Stuck

For the longest time I felt like I was trapped within myself. Aside from having an eating disorder, this past year was really difficult for me. I lost friends, felt like I was being constantly kicked around and it also didn't help that I had a major chip on my shoulder against my relatives. Ultimately this all contributed to my meltdown in January. Sometimes I wonder where I would be at right now had things gone in a more "positive" direction, but I guess it doesn't really help much to dwell in the past or to think of what could have been when what matters most is the present.

My realtionship with my mom's side of the family was killing me. As I look back on it now, I was upset about things that I could never change or expect to be changed. I was sick of dealing with what I considered to be a compilation of cowardice, ignorance and plain old meaness. I won't deny that at times I was more than a little immature, but my actions were fueled by hurt and hatred. Emotionally, I was stuck...literally. My anger was eating away at me, I ensnared myself in my own trap. Along with my family issues, all of my energy was spent on negativity. I hated myself, the world, my "friends", my luck and my life. After a while, my thoughts look over my countenance. They were no longer inward feelings, but an appearance that I assumed gladly. I was upset and I wanted everyone-- and anyone-- to know how I felt.

My emotions definitely played a major part in the progression of my bingeing. Food became a medication. I used it to numb and express my frustration with those around me. My life continued on like this for months and then it just stopped. I don't know or remember what caused a change to happen in me, but I think my mind was sick of being angry all of the time. It was tiring.

I didn't really think much of what happened until I experienced the benefits and gratitude expressed because I let my anger go. The hurt never left, but the bitterness disappeared. I think my Laurel teacher, Sister Bennett explained my inner turmoil beautifully in a lesson she gave on Sunday. She was talking about her career as a psychologist and she stated that from all of the patients she helped, she noticed that "...emotions are meant to flow, not to stay stuck." When we let this happen, that's when we give ourselves the most grief and self-induced pain...like what I did to myself.

Special Olympics with Taylor.
My new positive attitude definitely shining through!

I've noticed that with my improved outlook on life my eaing has been able to improve too. In all honesty, I think that whenever we find turmoil in our lives, we need to resolve any turmoil within ourselves first; had I done this, life would have been much easier for me.

Better late than never!

Blessings and Nightmares

Lately, I've been doing great as far as eating regularly goes. I've gone to several camps and at each one, I've been able to control myself better than I ever thought I could. Even at my family's reunion I did a pretty good job when it came to portion sizes and snacking (and that's no small feat considering the role food plays in the lives of my relatives).

Overall I've finally started to make major long-term improvements! Personally, I think this started when my Dad gave me a Priesthood blessing before the first camp that I went to this summer. I had a meltdown the night before because I felt that I couldn't make any changes in my life or habits and I had a huge binge. I knew that my family couldn't afford to send me to in-patient treatment if we had to resort to that level of help. I felt defeated and afraid, but most of all I was angry with my parents for having inadequate finances to support me in a way that I felt was necessary at the time. The next morning before I left, my Dad gave me a blessing. It wasn't the first time he had done this for me, he had given me a blessing before, back when the disorder began, but it was a father's blessing rather than a blessing specifically for the sick. This time, however, he decided it was appropriate to give me a blessing for sick following this incident.

As I think back about the two blessings I received from my Dad, I can't help but realize that I wasn't the only one that changed during the past year. My parents view me and my struggles differently than they did originally. Now, my disorder isn't just a bad habit to them, it a serious illness (which it is) that not only effected me physically, but mentally as well.

After he blessed me, my life started to take major turns for the better. My self-esteem, though still very fragile, began to improve and as a result my cravings began to as well (whenever I became down on myself I would eat, creating a vicious, self defeating cycle).  I'm still amazed at how in control I am right now. Everyday I'd like to hope I improve. I realize my weaknesses more readily and am able to heal easier.  I have been able to control my actions and I've improved my relationship with food drastically. Along with that, I haven't binged in weeks. I seriously thought that I had no reason to be afraid anymore, that I had finally started to overcome my "demons". I guess I was a little too confident in myself.


Within the last month as things have been improving, I've been realizing that I still have fears resonating within myself that I've pushed to the back of my mind. I tried as hard as I could to push them aside and forget about them. But, I found out that no matter how hard we may try to think during the day, our minds really have no restrictions while we sleep. Some nights, I'll have a perfectly normal dream turn into a nightmare that involves bingeing. A few weeks ago I had one so realistic that I woke up crying. In that dream, I began to binge, but I couldn't stop. I had thought that I had started to get a grasp on my disorder (which I had in reality), but in my dream, it was a totally different playing field. In my dream, my family was yelling at me to stop and they were angry with my for being "weak". Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and I woke up sobbing.

The same thing happened last night too. I was dreaming and somehow in my dream, my Dad left a gallon of ice cream on our kitchen table (I've mentioned before the problem I used to have with it). For some reason I ended up in front of it with a spoon. I opened the container to have a taste, but with each taste, somehow I left some trace of my spoon on the surface of the ice cream. So, to cover up my eating I ate more and more of the ice cream with no avail. When I finally gave up, there was less than half of it left. My Dad walked back in the room and saw what I had done. He was upset. I woke up right after that and had a hard time falling asleep again.

I think both instances are a reflection of the doubt I have in myself. My biggest fear is relapse. It was so miserable back when I was in the middle of this disorder and I don't want to find myself back in that situation. No matter how good things continue to get, I know that this disorder never really is quite over. I am my enemy and it's not like I can escape the reality of being me. 

I don't want to end this entry depressed, so I'll share some good news! Yesterday, my friend T. had a surprise birthday party at the park near my house. I got there to find tables filled with all sorts of junk food goodies. I stayed strong and I only had three tootsie rolls, a bite a cookie and two chips. Impressive huh?!

Something else impressive!
 I passed both of my AP tests this year with two solid 5's!

Maybe I'm doing better than I thought. :)

Complications

So I know that this isn't the first time I've said this, but I did relapse a little today. BUT, today's near catastrophe wasn't necessarily due to my own choices or desires.

I have had high blood sugar practically all day. It started around 8:00a.m. and it has pretty much lasted throughout the entire day. I've tried to explain this concept before, but high blood sugar influences my appetite and even my mental state at times. Because of this, I usually either binge, have my blood sugar raise and binge more as a result OR I have high blood sugar and binge until I realize I have high blood sugar. However, today I knew I was high (and no, not on drugs) and I really tried to avoid the kitchen all together. Somehow, despite all of my efforts I still ended up eating half a serving of mini wheats, two cups of honey nut cheerios (with honey on top of it), banana bread with peanut butter, milk, cheese with pretzels and some frozen cool whip....so yes, I definitely binged. I did go to the bathroom after and I did try to purge, luckily I didn't get hardly anything out.

I'm not trying to use diabetes or my blood sugar as a passes for my actions (ultimately, I make the final decision to act on my cravings), but depression on top of whacked out sugar levels is almost like asking for a binge to happen.

This is all really hard to explain and probably even harder to understand if you haven't been severely addicted to anything in your life. I know I should just be able to walk away or stop eating, but it just isn't that simple. On top of the plethora of complications that an eating disorder readily provides, having a disease that has such a strong influence over so many aspects of your health makes recovery seem impossible. Gaining weight messed up my insulin ratios and I still haven't gotten a handle on it yet.

I'm hoping that withing the next month after seeing a psychiatrist and my endocrinologist I'll be able to at least attempt to get better control over my mental and physical health so I can finally make even more steps to permanent recovery.

Clinics, Confessions and Trips to the Library (Part 3/3)

Part 3- "Trips to the Library"
Ever since I've gotten a car, I tend to make a library run at least once or twice a week. It's turned into an escape for me from my house and my worries.

A few weeks ago, I was at the library searching for books on the library computer (that happened to have a modem speed of a Granny-wagon). After finding my books, I was became curious to see if the library system had any books on bingeing. Guess what I found?! At least ten and a few of them were at that time checked out. I decided to request to put one of them on hold so I could see if these "help" books really were accurate and helpful.

About a week later I went back to the library to return my old books and see if any of my holds had finally come in. To my surprise I found "The Binge Eating & Compulsive Overeating Workbook" (An Integrated Approach to Overcoming Disordered Eating) waiting for me!



I actually ordered this workbook off of Amazon so that I can
have a copy of my own.

When I got back home I decided to skim through it and see if it was even worth my time. After reading the first page I was seriously amazed! This book was incredibly accurate on just about every aspect of binge eating from the mental aspects to the physical consequences. They separate the disorder into reasonable causes and also give detailed plans on how you (or any individual) can overcome this challenge.

I'll admit that when I originally checked this workbook out I was more than a little skeptical. Now that I've read through most of the book, I can't say that I'm "cured" or that it made a drastic impact on my life, but it gave me tools that I can use to heal.

In the future I really want to write a book (or even publish this blog) to help benefit others with eating disorders. I want to take this negative experience in my life and allow it to become a positive motivator for others.

Eating disorders seem to be socially "taboo", but one day, I hope that through my efforts and those like Carolyn Coker Ross' (the author of the workbook) we can help publicize bingeing so that those who suffer from it not only realize that it is a disorder, but that they also aren't alone.

Proven Facts.

Yesterday seriously sucked.

Growing up, I remember whenever I would see a commercial for any depression medication I would scoff at the actor portrayals. I couldn't (and wouldn't) grasp the concept that an emotion could take over almost every aspect of an individual's life. Up until this last year, I thought that depression was something that could be controlled and those who didn't want to try to overcome their thoughts became "diagnosed" with an imaginary disorder. I still can't believe just how wrong I actually was.

Over the past few weeks my eating has drastically improved; however, my body hasn't. I still have the 30+ pounds that I gained over three months spread all around me. I have stretch marks, cellulite and flab in unwanted places. I've been forbidden from stepping on scales to see my weight.  Even if there have been any changes, I would have no idea if any weight has been lost or (my biggest fear) gained. Lately, my reflection has taken a toll on my self-esteem. I feel like a stranger in my own body. I was thinking about this earlier today and I've decided weight gain is comparable to losing a close friend-or in other words, my old body. Although you have distant memories of that person, you know that you won't ever be able to physically see them again. Instead that void has been filled with someone who will never quite measure up to that late-friend. Along with mirrors, I hate cameras.  I still have the image of who I once was in my head, but when I have to see how the world views me for who I really am, reality sets in and gives my confidence a beating. Facing the truth is always hard, especially when all you want is to believe a lie.

My mom, brother and I ran down to Provo yesterday to watch my niece and nephew while my oldest sister ran some much needed errands. It was fun to play with my nephew (not so much my niece) and we left to go back home after a few hours of  laughing, sleeping and temper tantrums. My mom had bought our family passes to go to Seven Peaks this summer, but we needed to stop at Trafalga to have photos (barf) taken for our identification cards on the way home. I've already touched on how much I hate pictures of myself, but I was already on the verge of a mental breakdown prior to our "Pass of All Passes" photo op.

My friends S. and K. had been planning to make a "Somewhere in Time" parody for week and yesterday was supposed to be the big day we shot it. Even though originally I was really excited to hangout with them, when the time came to leave I couldn't bring myself to going. On the way to Trafalga, I was overwhelmed by the thought of having to see myself in the state I'm in YouTube or Facebook. I began to cry as my mom was asking me about the video and what my plans were for the night. I told her I couldn't handle being filmed, I was extremely self-conscious and even a little embarrassed with the way I look. I guess when I originally agreed to make the parody I was thinking I was still my old, skinny self. I sent them a text saying I was stuck in Provo and wouldn't be able to make it (luckily it had already been cancelled about an hour before I had sent the message).

As I was standing in line waiting for my I.D. to be processed (after they had taken an extremely unattractive head shot of me), I couldn't stop thinking about all of the pictures that had been taken of me recently. Last weekend I had volunteered at Special Olympics through my high school. After the games were over we took group and individual pictures. I seriously looked terrible in each one.

I'm the one on the right. I really hate this picture, but I think it proved my point.

The night Special Olympics ended, I went to a party at a friend's house where, you guessed it, more pictures were taken. I think what made me the most upset about those photos was the fact that I thought I actually looked decent.

Definitely not how I thought I looked.
You can tell I've packed on more than a couple pounds.

Needless to say, yesterday I felt more than overwhelmed. Not only because I had to see how I looked, but that others had to see it too...on social networking websites and in person.

I came home feeling really depressed. I decided to lock myself in my bedroom and fall asleep so I could just forget about my emotions and every negative thought I was having. Eventually I had to wake up for dinner, but I still couldn't get out of the mental "rut" I had put myself in earlier.

I've started to notice that whenever I feel the worst about myself, my cravings to binge become even stronger than usual. It's a self-defeating coping skill. This is exactly what happened last night. I had my dinner and then snacked on anything else I could find for a couple hours after. I guess it wasn't as extreme as some of my past binges, but I definitely overate big time. The same thing happened on Monday of this week for the same reasons. It was brought on by some pictures I had to look through from Special Olympics. I was able to stop after a few minutes and it was around lunch so I counted it as a meal. Afterwards I distracted myself with chores and yard work to avoid getting depressed about bingeing too. Most people only consider certain foods as binge triggers, but I've found that emotions and thoughts hold even more power over me when it comes to eating.

When I realized what I was doing after dinner, I went downstairs to get away from the kitchen. Prior to yesterday and Monday, I had been binge and purge free for about three weeks. Thoughts about both had come and gone, but I didn't act upon them. Last night I felt disgusting, I even went as far as walking into the bathroom downstairs and debating on whether I should pretend to take a shower just so I could purge without anyone hearing me. For some reason or another, I decided to go into my Dad's office instead to check Facebook. Eventually, I ended up on YouTube because of a link one of my friends had posted.

Here's the video it led to:

Watching this led to about two solid hours of watching Julian Smth's videos. After and during, all of my thoughts were shifted. The more I laughed, the less focused I was on how depressed I felt. I know that in the past I've mentioned that "Laughter is the Best Medicine", and what happened yesterday totally supported my belief. I know that depression is going to follow me for the rest of my life, but maybe next time I feel overwhelmed, I can turn to my new best friend Julian to change my mood and my thoughts for the better.

Clinics, Confessions and Trips to the Library (Part 2/3)

Part Two- "Confessions"

Gym is normally the class that I dislike the most. Scratch that, I hate gym. From the noisy locker room, to wearing unflattering uniforms, to team sports (that you always happen to get picked last for), a lack of close friends to hang out with and the smelly body odor that lasts until the end of the school day, gym is definitely not a fun place to be. I guess I could ramble forever about my utter loathing of "physical education", but last week in gym class, I had a life changing experience. Now, I don't want to get ahead of myself, but if there is one lesson that I personally have had to relearn multiple times, it's that you can't judge a book by its cover.

Last year at this time, I was at EFY with my friend Kristen, it was a great
experience, but I haven't had a desire to go back since

It was the last day of gym and quite frankly, no one was there for class (who would want to be?). I happened to be there along with my friend J. and a girl named T.(who was more like an acquaintance than a friend). After doing absolutely nothing for the first half of class, the three of us decided to go to the locker room to get the rest of our things out of there so we wouldn't have to go after school and fight our way out of the crowded back parking lot. Since we were about three days away from being seniors, naturally scholarships, majors and college choices became the topic of discussion. J. asked me where I planned on going for college and I told her I was either going to Brigham Young University or the University of Utah. She asked me why and I went on to tell her about my plans to be an eating disorder specialist or psychologist for teen girls hopefully at Primary Children's Hospital. I had heard that Brigham Young University had a good psychology program, but the University of Utah had the best medical courses and students there often had access to their hospitals(including Primary Children's).

T. had walked up on us and she started to ask me questions about my planned career choice. I began to stumble over my words not wanting to give away the fact that I had an eating disorder and I wanted to help others overcome theirs. Eventually I was able to assemble slipshod responses to her questions, trying to stretch the truth as much as I could. After I was done, she told me that she was really proud of me for wanting to help girls with eating disorders and that she had been bulimic up until a year ago (this month was actually her one year anniversary of her official recovery but prior to that she had been bulimic for 1 1/2 years). I couldn't believe the courage  she must have had to come out and tell someone she barely even knew about her disorder (I think poor J. was a little creeped out), I could barely talk to doctors about my condition without crying! After listening to her, I confessed about why I really wanted to be an eating disorder specialist and that I too had a disorder, but with bingeing (this was the first time I had told anyone about what was going on besides my close family and doctors) I can't begin to explain how amazing it was to not only talk to someone who also had an eating disorder, but someone who had overcome it as well. We talked for a good twenty minutes and then separated for lunch. I was honestly in shock after our conversation. We pretty much had gone through the same motions despite the differences in our disorders. She had told me that it was hard for her family to accept that she did have a serious eating disorder (her Dad didn't even believe that there was anything wrong with her and that it was made up), that it was like a drug addiction, that only people who had gone through a similar experience could understand how she felt and that it seemed impossible to overcome. Eventually her parents found a counselor to help her recover through LDS Family Services and T. went on to tell me that she wouldn't have made it without her.

It was almost like a form of therapy to be able to talk to someone my age who actually understood what I was going through. She really helped strengthen my resolve to change and gave me hope to keep trying. After that discussion in the locker room, T. and I became instant friends. I think it was because we shared something so intimate that we were able to bond through it. I know I can count on her for support and hopefully she knows the same of me. I really admire all that she did and the fact that she overcame something so difficult. I guess in a sense she counts as one of my heroes.

A few days later we found each other at the yearbook stomp. She wrote in my yearbook that she was glad we "'discovered each other'", and I couldn't agree more.

J. pointed out that she would have never guessed either of us had eating disorders and I think that's how it is for most people, even those that are suffering from a disorder themselves. I think this supports the fact that you never know someones full story. Often we only accept what we want to see or what they have caused us to believe. I don't know if T. was inspired to speak up about her past when she did, but a day hasn't gone by that I haven't appreciated her tenacity since.

Clinics, Confessions and Trips to the Library (Part 1/3)

Part One-"Clinics"

I finally feel like my life has finally started to take a few turns for the better.
I guess it all started a few months ago with the end of my AP classes and the conclusion of soccer season. My dad had found a car for me and my friend drama was dying down. My mom also found an eating disorder clinic at Primary Children's Hospital and we were able to set an appointment for last week. I'm getting ahead of myself now, but literally, the past month has been a blur (in a good way).

My sister, Holly, took decided to take me to an LDS Family Services meeting for church members with eating disorders about two weeks ago. After having her check to see who was there, I chose to not attend because there would have been at least a ten year age gap between me and the other victims there; however, this was a huge step in the right direction. Not only did her kindness help me realize that I wasn't as alone as I thought I was, it helped me look at my life in a new light. In a sense, it prepared me for the change that would later take place within that same week. A few days later I attended my first of many clinic visits at Primary Children's.
I can't begin to tell you how wonderful that experience was. After my experience at Dr. Foster's office two months prior to this visit, I have to admit I was beyond skeptical. I guess I just didn't want to be disappointed again or have someone take my disorder lightly when it is something so serious.

We signed in and were immediately taken back to a patient room and was told to get put on a gown so I could be weighed accurately. They had me stand with my back to the digital screen so I couldn't see my weight, it wasn't hard to tell that they specialized in eating disorders after this. They obviously understood the sensitivity that eating disorder victims have towards viewing their weight. After we were met by a doctor, nutritionist and social worker/therapist. They were beyond helpful, they were my saviors. We spent the most time talking to my social worker (apparently we had set a "record" for the longest visit), she was so understanding. It felt nice to talk to someone who was experienced with what you were going through. She helped mediated between me and my mom along with giving excellent advice. Luckily, I was able to be honest with her. I told her about my purging, eating habits, emotions and pretty much anything else I could think of. It felt fantastic except for the moments I would look over at my mom and see the pain that would shoot across her face as she heard about things I had been keeping secret for months (purging, suicide, bingeing while she was gone). I could have never said the things that I said in that doctor's office to my mom alone. I needed someone else's support and expertise to soften the blow.

Later we met with the nutritionist and she definitely helped me adjust the way I viewed food. Now, don't confuse this with recovery, in fact, I'm no where close to that yet. Relapse will always be an all too eminent reality for the rest of my life and even more so in these vital following months. However, because of this changed mentality, my habits and thoughts are slowly starting to shift away from the extremes in which I have been living in. I'm finally gaining ground against the disorder that I allowed to define who I was for far too long.

 A few days ago I was talking to my Mom about the progress I had been able to make that I frankly wasn't capable of even fathoming prior to the clinic visit. After discussing this for a few minutes, I think she hit the reason why right on the head. I finally had hope. (I can't begin to express how liberating hope can be when deprived from its presence for a prolonged period of time.) I guess it felt like I was trapped in a small, uncomfortable concrete box that allowed no light in. Then after going to Primary Children's for the first time, the walls of that prison began to expand outward in every direction. Light broke in through cracks formed in the concrete cell I had built up around myself as its foundation began to crumble. (I'd like to imagine that one day the cracks would become so large as to cause the walls to crash down, never to form again.)I had room to not only stretch my legs, but to see glimpses of the world around me again, ending my self-induced solitary confinement.

Its been two weeks since my last clinic visit and also two weeks since my last binge or purge. Since then, I have been diagnosed with moderate depression and severe anxiety. Both can induce eating disorders to take place. I was advised to officially tell my immediate family about my disorder and that I would need their help to end this vicious cycle. When I decided to, I seriously wanted to cry I felt so relieved. I was terrified at first, but their support overwhelmed me. My therapist said that this is a family problem and that we're going to need everyone to come together in order for me to heal as an individual. After talking to them, I've decided she couldn't have been more right. My disorder is no longer something kept or talked about behind closed doors, but a topic that is openly (but still carefully) discussed. My Mom also has been doing some online researching and we discovered that Diabetics are more likely than "normal" individuals to gain eating disorders due to changing blood sugar levels and mental instabilities that can follow. Insulin (which is a steroid) can also promote weight gain in Diabetics due to excessive usage and the way the body may react to the substance (double-edged sword, anyone?). I guess this disorder wasn't just formed after one event or one flaw in my character. It was ultimately made up of seemingly small factors that ganged up to become one big problem. 

As recommended, my mom arranged an appointment for me to meet with a disorder psychiatrist at the end of July and I have my next clinic visit this Thursday. As much as I wish that medications and doctors could solve this dilemma for me, I know that my future is in my hands and based upon my resolve--not a bottle of anti-depressants. It's such a relief to finally feel like we're going about this the right way and I have educated professionals to support me. I feel alive again. I feel like I am gaining control. I'm starting to feel like myself again. I feel...happy.

My brother and nephew playing around while we were out
celebrating  Dad's 50th birthday, it's nice to finally
look outside of myself and notice moments like this again 

Swimming

I know I must sound stupid, but I applied for a job to be a life-guard this summer. I didn't realize just how insecure I was in a swimming suit until after I had gone through the interview process and it struck me that I would be in one all summer. That's not to mention the certification classes and training sessions too.

Because you have to be tested on your swimming ability before you take the class, my friend and I are going swimming today to practice for our pre-test today in a few minutes. Honestly, I do not want to go. I look like a beached whale. Last year when my family went to Hawaii on vacation, I had just lost the weight and I looked like I actually belonged on a beach. No so much now.

I seriously look terrible. My face has gotten chubbier, my rear literally is about to explode from the bottoms and I look like I belong on "16 and Pregnant" as far as my stomach is concerned.

I can't wait to lose weight again.

Today at school I gave a "mini-lesson" on descriptive writing. As a treat for my class I brought a box of cookies from the grocery store. As fate would have it, I had a ton of extras. I was literally fighting myself the entire class period to make sure I wouldn't embarrass myself in front of everyone by eating the rest of the cookies. In the end, I ended up eating at least two cookies, plus lunch. Not a very good day. This whole thing is getting ridiculous. I know I've said this a million times before, but binge eating is similar to a drug addiction. It goes along with the pleasure cycle. I can't even get away from it necessarily.



This is seriously a terrible picture, but I think it proves my point.
(I was the one in black)

I just hope this summer I can keep myself covered at the pool.
For everyone's well-being.

Arthur

Lately I've been feeling bitter. Especially towards those who are losing weight, while I keep packing on the pounds. After I lost 30 lbs. last year, I was so proud of myself. I swore I would never go back to being miserable and insecure. Whenever I would walk past a reflective surface, I would stop to check myself out. I looked good but I felt even better.

Now that I'm back to where I started, I can't help but feel depressed whenever I hear about someone elses success story. At first I feel proud of them for changing their lives (remembering how hard it was for me), then I realize I'm not who I once was. I'm pushed myself back while everyone around me seems to be shooting forward. It's frustrating. I watched this YouTube video earlier today and I ended up in a terrible mood after. I guess it must be because of all of the times I've tried to lose weight again and failed. Too many disappointments and too much hope lost. I'm not as optimistic as I once was.  I can't help but think I as watch this, "Now let's see you keep that weight off.", "You have a hard road ahead of you." "You probably gained back at least twenty pounds.".

I don't understand why this is so hard for me. Sure, my blood sugar warps this problem even more than other binge eaters, but I just can't get a handle on my cravings. Even thinking about my emotions makes me want to walk a few steps to my fridge and eat away my troubles. Eating seems to be the only thing that makes me happy anymore. I've been trying to have 100 sips of water whenever I feel a binge coming on, but I know by tomorrow I'll stop.

I hate myself.

I hate looking at myself.
I am disgusting.
"What you eat in private, shows in public."

Relapse

I binged today.
And yesterday.
And the day before.

Now let me say that they have progressively gotten smaller, but they do still happen. Today's binge wasn't small at all, it was almost like I went back to a few months ago. It was miserable. I almost missed hanging out with my friends because I woke up from a nap and started to binge. I had two bags of cookies, two glasses of milk, an ice cream sandwich, I finished a carton of creamsicle ice cream, four graham crackers, mini wheats, pretzels and more. My stomach killed after and I tried to purge. It didn't work and luckily I just wasn't desperate enough to keep trying today.

I left to go to my friends house to meet up with them so we could head over to the high school for a musical theatre show. When we got to the performance, I couldn't help but look at all of the different body types there. I found myself hating strangers and loathing everyone there for probably never knowing what it felt like to not have control of their bodies. I was jealous of those smaller than me and had flashbacks remembering what I once looked like. I don't blame anyone but myself for what I've become. That's probably why I get so frustrated, I was the one that wasted all of my hard work. I am my worst enemy.

Welcome, Welcome

So today I did do better than I thought I would...up until thirty minutes ago. I ate a reasonable breakfast and lunch, my snacking went a little over and I could have gone without the pudding popsicle I had after dinner.

Around 9:00pm I ate some cheese with coleslaw dressing, ice cream, pretzels, chocolate milk with chocolate graham crackers, Goldfish, jam with peanut butter, crackers with ranch and some frosted Wheaties. Luckily my dad was on the couch and woke up from his nap to ask where my mom was before I decided to have another cup of ice cream (at least it was low-fat and 100 calories per serving). My stomach kills right now, I really didn't do as bad as I have done in the past, but I wish I would have been strong enough to last the whole day. I didn't do as poorly as I had thought I would yesterday, but its going to be hard to get over this addiction.

So true! Josh Hutcherson is my dream boy!
Remember him being chubby a few years back? Turns out
he started to diet to get in shape for his new adult career.
I feel like he and I have a lot in common....

I've been trying to avoid a binge food of mine each day and I had been doing pretty well up until tonight.

Here of some of my biggest binge temptations that I've been trying to:
1- Graham crackers (chocolate, cinnamon, plain)
2- Peanut butter
3- Cheese
4- Ice cream
5- Maple syrup
6- Jam
7- Frosted mini-wheats
8- Mustard pretzels
.....and more.


I have another soccer game tomorrow so I hope that I can avoid bingeing after school like last week's little episode.

Here Comes the Binge

Today, my sister Holly was married to my new brother-in-law Christian S. They are too cute together! The reception was gorgeous (it was inspired by cute DIY ideas from Pinterest) and I loved being able to spend time with my siblings. I did pretty well up until the reception around 6:30pm. I monitored myself pretty well, but the event was catered by a gourmet doughnut shop....which practically doomed me from the moment I stepped into the venue. I guess I could have done worse than I did, but I ate about two-and-a-half doughnuts, more flavored popcorn than I should have (my biggest downfall of the night) and a huge piece of cake...plus fruit, vegetables, snacks and other finger foods along the way. I didn't necessarily binge, but I felt disgusting as the night drew to an end. I really need to learn to prevent these cravings and weaknesses of mine.

After the temple ceremony, we went to grab some lunch before the reception because we weren't planning on commuting across the valley for the entire day. I ordered a normal lunch, but I picked at my sibling's leftovers after I was done with my allotted serving ( I did manage to only eat half of my sandwich instead of the whole thing like I thought I would). Also at breakfast, I ate some spray whip cream and maple syrup (one of my favorite "snacks") which probably also wasn't very good either.

So I guess today was okay, but I wish I could have done better and been stronger. I justified my actions because it was a party and I should let myself have a little "fun" (it's pathetic how my fun has evolved from activity to eating...). I hope I didn't set myself back even further...I'm more than a little scared to see what tomorrow brings.

On a brighter note, my friends managed to make it up to the reception and we had a blast together. I'm pretty sure most of them came just for the free food (they were making plans to crash other weddings in the area after), but I was touched to see the few that came for me. I've noticed that the more I distract myself, like with friends or playing with my cute nephew, I tend to do better with my eating habits. Hopefully I'll be able to master this concept over the next few months as I try to lose the weight I've gained back. I realized that if I stay relatively strong for the next four months, I could lose at least 15 lbs and give myself a fantastic birthday present!



Riding the train Holly rented for the wedding
with my friends

Awkward moment on the train...yeah, we're pretty awesome

Congrats Holly and Christian!
Good try... me!

The Ugly Truth

So, I've decided that I tend to turn most of my posts into a poetic, metaphorical or flamboyant piece of writing. Sometimes I'm too extreme with my emotional spectrum, either unrealistically optimistic or annoyingly depressed. Now I finally realize that "pretty" words won't help me adequately paint a portrait of a binge eater; they probably won't help anyone else who is in a similar situation either (at the most, I think I've been getting a few eye-rolls instead). So my apologies go out to anyone who has been following me from the beginning of this experiment and please stick with me as I find my way around my own awkward writing process.


It's time for me to tell the truth  as ugly and uncomfortable as it may be.


For example:


Last Monday, I came home from school and had probably one of my biggest binges in few weeks. I had been fasting for the past three days in hopes of receiving revelation and a smaller appetite (probably not the best reasoning on my part). It became really hard to keep fasting due to my blood sugar spikes that dehydrated my body every time my levels went above 200 (I thought I would be okay fasting on a day I had a soccer game planned, unluckily for me it turned out to be 80 degrees outside when the game started and after attempting to run for a good 90 minutes, I ended up getting a major Charlie Horse in my right calve....it wasn't that good of an idea after all). By the time Monday came, I was pretty much spent. I came home and ate just about everything I could find. I had known that I had soccer practice at 4:00pm (I had gotten home at 2:45pm...I finished eating around 3:40pm) but I just couldn't stop myself. I remember thinking, "It's Mario's (my head-coach) day to run practice, the most we'll do is run a lap and shoot on goal for the rest of the time..so my eating won't really effect me, I'll get over however I sick I may feel now....".


To my horror, my friend Riley and I got to practice only to see cones lined up across the field and all of our teammates taking their shin guards off. Instead of our normal practice, Mario had decided to hold a "conditioning" practice  because we had run out of steam at our last game (the same one where my legs cramped up because I was fasting).


I was bloated, nauseated, frustrated and on the verge of tears. How would I be able to keep my food down? Why had I let this happen? What will my team think if they see me throw up? Could I go make myself throw up before my body chose to unexpectedly? My thoughts were in a million different places,  I must have looked like a hot mess. I decided to "cowboy" up and attempt the workouts with my team (we ended up sprinting for a full hour). My food was smashing around inside of me and my stomach felt like it was about to rip open with my next step I took. After the first twenty minutes, I couldn't handle it anymore. I ran to the closest bathroom to make myself vomit up whatever food hadn't been digested yet.


Ironically, I walked in to the building to find a little girl trying to figure out why the toilet wouldn't flush. She talked to me about her predicament and she eventually found a button the wall that you had to push to make the toilet flush. She washed her hands and kept talking to me for a good five minutes before she left. By then, I wasn't nearly as sick as I had been . Plus,  while she was with me, there was no way I could have purged with her in the room.

Going to Antelope Island last year with my family.
This was towards the middle of my dieting, I felt insecure then too.

After she had left, I did my business and decided to try to throw up before I left to go back on the field.


Now let me hurry and add in that this wasn't the first time I had been driven to such desperate measures. I've purged a few times, usually when my blood sugar has been out of control after bingeing. I'm not going to lie, I always feel better after.


I jammed my index finger down my throat, trying to coax my "snacks" back up. I ended up making some dry heaves and nearly choked on my finger. I had to get back, I didn't know how much time had gone by and I also didn't want to be thought of as a slacker. Disappointed,  I gave up and figured, if I was meant to throw up, at least it would be naturally now.

I tried to run back to the sideline, but the pain came back as quickly as it had left a few minutes before. I half walked, half jogged to my team. My fat sloshed around and my breaths were forced.  I ran a few ladders, but I lagged behind big time. I wasn't even close to running as fast as I usually could. It was embarrassing. Eventually, I decided to check my blood sugar to see if that was contributing to my difficulty with the exercises and to give me a believable excuse to take a short break. It (luckily) ended up being high so I was able to sit out for ten minutes to catch my breath and let my body digest whatever it could from earlier.

I made it through practice and I didn't have any other binging problems for the rest of the night. I guess you'd think I would have learned by now that bingeing and soccer don't mix. I guess next time I'll try to listen to my conscience a little better.

"Light Switch" Ludlow

My family has lived in our home for about 21 years, so it's no surprise that it's slowly falling apart and having technical issues.

In our smallest bathroom upstairs, the light switch never quite turns off anymore. If you push down quickly or with force,  the light will blink off and them burst back on again.
However, if you gently ease it down, the light dims and eventually shuts off as it should.

Call me crazy, but I feel like I'm exactly like that faulty light switch.

For months I tried to end my binge eating by abruptly stopping and making plans to go back on the same diet I started on a year earlier. Each time I did so, I hoped for immediate results and when they didn't come or I gave in to temptation easily, I snapped right back into my old habits with more force than before. I couldn't simply "turn off" my cravings like I was able to at one time in my life.

The broken light switch

Luckily I've learned my lesson and now I'm trying to take things a little slower.

I had to realize that I'm not who I once was. I'm broken and I don't function like I used to.
I've accepted that I'll probably binge occasionally for the rest of my life.
It's my responsibility to keep pushing myself and fail as many times as it takes until I can finally be in control again.

(I actually had one today which caused my blood sugar to reach 450 and stay there for few hours making it so I didn't feel up to hanging out with my friends tonight.)

I've resigned myself to taking this process slowly, pushing myself just enough for change to gradually happen. I can't keep forcing my "light switch" down hoping the light will turn off; even though I know I'm going about doing it the wrong way. Eventually, the switch will break leaving my "light" on forever.

And I can't afford to let that happen.

Bootylicious

I've always been surprised to hear men talk about how drawn they are to fat-bottomed girls. Having been one for the majority of my life, I personally find big bums to be a serious pain in the you-know-what (no pun intended). 

I've been told that the voluptuous size of my derriere is a result of the Harrison family curse (or blessing to those who don't suffer from this genetic mutation). Many of my relatives suffer from this disease of the gutes (although my sisters seem to have some kind of super-gene that has definitely protected them from it....so far). Because of this,  I have been well endowed with more than enough "junk" in my so called "trunk".
When I lost 30 pounds last year, I was so happy to have finally conquered my buttocks. My sister had even commented that they had become significantly smaller (after she awkwardly grabbed me from behind). As soon as I began to binge eat, all of my weight slowly migrated down past my hips to that dreaded area of my body.
I'm sure hundreds of girls can only wish to have those unwanted curves that I happen to have, but it's always embarrassing to realize that your rear end might possibly have its own gravitational pull and that others have to clear a path for you to get by in cramped spaces.
(Nothing is as uncomfortable as grazing a stranger in the hallway)
However, the embarrassment is always worse when someone else points out your flaws.


Last week at my team's first soccer game of the season, we had the privilege of playing a super classless team from Park City. Aside from the fact that one of their players started a fight on the field with one of our players, the entire team used offensive language as a tool to intimidate us throughout the game.
About halfway through the game, I was running towards the ball and heard footsteps beside me. As I turned to check out my competition, I heard the remark, "Move out of the way big a**!" Obviously, she was hoping I didn't hear what she said because when she turned around to double check, her face looked shocked when she noted my extremely offended reaction.

I'm not going to lie, it definitely was a major blow to my self-esteem.


I hate the saying "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me".
Why?

1. Bones heal, no biggie, you might have a scar or two but thats about it.
2. Harsh words never leave you and keep resurfacing for the rest of your life.

You decide, which is worse?

I feel like a more appropriate saying would be:
"Sticks and stones may break my bones (that will heal with medical attention), but your words will always hurt me"

Last soccer season
Note my incredibly small bum...
and  chiseled thighs.

I understand that she had no idea of my current situation or my already extreme insecurities about my body, I don't hold what she said against her at all (even though it was totally inappropriate to say that to anyone). I just can't get over the fact that I wasn't the only one that noticed my growing booty.
I couldn't help but wonder if anyone else had thought of what she was so bold to say.

My eating has been getting better and I've shrunk down my binges lately. I'm finally grasping the connection between my blood sugar levels and my cravings, preventing many binges that could have set me back even further. I feel like I'm fighting against a double edged sword sometimes. Diabetes complicates my recovery in more ways than I can even begin to explain.


A big bum is just a small part of my problem now. I have more important issues to tackle first (like that girl from Park City). I just hope that one day I'll finally be able to lift this family curse from myself...permanently.

Silence

"After a minute or two, silence would rush into the room from its hiding place because I had eaten up all of the sounds."

-Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

Back in the days when I felt like someone special,
not a pathetic mess.

I'll admit, some days I can't help but crumble.

Life can really stink. It can be depressing and dark. Sometimes, it can cause permanent frown lines.
( I already have a few by the corners of my mouth, age doesn't matter so beware!)

Yesterday morning I binged again (turns out I had high blood sugar, just another complication in this whole dilemma). Bringing on a day's worth of depression. Exercising helped me push my emotions aside, but my "tough, indifferent girl" facade cracked on the way home from a trip downtown with my Mom and brother. An ad about "quick and easy" weight loss came on the radio and a wave of anger crashed over me. I felt like I was drowning in emotions, mostly confusion and frustration.

Then came silence.

What else could I do?

My world just seemed to be closing in around me and claustrophobia kicked in. I chose to save my breath instead of wasting it. I went into survival mode.

Whenever I can't handle life, I shut down.  It's my escape.

Once I lock down, it's hard to come back to reality. I try to hide it, but I'm pretty much an open book (...or more so blog). If I try to come to, it's like trying to stand with a broken leg; it can't be done and it's extremely painful.  My family ends up suffering because of my emotions (or lack of) and when I do choose to speak, it's never positive or kind.

 Not only do I suck the sound out of a room, I take the joy with me when I leave.

I usually try channel my frustrations towards myself and how I look. I push myself down in hopes of making myself hate who I am just enough that permanent change will finally happen.


It never does.

I run to the fridge for relief as soon as I can't take it anymore. I listen to my stomach instead of talking to others. It feels like a punch to the gut....and my self-esteem.


Usually sleep is just about the only thing that can bring me out of my depression.

I guess it's like walking outside after it rains.
Everything is still wet and murky, but at least the storm has passed.

"Easy"ter

Happy Easter!
Hope you had a chance to indulge by having some peeps, Robin's Eggs, Reese's eggs, Cadbury creme eggs, jelly beans or even a chocolate bunny as we celebrate Easter Sunday.

(Luckily for me, my fabulous "Easter Bunny" brought me nail polish this year instead (: )

As much as I love egg hunts, candies in pastel wrappers, freakish rabbit costumes and old family traditions, I can't help but think of the spiritual significance behind Easter. As I've gotten older I've noticed how much I allowed a wall of colorful plastic eggs and decorated baskets to block my view of what really mattered during this sacred holiday.

The atonement and resurrection of our Savior, Jesus Christ, has had a profound influence upon my life. Recently, I've had personal revelation come into my life concerning Christ and his role in my existence. I feel as if I have grown closer to him throughout my struggles these past few months. When I was at my lowest, he was there to raise me back up. He was my support that no one else could be. He understood me like no one else could. He was patient (and still is) as I fell back into my old habits and began the repentance cycle over again. He gave me hope when I had none and forgave me for the pain that my mistakes inflicted upon him.

Jesus Christ died for all mankind to be saved.
He lived that he might understand our trials perfectly.
He lives now to help us that we might triumph over this world as He did.

Whenever I feel overwhelmed by my setbacks and future ahead of me, I know that I won't ever be alone with Him on my side. I know that trials will still come my way, but by accepting His gift of the atonement into my life, whatever I will go through will make them eaiser for me to endure.


Our Heavenly Father gave us the gift of life, but our Savior gave us the gift to live.

For more videos or information feel free to check out:
mormon.org
lds.org

Pork, Beans and Hot Dogs

Growing up in the 1960's and 1970's (mainly in rural Wyoming and small towns in Utah/Idaho) my Mom had quite the "unconventional" childhood.  I've always loved hearing her talk about her life (she probably regrets telling me a good majority of the things I've heard). As a result, I've tried to make an effort to stash each story into my mental filing cabinet for future use.

I fell like this next story might be a little abstract (I'm probably giving Picasso a run for his money), but bear with me, I promise it will all somewhat make sense in the end...hopefully...

High school sweethearts, Mom and Dad

My Grandma Kathy once read an article that stated mothers should try to give their families a variety of food items from one food group at every meal. A short time later, her family woke up to a breakfast smorgasbord of mixed proteins (hence the pork, beans and hot dogs post title). This was definitely not a traditional (or appetizing) American breakfast that consisted of classic meat staples such as bacon or sausage like the "Joneses" might have had.

Needless to say, my Mom still cringes at the combination whenever she recollects this "memorable" childhood experience.

I guess variety is a concept that I frequently abuse. I tend to eat a meal  and then graze around the rest of the kitchen "sampling" everything else along the way. This morning I had my typical breakfast of cereal, fruit, and milk. However, after I was officially done eating, I kept reaching into the box for more cereal. Then I progressed to having milk with the cereal, then maple syrup (don't even ask), more fruit, spaghetti (...), two leftover egg rolls from China Wok (with sweet n' sour sauce), half a brownie, graham crackers with chocolate chips, frozen bananas....and then I realized what I had just done to myself.  It was a breakfast that was probably comparable to the pork, bean and hot dog meal that my mother had to endure.

Both of which were not appealing or easy to keep down.

Originally, I thought I could do this and be satisfied by just having one bite of each thing I wanted to try and then go along my merry way as if nothing had ever happened.

 A word to the wise: It's never just one bite.
(Actually, I've heard that even for an extremely well-managed eater, it takes at least three bites to satisfy their cravings)

So why did I let this happen?
Well, there was definitely a degree of laziness and irresponsibility on my part. I let it happen and I didn't stop when I started to notice what I had allowed myself to do.

It felt like matter over mind, not mind over matter.

Stress also played a huge part in this fiasco too. I couldn't stop thinking about my homework I needed to finish, plus the areas of my house I needed to clean for our Easter dinner tomorrow and how to act on that double date tonight. I realize that these all must sound like ignorant justifications for my actions and they probably are. I know what I'm capable of doing and overcoming. The issue is that once I start with food, I seriously can't stop. The urge to eat consumes every fiber of my being once I let it in.

It's not that I don't comprehend the consequences of my actions or realize the end results; I actually realize them all too well. The nausea, the pain, the depression and disappointment. The high blood sugar readings and the lowered self-esteem. It's impossible to describe how well I know what I'm potentially getting myself into each time I sit down at a meal. It's terrifying.

Some days I feel like I'm only a step away from overcoming this disorder, that I've finally found my "cure"; but days like today always give me a harsh reality check. I again realize just how long of a road this is going to be.  I realize that only I can control what I do and don't eat.

It's been said that variety is the very spice of life.

My opinion?
Just make sure you don't treat it like an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Laughter is the Best Medicine

Friends.


If you had asked me about my own a few months ago I probably would have laughed straight in your face and given a (very sassy) reply along the lines of, "Friends? I don't have any!" or "Who needs friends? All of mine suck." (my poor Mom heard those responses on a daily basis for about a solid month this winter). I guess I never quite realized just how much of an impact spending even a few hours with good friends could have on my life.

Today B asked me to come to his house to help him finish painting some campaign posters for the SBO primary election this coming Tuesday. Being my normal, pessimistic self, I really had no desire to go to his house and be social with others. I thought that helping him would most likely "waste" my entire "precious" spring break Friday (yesterday I sat at home and watched Glee re-runs on my computer, alone....all day....in my pajamas....wait a second....well....this is awkward....).

Out of guilt I forced myself to make an appearance for at least an hour (I had remembered that I promised him on Monday that I would go over with a group of friends...it also didn't help that he called me three times in an hour making sure I would come) and then leave as soon as my "time was served" at his house (my eating had been decent up to that point of the day, but my cravings were creeping up and I thought that I could use a trip to Ben's as an excuse to avoid any unnecessary eating).

I walked into his house to find his living room stripped down to nothing (all of the furniture ended up pushed against the wall and somehow one of his couches ended up in his kitchen) and a huge butcher paper poster at least 8 feet x 10 feet sprawled across the floor along with seemingly toothpick sized paintbrushes to use. Later on, after I got home around 10:00pm, B called me to ask me on a double date and to thank me for helping him out with the poster. He also told me that when he saw my face after walking into his living room he could tell that I was thinking, "What have I gotten myself into?! This thing is going to take forever!" (that kid must be a psychic...I literally almost turned around and walked right back out the front door). It actually wasn't that bad once we started painting. E, and B's neighbor, Andrew, were there to "help" too (they spent the whole time coming up with a list of twenty things that were made in China for a second poster idea...included was  Ben's conception...) so the work wasn't really work at all (except for me and Ben). I honestly don't think I've laughed that hard in a really long time. I felt welcomed and wanted for who I was; I felt comfortable with myself for the first time in months, despite the fact that I could constantly feel my thighs smacking together as I moved around the poster.

Minutes turned into several hours. I couldn't believe it, but I had lasted five whole hours without obsessing over food or being "hungry". I did give in and have some chips that were set out for us, but,  I controlled myself  by only having a handful. I consumed myself with  work and friendly banter instead of calories and carbs.  I felt like I was on top of the world, scratch that, on top of my world.

"Ben Law Ride Dragon"
We wanted to put an asterisk at the bottomnext to a sentence that said:
"Sorry if you can't read through my accent"

This was as far as we could make ourselves go,
I know it sounds pathetic, but trust me, this was quite the
project...that background took for-ev-er, it felt like a
neverending blue nightmare. No joke.

We ended up running to China Wok for dinner (trust me, the name might sound like your typical, tacky Americanized Chinese food dive, but the food was incredible) and I ate until I was actually full, imagine that! It was almost like being in the Twilight Zone, it was mind blowing! We headed back to Ben's to watch a movie from Redbox and try to finish up as much work as we could before we called it a night.

Looking back, I can't imagine how my day would have gone had I chosen not to go be with my friends. After today, I know it wasn't a coincidence that my binge eating took off when it did. I was at my lowest, with no friends to distract me from my depression or to save me from it. Instead, they seemed to be causing it, in my twisted, hormone driven point of view.

I've learned that friends really can make or break you.
However, in my case tonight, they helped piece me back together.