to disengage. I can't tell you how many times I wished my mom would have done this.  I felt disappointed if she wasn't calm or collected when I had a mental breakdown, which often angered me even more. I was emotionally raw, why couldn't she realize that?

 I'm not trying to pin myself as her victim, but I think that my addiction victimized both of us. She felt like she was trying to save herself from drowning, but forgot that I was drowning next her (and vice-versa). Ashley's mom went on to say that she felt betrayed by her daughter, and was hurt. 

It's funny to watch Ashley as she reacted to the consequences of her actions, she went from enraged to humble in thirty minutes. The same would happen to me. But she did need space when she was "flipping out", and Josh said it perfectly, "the best thing you can do...is give them space". Heck, I can't tell you how many times I wished that my mom would just let me calm down on my own, let me get back to a rational level of thinking. 

Ashley said that she should be able to do anything to get her life back, herself back. I've thought the same thing so many times throughout the past two years. I guess I lost faith in myself and those around me. She also said that she used to try and keep her past life "private", she didn't want anyone to see what she had been doing, she would put up a wall so that no one could hurt her.  I've felt the exact same way. She struggled with the fact that her dad was distance physically, and I guess I've always struggled with my dad being distant emotionally. 

Ashley also relapsed, but she didn't give up. For a period of my life, I had given up after my first relapse. I still feel defeated whenever I fall back into old habits. I've relapsed four times, and each time is just as hard as the last. 

I'm not going to give up though...I hope.

What Will You Lose?

Today I overheard a commercial on my TV (it was for a weight-loss cereal) that said, "What will you gain, when you lose?"  I couldn't help but wonder, "What did I lose, when I gained?". 

A lot, I guess.

Setbacks.

Today I fell through again.

I did so well until after dinner when my mom left to run errands.

I just ignored my conscience and my motivations. I overate for around two hours. It was one of the nastiest feeling things I have ever done.

Why is it that I always fall apart right before I have one successful day?

I ended up feeling so sick that I purged after.
Oh the irony...

Another failure.

I can't decide what to do.

I feel like I'm failing God, and my Savior. I guess I don't have enough faith to abstain from these harmful habits. Do you think that an eating disorder counts as a sin? It goes against the Word of Wisdom....

I keep thinking I should fast, but what if my blood sugar goes low? What if I break it on accident?

It doesn't help either that my stomach has completely expanded so I think I'm starving ALL THE TIME.



I think my biggest problem tonight was that I allowed myself to say upstairs in the kitchen after I had eaten dinner. I should have gone downstairs, I even told myself that several times.


Some days I really just want to call it quits.

Emotional.

"It's hard enough having to live with you, and your Diabetes every day, Alyson!"

Thanks Mom.

I don't really know where to start as far as my emotions are going tonight. Tensions are definitely running high  here at home.

It annoys me that my family thinks that they understand me so well when they really don't. If they did understand me, they wouldn't over-react to some of the things I say. Half of the time, I have no idea what I'm even saying anyways. Most of the time though, they have have no idea what my intentions were behind what I said.

I guess its my fault that I feel this way. When I get frustrated, I do get upset. But let me just clarify that I get upset when I'm misunderstood, which usually results from being accused of something, or chastised for something I never meant to be offensive.

I usually say most of my conversations, and thoughts to myself. And no, I'm not crazy or schizophrenic, I just think to myself more than I talk to others. I guess it's because I trust myself more than anyone else. It's also safer to say something in my mind, than openly to others. I usually know where I'm coming from, and the reasoning behind what I want to say. This makes it hard for me to actually express myself adequately to those around me though. Often, the conversation I want to have is already over in my head, and I can't remember what I actually wanted to say to the other individual.

I just wish people would give me some slack. I try to do the same for those around me, and again, I do this in the privacy of my own head, which only complicates things even more due to the fact that I come across as ignorant at times. In reality though, I was already one step ahead of those around me.

I don't want to give a sob story about my life, or have a personal pity party, but I can't explain how hurt I feel whenever this happens. If people really knew me, and my character, they wouldn't say some of the things they do. Maybe if I understood myself better I wouldn't let myself get so upset.

I need to stop for a second to read a text my mom sent me about tonight.


She says that because she isn't agreeing with me it doesn't mean she doesn't care about my feelings. I appreciate that, but that wasn't the problem tonight. I didn't want her to agree with me, I wanted her to understand where I was coming from, probably more that anyone should need to. She also told me that I needed to apologize to my sister. I ALREADY DID THAT AN HOUR AGO MOM! I REALIZED THAT SHE WAS HURT WAY BEFORE YOU THOUGHT YOU NEEDED TO TELL ME. YOU SHOULD KNOW ME BY NOW. I WAS THE ONE THAT GOT HER TO APOLOGIZE TO YOU, AND THEN YOU CAME IN AND TOOK OUT YOUR REMAINING FRUSTRATIONS ON ME NOT EVEN KNOWING WHAT I HAD DONE, AND NOT EVEN GIVING ME THE CHANCE TO APOLOGIZE MYSELF. DO YOU EVEN KNOW ME??????!

I guess I'm still hurt by some of the things she said earlier. I understand that my blood sugar levels can control my temper, but I can't help it most of the time. I'm not an emotional wreck, I'm a human being. I'm not a walking disease. I have the right to my own emotions, even if their timing may be inopportune, or if they are enhanced by sugar levels.

You think it's hard living with me? Try living with a disease and an eating disorder at the same time.

Try having to live with yourself.

I don't know how to fix this gap between myself and my family. I know the responsibility is entirely on me, but how can you change someone's perception of you when they way they treat your personality is habitual?

I don't really know where I'm going with this, but I guess it's all out now.
I don't even talk to my mom about how I feel anymore. It's not worth it. This happens every time.

I get frustrated when she doesn't understand what I'm saying, and she gets upset when I say she doesn't understand me.

Seriously, this blog has become my lifeline.

Tempted.

Ah, another day of failures.

I did great up until the hour before my friend's birthday party. I had been holding myself back from snacking because his mom was going to make everyone dinner and snacks. I held my group fairly well, but then I just snapped. I can't explain what happened.

Again, I just think it was a lack of motivation and self-control. I've been trying my hardest to remind myself of the consequences of my actions both presently, and eternally. If I don't stop my compulsive eating, I won't be able to serve a mission at 19. I've often wondered if this is a weakness of mine that is only being brought to a new level of severity because of the adversary. I feel weird typing that up and saying it outside of the confines of my mind, but I can't explain just how strongly I know this to be true. I know that just like anyone else, I was meant for great things in my life. However, even though we all have many opportunities to achieve greatness, not everyone can reach it. I think temptation plays a major role in every failure in life.

Although I have great intentions to quit, and to reach my full potential, I just keep getting pulled back down by my actions. I know that I'm not the only one aware of the possibilities in my future, but I wish I was stronger. I've had several moments in my life where I had to stand for something. It was hard, but I wasn't swayed in the least to do things I knew to be wrong. I think I reached the hiatus of my spiritual strength when I was dieting and losing weight last year. We're taught that moderation in all things increases our connection with Heaven, and that when we discipline ourselves, it is easier to do what is right (hence the purpose of fasting). I was doing both of these things for a good 6 months of my life. During that time, I wasn't afraid to do what I knew to be right, I had a bright spiritual future. Now, with no discipline, and definitely no moderation in any aspect of my life, I've found it to be harder to not only hear the Holy Ghost, but to listen to Him as well.

I feel like Satan knows that this eating disorder is the key to my destruction. I've never been troubled by the fact that I have Diabetes, and I've always been able to rise above any cruelty shown to me.

But he knows as well as I do, that I have a terribly low self-esteem.

I think its great that I can realize all of these different aspects of my disorder. Sadly, I seem to forget my observations as quickly as they come.

I want to try to see my life in an eternal perspective, but its always easier said than done.

I want to receive the blessings that have been promised to me, I want to serve the Lord, I want to grow.

I want to repent.
I want to be happy.
I want to be healthy.

I want to be in control again.

Needless to say, today wasn't perfect. I fell apart, and gave in to the enticements of food.

Maybe tomorrow I'll remember these things.


Maybe not.

Food is like a drug. I can't stop thinking about it, and I have to have it when I know it's available.

I even dug through the garbage tonight to eat my mom's leftover Cafe Rio.

I'm disgusting.

Failing at Succeding

Where to begin with today's misadventures...

Well, I continue to impress myself with how frequently, and willingly, I seem to fail at living.

This is in no way a pity party, or a way to have anyone feel sorry for me, but I feel like lately I seem to succeed at failing, and fail at suceeding.

I did so well until an hour after dinner. Ultimately, I ended up eating about a 1/3 of a cereal box, plus a little extra on the side.

I didn't purge though.
I was definitely tempted, but I didn't.

I feel so fat right now. I mean, I feel fat all of the time, but having a stretched out stomach only makes it more of a reality rather than an ideology I hold concerning myself.

I wish I had something really upbeat to say right now, but frankly, I've got nothing.

I read a blog today that was definitely on the liberal side of writing. Although it was too extreme for my tastes, I couldn't help wanting to be like her. To be someone different, someone radical.

I saw something on Pinterest today that had a picture of some super fit legs with a caption that said, "Would you rather have french fries, or a gap between your thighs?"

Honestly, that little gap is one of the things I miss the most about the old me. I miss my friend, my role model.

I wish I had more confidence that I could make my past my future, but one can only fail so many times before losing hope.

I've decided that my "Nom De Plume" (more or less applicable to it's actual definition) is positivity. No one has no idea how painful my very existance has been lately. I don't even talk to my mom anymore. It just isn't worth it.

I don't know what to do with myself.

Crisis.

Whenever someone would state a misconception about me, I would always think to myself, "Do you have any idea who I am?!". Nowadays though, I find myself asking myself, "Who do I think I am?". 

Its obvious that this eating disorder, and weight gain have definitely impacted my personality, and my mentality as well. I'm not who I once was. 

I'm more cynical, more self-conscious; I don't care about how I look, and I put less thought into what I say. I've detached myself from things I used to hold dear. And quite frankly, I can't stand people anymore.

Its hard enough looking in the mirror to only find a stranger staring back at you, but its even harder not recognize what you consist of. 

Spiritually.
Mentally.
Socially.

I feel like I'm split between who I was, and who I'm allowing myself to become. Its almost borderline schizophrenic. 

I guess I'm trying to bring a dead person back to life in a sense, but that person is long gone. 

Sometimes I wonder if who I was, was really that great to start out with. Maybe I'm just idealizing her, and only remembering the best moments of my past. In my memories, every did seem brighter and gilded with gold. 

But gilded objects aren't truly gold, just the thin outer coating is.

I've already admitted that a year ago I was definitely proud, and more than a little harsh at times. I still carry those traits with me, but in different forms, and different levels of severity.

Can I move on? I seriously have no idea. All I want is some stability in my life.

Sugars.

Today, I fell asleep after school, and didn't wake up until 6:30pm.

My blood sugar levels went low during that time period, and I went to go get dinner to help raise my levels while also having a meal to keep me away from snacking.

Well, that plan failed.

Dinner wasn't ready, and with low blood sugar brain, I'm not the same person...neither is my reasoning.

I ate pineapple, chocolate milk, half a container of Cool Whip, some maple syrup, some pasta....and then finally soup for dinner.

Despite being full, I kept eating afterwards. I think part of the reason why this happened was that my will-power was definitely not being used to it's fullest measure, and I think it also was a result of my Mom not being home to give me a little peer pressure as far as staying away from the kitchen goes.

I'm frustrated that I failed again. I'll try again tomorrow, and test my blood sugar before I eat.

After bingeing, I felt like hiding in my downstairs bathroom to purge.

Luckily, I didn't.

Instead I finished up a drawing assignment for Sociology. I've noticed that drawing, music, and reading are the best ways for me to not only be distracted, but feel better about myself. I think I might set up an hour each day that I have to do one of these things....It probably won't happen, but at least I sound better by at least talking openly about the idea.


I should be fine tomorrow....
given that I don't doubt myself, and actually follow through on something for once.


Mom told me that I need to be more Christlike today... I feel like I'm always misunderstood. 

Mirrors, and Illusions

I've been thinking a lot lately about my how I see myself, and how others see me.

Personally, I've noticed that my self-esteem often depends on the mirror I'm looking through. I can remember thinking about this back in middle school. During that darkly awkward period of my life (which I think it is for pretty much anyone), I began to pick up on the impact that my reflection had on me while I was shopping for clothes. I found that in the "trendy" name-brand stores, their dressing rooms were my personal Hell. I conceived a notion eventually, that those businesses strategically planned everything about those stalls--from their width to their lighting, to play on your emotions as a shopper. I've often wondered if stores adjust the mirrors to cause consumers to look thinner than normal, or in some instances, slightly thicker. Giving a not so "fun-house" effect within the business. 

Lately, I've noticed that I feel my most comfortable looking at myself in my bedroom mirror. After thinking about this, I've decided it's because no one is watching. No one is there to critique me, and I have nothing to compare myself to.

The school tends to be the hardest though. 

Perhaps it's because while there I'm constantly being swarmed with petite girls who seem to have never been larger than a size 6. 

Perhaps it's because I'm my harshest critic when I feel uncomfortable. 

Perhaps I set my expectations too high, and my evaluation scores low. 

Or maybe, my reflection is warped by my own negativity...hmmm...I haven't thought of that one before...this writing this is a pretty good idea. My mind can just roam free without impacting anyone, but myself. 

Today as I was parking for work, I looked at my reflection in a window of an abandoned business. I was shocked to see that I actually didn't look that bad. My legs looked leaner, and I looked more idealistic. 

The same thing happened when we went out for dinner for my brother's birthday. I looked in a store window, and I looked thinner than I thought I was. Sure enough though, as soon as I strutted up to Kumon's glass doors, my hips expanded, my height shrunk, and my ego was again crushed.

Do you think that Alice would have seen the same Wonderland had she gone through a different looking glass?

Are all mirrors created equal? I honestly have no idea. However, I do have a hunch that our reflection often depends upon our angle, our distance, and the light that is being shed during that situation.

Sometimes I wish life was black and white. With no varying options aside from those already placed before us. No paths to wander, no pitfalls to encounter. A solution for every cause, and a single action that set off only one or two events rather than a landslide of consequences.

 A cake to grow larger, with an available solution, like a fan, to grow smaller once you realize how terribly uncomfortable you have become.

It always seems to be that when we find ourselves to be 3 inches just right, another person finds us to only be  a wretched 3 inches tall. What does it take for us to not allow outside forces to effect our own sense of worth? 

Do you think it would be harder to memorize every event in your future, or to forget every negative incident of your past?

Musings of a Sunday Night

Do most problems in life arise from expecting too much, or accepting too little of ourselves?

I feel like bingeing is often the forgotten, or unknown eating disorder. It's common in lives of many people, but often goes unrecognized, or undiagnosed.

Well, there isn't exactly a cure either.

Lately, whenever I meet someone new, I find myself wanting to shout, "I didn't always look like this! I actually was quite attractive, powerful, and popular for a year!"

I wonder if that is because my own insecurities need assurance, or as an act to safeguard my remaining pride...

One thing I did notice when I was smaller, was that with beauty (and a small pant-size) comes great power. It's understandable that Helen of Troy had so much influence over those around her due to her looks. Beauty is something that is feared, envied, respected, admired, coveted, and emulated...especially in the world of high school.

I'll admit that when I was a size four, I looked down on those who were larger (even by a little bit), or unhealthier than I was at the time. Now, I can't help but wonder if people think the same of me. I also fear the idea that people are glad that I gained back the weight, that I was defeated.

I never was intentionally rude to anyone, but I definitely was more than a little prideful. And honestly, I think I deserved to be. I worked hard to lose that weight, and wanted my moment in the sun more than anything else.

Now, I just want to hide in the shadows.

What are "acceptable" curves?

I understand that a big chest, and a big bum can go a long way, but what about the other curves? Like pot bellies, flabby arms, chin fat, and back rolls? What about the stretch marks, jiggles, and health problems that are also included?

I think it's funny that skinny individuals are often the ones that say we need to accept how our bodies look. They can say that because they literally don't have much to accept.Would those same women change places with another person who is morbidly obese, and still think that they are beautiful after dealing with the insecurities, and complications of everyday life?

 I think that there are definite body types in the world, but where is the line drawn between thick boned, and over-weight? Which one was genetic, and which was preventable? Personally, I think that if you have a protruding stomach, then something isn't natural (unless, that is, you're pregnant....). Should we be telling a 200 lbs. 10 year old girl to love her body when she clearly is not healthy for her age?

Do women often go through these feelings as their bodies change with age? Can I parallel my emotions, and experiences with theirs?

Gosh. I do not want to go Black Friday shopping this year. I'm just going to get depressed.

Plus, I have no clothes that hide my stomach anymore, and my pants barely fit me.

My stomach floods over the waistline.

I had a lot more that I wanted to say before I sat down to type this up, but I think it can wait for another time.

This was nice. Let's do this again sometime.
 

Faith...

Well, my week of purging has finally ended.

Hopefully I'll be able to keep out of that grave for good this time.

I can't help but get frustrated lately with how hard it is to quit. I thought that I was finally done with this eating disorder back in July, but I still can't accept just how wrong I actually was. I've gotten larger in the meantime, and it is physically strenuous to keep myself away from food. I'm doing better, but for how long? When will I completely snap again?

I'd like to think of myself as a thoroughly religious individual. I want to serve a mission in the near future, but that can only happen if I end this addiction. The scriptures talk of faith overcoming all trials, but my faith hasn't helped me at all lately. I feel that I have withdrawn myself from God again through my doubts. I guess that one can only face so many disappointments and failures before breaking down. I know that I'm a broken individual.

Today, things were better up until dinner. I controlled my eating, listened to my stomach, and successfully kept out of the kitchen. During dinner, I ate a regular amount--even leaving some of my unfinished meal on the plate, and then caving in to have a piece of cake with everyone else afterwards. However, as soon as everyone left the kitchen to socialize, I began to fall apart. I should have known better, but  I can't explain how hard it is to resist food that is left out after a meal. It's not that I went totally overboard with my eating, but I definitely ate more that I should have. Heck, I don't even remember what I ate. But I broke my own rules, and goals for the day.

All I want is to lose enough weight to be healthy, if not skinny. I don't even know how much I weight right now. I'm guessing that I'm bordering around 170 lbs. (more or less). Its depressing to think that I literally gained 50 pounds over about 6 months. I know I'm fat. I know I'm weak. I know that I should try harder.

But how?

Food makes me so happy. I guess that's the addiction talking.

I can't help feeling like a failure after all of my relapses. I just can't seem to stay resolved for long enough. Knowing myself, I'm a very impatient person. Often, I seek instant gratification on issues like this. When I chose to diet two years ago, I did the maximum calorie deficit possible in order to lose the weight fast. Now, if I don't see a physical change within two weeks of monitoring myself, I give up.

I think part of my problem deals with the fact that I haven't quite accepted the reality of my decisions. I still want to be that skinny girl I was a short year ago. It just happened so fast. I was robbed of my chance of being healthy for a change.

Because of this, my faith has began to dwindle.

I can't decide if this trial was something that I need to go through, or just a consequence of my actions, and those around me.

I know that this disorder has shaped my character for better, and for worse. But how much of it has been necessary?

Another part of me just wants to place the blame on those who have hurt me in the past. Although my emotions are more controlled now, I still feel a lot of contention towards my mother, my sisters, and those who I once called close friends. How different my life would have been had they acted differently in my life. And on the same note, my life would be drastically different had I chose to react differently to their actions.

I've noticed that often, trials cause us to drown in the waves, float above the surface, cling to a life-preserver or swim to the shore. In my case, I think I was floating for a while, but I distracted myself from surviving a few moments, and now I'm slowly sinking again.

The FUN clinic doesn't really help me anymore, and I don't think that this new therapist will either. Maybe it's my pride, but something keeps telling me I should be able to overcome this. I just can't for some reason.

I don't want to say that unseen forces are trying to hinder my actions, or that I can be healed completely by someone else acting on my behalf, but this whole experience has been a trial of my faith. I have faith that one day I will be healed, but I don't know how, or when it will happen. The bigger question is, why aren't changes happening now? Why can't I apply gospel teachings to my life to help me save it. Should I talk to my bishop? Do I need to go to a rehab center?

I'm going to try harder.

Purging

I need to post this. I can't hold it in any longer. 

Within the past week, I've started to purge again, but much worse than in the past. This time around, I'm actually throwing up, not just gagging myself by thrusting my index finger against my uvula. 

The bingeing has gotten worse too. Like worse than before. The past three days have been the darkest since this eating disorder matured last February. 

I just cant stop. I want to go to rehab more than anything in this world, but it wont ever happen. I guess I just want to separate myself from the real world for a while. I know I can make it without needing food when I'm not in close vicinity to a kitchen or food source, but being at home is like living in Hell. I don't want to talk to my mom about what has started to happen lately, she's never around anyway to help me when I need her most, and she just gets upset at me when I tell her that I'm struggling. She also isn't much help either. 

Please don't think that I hate my mother, because I don't. But I do hate talking to her about this. 

I can't handle this anymore. I truly cant. I've tried all that I can, but I'm never consistent. The urge is just too strong. And now, the urge to purge is getting stronger as its own separate addiction. It feels so...satisfying. 



I'm so done with everything.

Privacy.

I'm making my blog private....at least for a while. 

I guess its because I just want to express my inner-most thoughts with no restrictions, and without an audience. My mom once said during one of our therapy sessions that I couldn't ever say what was truly within my soul while she was there listening. 

And she was completely right. 

For that reason, I'm going to shut this public journal down. 

Thanks for listening, maybe you'll be able to tune in to my thoughts again in a season or two. 

I just need to write honestly, and I can't do that when I'm trying to avoid offending those who may read my writing. 

...not that anyone other than my family was even listening to start out with...

Progress Report.

I've been pretty vague lately on how my disorder control has been going. I figure that it'd be best if I just spilled the beans and made a promise to be completely honest with myself again. 

For June and July of this year, I was clean. No binges. No purges. August went well up until the second week of the month when I decided that I had enough control to diet again because I hadn't lost any weight yet (little did I know that my metabolism was practically frozen thanks to my later diagnosis of hypothyroidism). After a two weeks, I still didn't lose any weight and I became depressed again about my body. I began to binge, but not purge, again and that was fairly consistent until the last week of September. I visited the F.U.N. clinic downtown for the first time in way too long. They helped me get back on my knees rather than my feet, but it was a start in the right direction again. 

I want to go back a little bit and talk about my relapse. I guess it's a better way for me to understand myself while giving others an insight into my world.

Sunday dinners became one of the hardest things for me to handle. There were so many foods and desserts available--they became to hard to resist. My family had a hard time putting the food away after we were served, so I picked at everything throughout the night. My mom tries to hide things she makes, but I always find them; probably because I know something was made by judging what dishes end up in our sink and also because my mom isn't that great when it comes to hiding food. 

Talking to my Mom has started to become harder again. I feel like she gets mad when I ask her to move or throw away certain foods. I constantly feel like a disappointment to not only my family, but to myself as well. I don't really eat so much due to depression anymore, now it's a matter of will power. Which I lack.... big time. 

One of my new favorite binges consists of Special K berry cereal and milk chocolate chips. I still also have a hard time with anything sugary or ice-creamy. I don't binge after school anymore or in the morning, or even at lunch. I have the hardest time with the hour before dinner is ready and not being able to leave the kitchen for long enough after I eat my dinner. I actually binged tonight.

I was doing so well today up until I came home from a birthday party. My family had pizza for dinner with ice-cream and cake for dessert. I did fairly well, I probably at one scoop to many of ice-cream, but my Dad put it away for me so I wouldn't have to look at it anymore. I went to the party, I was full the whole time and didn't snack there. I came home and was full, but my biggest mistake was going straight into the kitchen and staying in there when my mom went downstairs to work on the computer. The whole thing is just embarrassing. 

I've actually been doing really great for the past week with my eating. General Conference really boosted my spirits back up again and I felt hope for my future. I fell apart again on Wednesday though. And Thursday. And Friday. And today. I can't express how upset I am right now. It's all my fault. I just can't understand what my problem is lately.

I feel like I've been able to handle and overcome every thing that has been thrown my way in life, but this. Why?

Why am I not as strong as I was a few months ago? Why can't I just stop? Why do I let this happen when I know its wrong? Why is this so hard for others to understand?




...I wish I could answer my own questions.

Dress-Sized.

I've noticed more so lately than I have ever before (probably because I'm not a size 4 anymore) how obsessed all girls are with their body sizes. No label seems hurt as much as a dress size. You could pretty much call a girl anything you want, except for a size larger than a 6.

I guess this first came to my realization last month during dress fittings for A Capella at school. It was ridiculous to watch and even worse to listen to what girls were saying about their bodies. It was seriously like a competition to see who was the smallest, who looked the best, or who lost the most weight in the last year. I understand that I was once that way too, and i'll admit that I still am at times. There is nothing that I want more than to be fit again, but there were some girls that forced themselves into sizes smaller than they were just so they could feel better about themselves. 

Having an eating disorder has really caused me to step back and look at the way that others view their bodies because I always have to deal with my own body insecurities that I've brought upon myself. To keep my thoughts brief, that was one of the worst days of school so far this year. It was just another reminder to me that I wasn't the cute petite girl that I was last year, and that others could see me for I was now, they noticed my body change just as much as I have. I had a friend (who I think was trying to be kind) ask me what size I was. I told her what size I thought I would be, and (embarrassed for me) she started to say how I  couldn't be that big and people that size are huge. Trust me, that felt like rubbing salt in a very fresh wound. She also happened to be a size "0" herself, so I don't think that she realizes just how hurtful comments like that are to someone of my size because she hasn't had an ounce of fat on her body in her life. 

Me and my closest friends at one of our high school
football games this summer.

It seems to be that those who have never had weight issues tend to be the most ignorant as far as body image goes. They don't mean to be hurtful, but they haven't ever felt the insecurities and depression that comes with excessive weight gain. I think they just say things without thinking or they try to help and end up making the situation worse.

I understand that everyone has things that they want to change about themselves, but weight is something you can never fully understand unless you have too much of it. Unless you feel the fat jiggle and reverberate as you move. Unless you experience not being able fit into any of your clothes and then having to give a majority of them away. Unless you experience the looks people give you.

 It's a terrible thing to have your body be your worst enemy.

The thing that hurt me the most about the dress fittings was the fact that so many of the girls had no idea what I personally have had to go through over the past few months. I'm not naturally the size that I am. It's because I let food take over my life and become my anti-depressant. They have no idea the role that diabetes plays in my weight gain either or the fact that hypothyroidism makes it so my metabolism doesn't even work. They don't know how steep of a hill I have to constantly climb. 

They have no idea just how poisonous their words can be.

I've been doing a little better the past week, but I've begun to relapse again over the past couple of days. Usually, its because I didn't test my blood sugar before eating and I ended up having high sugar levels, or I had to wait too long for a meal. 

All I want is to be who I see myself to be on the inside again. I see a stranger in the mirror, not the real me.

 I guess I just hope others can see past my exterior better than I can.