Must... get... better... at... BLOGGING.
Must stop being hyper critical of myself. Must stop worrying about being judged.
I seriously have 4 or 5 posts in my drafts box from the last two weeks, because I'll start to write, then get nervous that I sound really stupid or am just not making sense... or that what I'm writing isn't important. I have a LOT that I've been wanting to blog about, I just end up feeling stupid when I sit down to write...
Anyways, I've had this realization that I've been meaning to write about/ponder. I don't think anyone likes being uncomfortable; but I absolute cannot stand it. I'm not talking about physical pain (which, ironically enough, I am very good at tolerating physical pain), but moreso emotional uncomfortableness.
What made me realize this is the fact that I do not feel comfortable in my body; I don't think I've ever felt comfortable in my body. The irrationalness has been thinking along the lines if you just get small enough, if you just get thin enough, you WILL feel comfortable in your body.
I became aware at age 4 that I was overweight, and that it was not desirable. I felt uncomfortable at age 4, in my body. Year after year, I thought that if I could get out of my pudgey little body and be a skinny, pretty little girl, I'd be happier and more confident, and that my classmates would like me. I was ashamed of being fat; I thought I was ugly. I was teased a lot. I became shyer and shyer, more introverted, because I was teased. I was obese by 13; I'd spend hours in front of the mirror, pinching my fat rolls and thinking if only I were thin enough to feel good and confident in my body, life would be so much better. At age 15, things changed; in less than a year, I went from obese to underweight. The damage had already been done by this point...
...I spent such a little amount of time at an actual "healthy" weight that I never really got a good look at myself as to what healthy should be. It doesn't matter; even underweight, I have nasty reminders that continue to distort the image I see in the mirror.
I have stretch marks. EVERYWHERE. All over my stomach, my thighs, the inside of my arms, my chest... yeah. Everywhere. They're disgusting. They make me want to rip my skin off. I don't have a valid excuse; I'd wear stretch marks with pride if I could say that my skin stretched to accommodate a baby. But it didn't; some of these stretch marks appeared before I could even get pregnant. How freaking sad is that?
It's fucking torture to have to look in the mirror, to desperately want to see what everyone else apparently sees... but have it ruined by the fact that my body is laced in stretch marks, a constant reminder of how big I once was, and constantly distorting my body image...
How does that relate to me being uncomfortable? Because of how it's tricking me into thinking I'm still fat, when I'm obviously not.
It makes me laugh, in a macabre sort of way, that there's those thinspo groups out there promoting ED's as a way of life, saying that "once you're thin enough, you can wear skimpy clothing, ect." Ha... newsflash, people: it does NOT matter how fucking skinny you get, you're still going to feel like a fat ass. I use to fantasize about wearing tight/revealing clothing once I was "thin enough"... and still sometimes do. But the reality is, I hide my body. I'm thoroughly ashamed of it. I still think I'm too fat (despite knowing otherwise) to be wearing form fitting or revealing clothing. Heck, that's one reason I love cold weather so much; it means I can hide in layers and hoodies.
Bottom line is, I still feel very uncomfortable in my body, and it makes me excessively anxious... hence me turning to manage it in some not so practical ways...
Showing posts with label body image. Show all posts
Showing posts with label body image. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
I Sure As Hell Didn't See That One Coming
Note!: If you are currently struggling with an eating disorder... this post may be triggering. I won't mention numbers exactly, but there is some triggering stuff. Just an FYI.
I am stunned.
I was totally caught off guard last night. Vuni went to his parent's house for a little while yesterday evening, and when he came back, I could tell he was upset. I asked him what was wrong, and he said, "My mom is really, really worried about you."
"Worried?... Why?"
"Because you're so skinny."
Ooof. Definitely didn't see that coming. At all.
And what really, really freaks me out is my thinking up until this point. I've mentioned in previous posts how my mother in law (Aren) and sis in law (Krisi) talk about dieting/exercise/weight loss around me all the freaking time, and how much it irks me. But I didn't exactly give the whole reason as to why; obviously, with my eating/body image issues, it's a sensitive topic to me anyways. Right. But the other thing, which I was afraid to admit... is I always worried that they talked about it excessively because they thought I maybe needed to lose weight. Maybe it was their subtle hints that I am too fat. Neither of them has ever commented on my weight/appearance... so it's always made me curious how they see me. Sadly, that very irrational part of my mind has always shouted, "Well, they think you're a fat ass, because you are one, duh."
So imagine my shock when, after all of this time irrational thoughts deluding my mind into thinking that they must see me as a blob, I hear that Aren is really worried about me being too thin.
It's things like this that make me realize just how utterly distorted my body image and irrational thoughts are. It terrifies me. How? How can I see a overweight, doughy body when everyone else sees the opposite? I just don't get it... and it's scaring the hell out of me.
I am stunned.
I was totally caught off guard last night. Vuni went to his parent's house for a little while yesterday evening, and when he came back, I could tell he was upset. I asked him what was wrong, and he said, "My mom is really, really worried about you."
"Worried?... Why?"
"Because you're so skinny."
Ooof. Definitely didn't see that coming. At all.
And what really, really freaks me out is my thinking up until this point. I've mentioned in previous posts how my mother in law (Aren) and sis in law (Krisi) talk about dieting/exercise/weight loss around me all the freaking time, and how much it irks me. But I didn't exactly give the whole reason as to why; obviously, with my eating/body image issues, it's a sensitive topic to me anyways. Right. But the other thing, which I was afraid to admit... is I always worried that they talked about it excessively because they thought I maybe needed to lose weight. Maybe it was their subtle hints that I am too fat. Neither of them has ever commented on my weight/appearance... so it's always made me curious how they see me. Sadly, that very irrational part of my mind has always shouted, "Well, they think you're a fat ass, because you are one, duh."
So imagine my shock when, after all of this time irrational thoughts deluding my mind into thinking that they must see me as a blob, I hear that Aren is really worried about me being too thin.
It's things like this that make me realize just how utterly distorted my body image and irrational thoughts are. It terrifies me. How? How can I see a overweight, doughy body when everyone else sees the opposite? I just don't get it... and it's scaring the hell out of me.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
"Yes, you do have a choice; you're just making the right one."
So, the past few days have basically been Hell-in-Em's-head.
Friday started out shitty; I had to give a presentation on a study I did with one of my professors (Ellie); the last official thing I had to do for school. I know I've already graduated, but I agreed to this presentation when I signed up for the study back in May. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong that morning, did; from realizing that the pages were numbered incorrectly in my report, to the printer not being friendly, to wardrobe crisis, to not finding a parking spot (and thus having to park in a 15 minutes max slot, and pray that I wouldn't get busted by a lot attendant)... add on the fact that I was nervous as all hell. But to my immense surprise, once I got up to the podium and started presenting, it all went smooth. I just kept telling myself... you do NOT want to disappoint Ellie. That thought got me through it, and I did great; I actually amazed myself. I left the college feeling wonderful to finally be 100% finished, and to have rocked my presentation. I was happy, and felt a sense of relief.
Too bad it was so short lived.
Three hours later, I was at home, anticipating the little weekend getaway we had planned (Vuni's band playing out of town again), when the mail arrived: a single, fat envelope from Social Security. I hesitated, knowing very likely that their could be bad news in that envelope... and there was. A big, bold DENIED. My disability claim... denied. And even worse? My therapist never submitted her paperwork. I know she got it; I talked to her about it. So either she dropped the ball, or someone's lying about having not received it... which they could be. The letter also stated that they never received a report from my mom, however, she never got any paper work to fill out in the first place. Bottom line is, I'm for sure going to appeal it.
But in the mean time, this leaves me with more anxiety and desperation than ever. I was hoping, with school finally finished for me, that I could at least enjoy the weekend with Vuni... but fucking no. I get the denial letter in the mail. What the fuck? I spent Friday evening filling out two long ass online job applications (one for a school lunch lady... one for a dishwasher in a hospital cafeteria. Real glamourous; but shit, I'll take those over customer service any day).
I decided not to tell my parents about the denial right away, because even though I already felt awful about it, I figured waiting and at least trying to semi-enjoy the weekend, with keeping the news to just Vuni and I, would help a little.
Saturday night was Vuni's band's show. I really, REALLY wanted to drink. Or smoke. The denial letter was eating me away from the inside; I could have used going numb. But I can't be drinking. And as for smoking... well, I'm not worried about becoming addicted to it. I never have; the smell is too freaking nasty for me to tolerate. I smoke every now and then when I'm stressed, but it's never been an issue. I wanted a cigarette on Saturday night, before the show, when we were standing outside and everyone was smoking. HOWEVER- Vuni has been trying to quit. He's actually gone 3 weeks so far without one. Part of my mind (the bitchy part) was telling me, well, Vuni doesn't care about your drinking issues, he always drinks in front of you, so why should you be considerate to him? Because, if he were to smoke since I was doing it... I'd feel responsible. I'd feel like I was the one who threw him off of the wagon, regardless of reality. So no smoking.
I plan on doing a separate post on our little trip, but I have to throw this in: not only was I wanting to numb by drinking... I was nervous as shit being in a bar, in a different city, not knowing anyone but the people on stage performing... I felt extremely awkward and anxious. Some drunk asshole just had to come along and start hassling me. Awful. I'll elaborate on that in my trip post, but just know, he ruined the little bit of fun I was trying to have; I ended up "escaping" to the car.
The thought of cuddling with Vuni in the hotel room later was the only thing that kept me sane on Saturday night...
Clearly, this was not my weekend. I'm amazed that I didn't fall apart, or just snap... I honestly thought, when sending out all of my disability paperwork, that if I got a denial letter, I'd lose it. It would be THE END. I'm not sure what I thought I'd do, but I didn't think I'd just be able to... cope with it.
But the worst was yet to come.
Since we were gone all weekend, Vuni and I decided to go to his parent's house yesterday evening to do some laundry. I always feel slightly awkward going to his parent's house. I don't feel like I am good enough for them, especially these days. They're almost too "perfect," and in very subtle ways, they make it clear that I'm not living up to their idea of perfection. I've ranted about it before. So why I was expecting things to go smoothly last night is beyond me.
Vuni's mom put me on one of the worst fucking guilt trips of my entire life...
Vun had already gone downstairs to watch TV, so I was alone with MIL in the kitchen, still trying to eat dinner and arguing with myself that it was okay to be eating... okay that I was getting seconds of salad and cooked spinach (aren't ED voices just a treat? FML). With feeling ultra imperfect and trying to be comfortable eating, plus the crappy events of the past few days, I was already in a very vulnerable spot.
She began very slowly, by suggesting different things I should be doing. As in, trying to find a job type things. Suggesting I try this, suggesting I try that. Asking why I don't try to apply to Clear Channel, or one of the TV stations? Well, I've told her why before: most broadcasting companies, whether it's TV or radio, will not even consider you unless you've interned with them, or have years of experience. I know, because I've had classmates go into both. I re-explained this to her, to which she replied, "well, is it to late for you to do an internship?" I told her it most likely was, considering I've already graduated, and if I did by some chance get one, it'd be for little to no pay. "Well, why should that matter? You're not bringing in any money anyways, and you have the time to do it." She should have just slapped me; it would've been less painful.
It matters because I do not want to do either, so why the fuck should I waste my time?
"I know the economy's bad, but with you not having a job, it must just be so stressful for you guys,"
Okay, Captain Obvious, thanks. You know what? I know you guys don't exactly like me (right now at least); I realize I'm not good enough for your precious boy. I know that you want a perfect, preppy, athletic little white girl who just graduated from med school or something for your son. But you know what? For whatever reason, he wants ME. He loves ME. He sees beyond the mess and anxiety, and sees a person, a person that he obviously loves very, very much. Do you not think I feel guilty every single fucking day? Do you think I don't question, constantly, whether I really do deserve your son's love? And do you think that I'm totally unaware of what you guys think of me? I have an anxiety disorder; I'm not fucking stupid. I'm sorry I'm tainting your perfect lives; I'm sorry you don't think I'm good enough for your son. God fucking damn.
I suddenly couldn't finish eating. I dumped the rest of my food out, and tried to decide what to do. I had an almost uncontrollable urge to want to grab a knife from the drawer, lock myself in the bathroom, and start cutting. I wanted to HURT physically. I wanted to freaking peel my skin off; to scratch myself until I bled, couldn't feel any pain but burning. I thought about running away, but to where, I don't know. Going to Walmart and getting a giant bottle of Tylenol PM VERY briefly crossed my mind; I can't imagine my life without Vuni, but yet I hate myself for being such an apparent burden to him (at least that's what I'm getting from his mom).
No, no, no. I have nowhere to run. If I were to cut myself, I'd merely be left with scars reminding me of how horrible I felt last night. And suicide... it's just never an option. NEVER. It may be tempting when everything feels so hopeless, but I've learned that hopelessness isn't forever; and I don't want to die, I want things to fucking change. So what did I do? I text my mom, asking her for a picture of Penny (my little fur sister). She sent one a few minutes later, and I replied with "Thanks, I needed that, I've just been put on the biggest guilt trip of my life." She asked by who...
So I walked out the back door, with Vuni completely oblivious, and called her. I started walking down the street, and told her what happened. The tears finally fell. I also admitted that my claim had been denied, to which she replied, "Wow. I'm so proud of you... I never would have known, you're handling it so well." I told her how tempted I was to drink, to smoke, to cut... anything for release, but I also said I know that it won't do anything but set me back. I told her I feel like I'm suffocating, because I so badly WANT to temporarily numb myself by some bad behavior, but I'm tortured by the thoughts of how much it'd hurt her, my dad, and Vuni if I did so... which keeps me from doing it. I told her, "It's so hard, to not do these things, to just keep getting bad news, to feel this way... and to stay strong. But I'm at the point where I don't have a choice; I don't have a choice but to be strong."
to which she replied, "Yes, you do have a choice; you're just making the right one."
Up until this point, I didn't think of it that way; I just keep telling myself, if I don't be strong, I'm going to lose it all. While that may be true, it's also true that I am very much making a choice- and it is the right one. Sure, I still fuck up, and OBVIOUSLY have a lot of major issues that I need to work through- and I'm more than likely ALWAYS going to deal with the anxiety... but I'm finally making right choices? And moreso, choices that not only I'm aware of, but someone else is too?
Maybe not everyone feels I'm good enough; maybe not everyone sees progress. But it's good to know that one of the most important people to me sees it; and that it's not all just in my head... it may be small, but I AM making progress.
...maybe one day I'll be enough.
P.S. I know I sound extremely frustrated towards my (most-likely) in-laws; this does NOT mean that I do not love them, or appreciate anything they've done for me. I also realize I've made some fucked up mistakes in the past, and that they have a right to have been angry with me at those times; but my anxiety disorder isn't one of those things. It's not something I chose, it was something I was born with. Although I can understand being frustrated (because believe me, I'm fucking frustrated with my own disorder), I just wish that they could try to be more understanding/supportive... gah, nothing in life is ever simple, is it?
Friday started out shitty; I had to give a presentation on a study I did with one of my professors (Ellie); the last official thing I had to do for school. I know I've already graduated, but I agreed to this presentation when I signed up for the study back in May. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong that morning, did; from realizing that the pages were numbered incorrectly in my report, to the printer not being friendly, to wardrobe crisis, to not finding a parking spot (and thus having to park in a 15 minutes max slot, and pray that I wouldn't get busted by a lot attendant)... add on the fact that I was nervous as all hell. But to my immense surprise, once I got up to the podium and started presenting, it all went smooth. I just kept telling myself... you do NOT want to disappoint Ellie. That thought got me through it, and I did great; I actually amazed myself. I left the college feeling wonderful to finally be 100% finished, and to have rocked my presentation. I was happy, and felt a sense of relief.
Too bad it was so short lived.
Three hours later, I was at home, anticipating the little weekend getaway we had planned (Vuni's band playing out of town again), when the mail arrived: a single, fat envelope from Social Security. I hesitated, knowing very likely that their could be bad news in that envelope... and there was. A big, bold DENIED. My disability claim... denied. And even worse? My therapist never submitted her paperwork. I know she got it; I talked to her about it. So either she dropped the ball, or someone's lying about having not received it... which they could be. The letter also stated that they never received a report from my mom, however, she never got any paper work to fill out in the first place. Bottom line is, I'm for sure going to appeal it.
But in the mean time, this leaves me with more anxiety and desperation than ever. I was hoping, with school finally finished for me, that I could at least enjoy the weekend with Vuni... but fucking no. I get the denial letter in the mail. What the fuck? I spent Friday evening filling out two long ass online job applications (one for a school lunch lady... one for a dishwasher in a hospital cafeteria. Real glamourous; but shit, I'll take those over customer service any day).
I decided not to tell my parents about the denial right away, because even though I already felt awful about it, I figured waiting and at least trying to semi-enjoy the weekend, with keeping the news to just Vuni and I, would help a little.
Saturday night was Vuni's band's show. I really, REALLY wanted to drink. Or smoke. The denial letter was eating me away from the inside; I could have used going numb. But I can't be drinking. And as for smoking... well, I'm not worried about becoming addicted to it. I never have; the smell is too freaking nasty for me to tolerate. I smoke every now and then when I'm stressed, but it's never been an issue. I wanted a cigarette on Saturday night, before the show, when we were standing outside and everyone was smoking. HOWEVER- Vuni has been trying to quit. He's actually gone 3 weeks so far without one. Part of my mind (the bitchy part) was telling me, well, Vuni doesn't care about your drinking issues, he always drinks in front of you, so why should you be considerate to him? Because, if he were to smoke since I was doing it... I'd feel responsible. I'd feel like I was the one who threw him off of the wagon, regardless of reality. So no smoking.
I plan on doing a separate post on our little trip, but I have to throw this in: not only was I wanting to numb by drinking... I was nervous as shit being in a bar, in a different city, not knowing anyone but the people on stage performing... I felt extremely awkward and anxious. Some drunk asshole just had to come along and start hassling me. Awful. I'll elaborate on that in my trip post, but just know, he ruined the little bit of fun I was trying to have; I ended up "escaping" to the car.
The thought of cuddling with Vuni in the hotel room later was the only thing that kept me sane on Saturday night...
Clearly, this was not my weekend. I'm amazed that I didn't fall apart, or just snap... I honestly thought, when sending out all of my disability paperwork, that if I got a denial letter, I'd lose it. It would be THE END. I'm not sure what I thought I'd do, but I didn't think I'd just be able to... cope with it.
But the worst was yet to come.
Since we were gone all weekend, Vuni and I decided to go to his parent's house yesterday evening to do some laundry. I always feel slightly awkward going to his parent's house. I don't feel like I am good enough for them, especially these days. They're almost too "perfect," and in very subtle ways, they make it clear that I'm not living up to their idea of perfection. I've ranted about it before. So why I was expecting things to go smoothly last night is beyond me.
Vuni's mom put me on one of the worst fucking guilt trips of my entire life...
Vun had already gone downstairs to watch TV, so I was alone with MIL in the kitchen, still trying to eat dinner and arguing with myself that it was okay to be eating... okay that I was getting seconds of salad and cooked spinach (aren't ED voices just a treat? FML). With feeling ultra imperfect and trying to be comfortable eating, plus the crappy events of the past few days, I was already in a very vulnerable spot.
She began very slowly, by suggesting different things I should be doing. As in, trying to find a job type things. Suggesting I try this, suggesting I try that. Asking why I don't try to apply to Clear Channel, or one of the TV stations? Well, I've told her why before: most broadcasting companies, whether it's TV or radio, will not even consider you unless you've interned with them, or have years of experience. I know, because I've had classmates go into both. I re-explained this to her, to which she replied, "well, is it to late for you to do an internship?" I told her it most likely was, considering I've already graduated, and if I did by some chance get one, it'd be for little to no pay. "Well, why should that matter? You're not bringing in any money anyways, and you have the time to do it." She should have just slapped me; it would've been less painful.
It matters because I do not want to do either, so why the fuck should I waste my time?
"I know the economy's bad, but with you not having a job, it must just be so stressful for you guys,"
Okay, Captain Obvious, thanks. You know what? I know you guys don't exactly like me (right now at least); I realize I'm not good enough for your precious boy. I know that you want a perfect, preppy, athletic little white girl who just graduated from med school or something for your son. But you know what? For whatever reason, he wants ME. He loves ME. He sees beyond the mess and anxiety, and sees a person, a person that he obviously loves very, very much. Do you not think I feel guilty every single fucking day? Do you think I don't question, constantly, whether I really do deserve your son's love? And do you think that I'm totally unaware of what you guys think of me? I have an anxiety disorder; I'm not fucking stupid. I'm sorry I'm tainting your perfect lives; I'm sorry you don't think I'm good enough for your son. God fucking damn.
I suddenly couldn't finish eating. I dumped the rest of my food out, and tried to decide what to do. I had an almost uncontrollable urge to want to grab a knife from the drawer, lock myself in the bathroom, and start cutting. I wanted to HURT physically. I wanted to freaking peel my skin off; to scratch myself until I bled, couldn't feel any pain but burning. I thought about running away, but to where, I don't know. Going to Walmart and getting a giant bottle of Tylenol PM VERY briefly crossed my mind; I can't imagine my life without Vuni, but yet I hate myself for being such an apparent burden to him (at least that's what I'm getting from his mom).
No, no, no. I have nowhere to run. If I were to cut myself, I'd merely be left with scars reminding me of how horrible I felt last night. And suicide... it's just never an option. NEVER. It may be tempting when everything feels so hopeless, but I've learned that hopelessness isn't forever; and I don't want to die, I want things to fucking change. So what did I do? I text my mom, asking her for a picture of Penny (my little fur sister). She sent one a few minutes later, and I replied with "Thanks, I needed that, I've just been put on the biggest guilt trip of my life." She asked by who...
So I walked out the back door, with Vuni completely oblivious, and called her. I started walking down the street, and told her what happened. The tears finally fell. I also admitted that my claim had been denied, to which she replied, "Wow. I'm so proud of you... I never would have known, you're handling it so well." I told her how tempted I was to drink, to smoke, to cut... anything for release, but I also said I know that it won't do anything but set me back. I told her I feel like I'm suffocating, because I so badly WANT to temporarily numb myself by some bad behavior, but I'm tortured by the thoughts of how much it'd hurt her, my dad, and Vuni if I did so... which keeps me from doing it. I told her, "It's so hard, to not do these things, to just keep getting bad news, to feel this way... and to stay strong. But I'm at the point where I don't have a choice; I don't have a choice but to be strong."
to which she replied, "Yes, you do have a choice; you're just making the right one."
Up until this point, I didn't think of it that way; I just keep telling myself, if I don't be strong, I'm going to lose it all. While that may be true, it's also true that I am very much making a choice- and it is the right one. Sure, I still fuck up, and OBVIOUSLY have a lot of major issues that I need to work through- and I'm more than likely ALWAYS going to deal with the anxiety... but I'm finally making right choices? And moreso, choices that not only I'm aware of, but someone else is too?
Maybe not everyone feels I'm good enough; maybe not everyone sees progress. But it's good to know that one of the most important people to me sees it; and that it's not all just in my head... it may be small, but I AM making progress.
...maybe one day I'll be enough.
P.S. I know I sound extremely frustrated towards my (most-likely) in-laws; this does NOT mean that I do not love them, or appreciate anything they've done for me. I also realize I've made some fucked up mistakes in the past, and that they have a right to have been angry with me at those times; but my anxiety disorder isn't one of those things. It's not something I chose, it was something I was born with. Although I can understand being frustrated (because believe me, I'm fucking frustrated with my own disorder), I just wish that they could try to be more understanding/supportive... gah, nothing in life is ever simple, is it?
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Catharsis: "Un-Friending" for My Sanity
Once upon a time, in land far far away in cyberspace called Facebook, I was adamant to send and receive as many friend requests as possible, change my status multiple times a day, and upload new pictures of myself frequently. Not anymore.
Why?
I absolutely despise what I believe Facebook has become: a place to be nosy as all hell. A place where you can pretend to care about someone because you're their "friend," but really, all you want is to dig up dirt on that person... you don't give a damn about them for real.
I've been guilty of doing that- I'm sure we all have- but it's been a long time.
At first, I was naive and thought it was a good thing, the way Facebook reconnects people and allows you to keep in touch with them. And yeah, it is a good thing- when it works out. For example- I have a friend whom I never really lost touch with, but we've grown apart. We've been friends since we were 8 years old, because our moms are extremely close. He and I are not close friends now, but I love him like a cousin, and I'm pretty sure he'll always be a part of my life... so he is my Facebook friend. We can check up on each other, because even though we're not super close, we genuinely care about each other, you know?
But then, there's people from high school who have added me. High school might as well have been called "Hell School"; my agoraphobia and anxiety, plus the stupid stereotypes of popularity contests and such made my high school experience a miserable one. I actually liked the learning and studying part; it was the social aspect that made it awful. By my senior year, I was hiding out in the library during lunch and only had two friends that I regularly talked to.
So at first, I thought it was kind of neat that people from high school would add me... and then I realized, they don't give a damn about me any more than they did in high school. They didn't want to "reconnect;" they wanted to stick their noses in my business and know if I'd gone the route of success, or was screwing up. I'm not saying I'm innocent as far as being mildly interested in what people are doing now... but I don't send them friend requests just so I can nose around their lives. Pathetic.
What breaks my heart is that I was close to a teacher in high school, Anna. When I graduated, she told me we couldn't stay in touch, at least initially, because of the weird conflict of interest thing. I thought that was a load of crap, but whatever. Earlier this year, nearly 7 years after I graduated HS, to my surprise, she sent me a friend request. I happily accepted. I sent her a message telling her how I was and asking her how she was, only to get a very vague response. Okkkay... so I sent her reply saying we should go get coffee and catch up. She agreed, but didn't give me a time as to when she was available, so I replied with "let me know when you have time." No response. I have heart surgery in June, and Vuni posted via my account to let everyone know that I'd come out from surgery ok. I get a message from Anna several days later, asking a bunch of questions about the surgery. WTF? I give a few vague answers, and once again, tell her that although I'm recovering and can't drive for awhile, my mom could pick me up and I could meet her for coffee to catch up. A week goes by. No response. Furious and hurt, I de-friended her. I couldn't believe it. This situation was absolute proof to me that she did not give a shit about me, but that all she wanted was to butt into my business. I was seriously so hurt.
Another thing that really, really bothers me is when I have been responsive to friends (commenting on their status or pictures) and they never extend the same courtesy. I realize (unlike MANY people) that FB is not a popularity contest, but when I interact with someone, I expect them to interact back with me at least every now and then. A perfect example is a kid named Rick that I went to school with. I loved the kid, thought he was funny and enjoyed commenting on his goofy statuses on FB... but I don't know that he EVER said anything to me on there. Finally, I decided I was sick of this one-sided "friendship" and since I was nearing my graduation and figured I wouldn't be seeing too much of him anymore, I unfriended him as well.
And then, there's friends like Jackie. Jackie was a lot like Rick; I felt as thought the friendship was pretty one sided, especially because Jackie lives half-way across the country, so our "friendship" was pretty much all in cyberspace.
What bothered me about Jackie is... she's WAY too personal. Now, you're may be thinking, Em what the hell? You're spilling all of these crazy thoughts of yours and insane situations you've been in, and you're criticizing someone for being TOO personal? Yes, but let me explain.
My blog is my blog, and it is specifically to share my experiences and thoughts as I try to navigate through life, dealing with both a severe anxiety disorder and potentially life-endangering heart conditions (what a combination...). It's here for people to read, if they want to. If they search for my blog, and decide they want to read it.
That is precisely why I had to delete Jackie; seeing as that things were already rough, with her not contributing much to our "friendship," I just got sick and tired of reading and seeing everything she was posting. She's a health snob- to the max. And while not excessively wealthy, she sure as hell acted like she was made of gold. So part of this is my own jealousy, and I can admit that. But it's a little hard to log onto FB and see her specifically bashing people who drink coffee from 7-11, just because she can afford a $4 cup of "real" Chai tea from Peets every day. It hurts just a little bit when she specifically talks shit about processed foods, just because she can afford to shop at Whole Foods and Trader Joes (while I shrink into the corner with my 18 cent cup of ramen...). And it makes me cringe in sadness and shame when she says that the only place she will buy her jeans at is Nordstroms. I bought a pair of jeans for the first time in months last week. Wanna know where I got them? From the thrift store. What set me over the edge is when she bashed aerobics videos... what the actual fuck? Good for you, that you're a stay at home mom, and can not only afford a membership to the poshest (her word, not mine) fitness club in your city, but that you have all the time in the world to go there and work out whenever, since they also have a super-amazing daycare. My mom, who works full time as 2nd grade teacher, and is involved with extracurricular stuff with the school, maintains quite a nice little body for being almost 50 years old and having a number of health problems... by getting up at 4:15 every morning and working out to various aerobics videos.
I'm not bashing Jackie for having certain opinions about things; what bothers me is that she is constantly sharing these opinions that are, quite frankly, offensive. They are to me (and I know I'm not the only one, as I have seen some people call her out on things here and there). It's not that I don't think people should share their opinions, but I think people need to think before they share their opinions because, let's face it, no matter what your privacy settings are, Facebook has become a pretty public "place." I actually had to delete one of my own cousins (this was several years ago) because she was shamelessly (and without thinking) posting stuff on political/social issues that I found EXTREMELY offensive. Even moreso, I was appalled that she'd just openly post this stuff on FB when she knows that a lot of our family doesn't share similar beliefs; to me, it was worse than if she were to stand on a crowded street corner with a sign and a megaphone.
So you see, I am not clogging up the NewsFeed of everyone who is on my Friends list with why my life is so much better than yours because I can afford everything to be all natural and top-notch (ha) or proclaiming that you are going to go to hell if you're sinning in ways a-b-c/x-y-z.
And then... these friends are the kinds that not everyone has: the triggering ones. People with eating disorders, you know what I'm talking about. For those of you who don't, "triggering" is pretty much as it sounds, someone who, through words or actions (and sadly, appearance) makes the ED voices go off like crazy. Makes you feel fat, want to lose weight, want to not eat, yadda yadda. I haven't had too many of these friends, but thought I'd bring it up, especially because I just de-friended one.
I was very torn about having to unfriend Stevie. I've known her for almost 5 years; we were in treatment together. She is a very sweet girl and a good person, but I've been driven to the edge. Again, part of it may be jealous or envy, but it blows my mind that she has been to some of the top treatment facilities in the country... and she makes no effort to get better. None. She constantly gushes about how she has the "best family in the world!," whom also happen to be very wealthy. She graduated from high school 3 years ago, but has only made it through 1.5 semesters of college. She has never had a job. So... I don't get it. Loving family, no financial worries, no job (so no job stress), and no school stress since her family is obviously (and rightly so) more concerned about her getting healthy before she continues her education. I obviously don't know the whole situation, but I know that I can't be the only one who would love to be in her position. How many people would love to be able to afford the best treatment? Would love to not have to worry about your job, or finances, and could just go and stay in treatment as long as it takes? Stevie spent almost 7 months at her most recent treatment center; a few months after her discharge, she looked as sickly and frail as she did pre-treatment facility. She's been to 5 different treatment facilities with multiple stints in 2 of them since I've known her.
It makes me so angry that Stevie has all of these great opportunities that so many people with eating/mental disorders could only dream of having, and she doesn't even make an effort. Doesn't give a damn, doesn't try. Well, I'm sick of it. It's frustrating as all hell, it's triggering to me, and I don't want to watch her kill herself; especially not when she has all of the money, tools, and support to get through this. So I de-friended her.
I don't know if all of this is a result of the agoraphobia/anxiety having worsening immensely over the past 1-1.5 years, or just the fact that it's the truth (ie, some "normal" people feel the same way). I've become very "quiet" on my FB, and don't post as much pictures as I use to, but regardlessly, I don't want looky-lous who don't give a damn about me nosing around my stuff. I'm sick of one-sided "friendships." I'm sick of FB being a world of too-much-info, where people blurt out random things without thinking about what they're saying and how it might affect their friends. And I for sure have no room for people in my life who are just going to trigger my ED thoughts. Seriously, Facebook seems like a big, online high school, full of drama, immaturity, and acting before thinking.
So why don't I just delete my account? Because... there are some people, specifically long distance, who I want to be FB friends with. I actually did voice my desire to possibly delete my account to one of these friends, but she convinced me otherwise.
I went on a massive deletion spree the other day; and I can say, with a MUCH shorter friend list... I'm feeling a hell of a lot better. Some people I didn't think twice about deleting. Others, like Jackie and Stevie, were much more painful. I actually questioned myself after the matter: did I do the right thing? In my heart, I know I did. Neither girl is a bad person by any means, but they're not good for me. When I get more frustration and anger out of a "friendship" than I do joy and there's no indication that things will improve... that's a sign it's time to go.
For anyone who uses Facebook for networking, I understand that :) For anyone who is the polar opposite of me (ie, not all uptight and paranoid) and doesn't mind casual FB friends, I give you kuddos. But that's not me. I have a hard enough time with people in real life; hiding behind my computer, I don't need crap in my online life. My FB friends don't need to be people I see often or am even very close to... but they have to be people I care about, and whom I know care about me too.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Ironing My Sheets, Dealing With Triggers
It's Sunday evening; Sunday, a day that often equates (at least in my mind) to family and relaxation, good food/drink and fun, maybe some errands and chores. My Sunday was made up of most of these things. I was up at 7:15, and by 8:30, I had already worked out, and was sipping on my smoothie and sorting laundry. The boy got up, we got ready for the day (dressing in comfy Sunday clothes, of course), and packed up the car to head to his parent's house. We stopped at the gas station on our way to pick up some Slim Jims for Vuni, and some coffee for myself... YUM <3
Now... I'm sorry for this little rant, so skip ahead if you don't wanna hear this ;) but coffee snobs drive me just a little bit crazy. My brother is one such snob, so I don't feel too guilty complaining about this. It's super annoying when people act like convenience store coffee is poison and beneath them, because they can afford to drink a $5 latte catered by a barista every day. Umm, sorry, but some of us just can't afford to dish out $100+ a month on a beverage. A gourmet skinny raspberry vanilla latte is an occasional treat to me, not a daily necessity. I don't drink coffee every day anyway, so my cheap caramel apple flavored "cappuccino" from a dispenser is enough of a treat to me... and I enjoyed every last drop of it!
We got to Vuni's parents' house, and I started on our laundry (no, sadly, Vuni and I do not have a washer and dryer- but we are blessed in that our parents let us use their facilities ;). The house was quiet, as Vuni's mom, Aren, and sister, Krisi, were at the grocery store; with the washer going, I decided to relax, drink my cheap cappuccino, and read the newspaper. All was well in the world.
I should note, before I continue, that 21-year old Krisi just moved back in with her and Vuni's parents, after living with friends for a year. Now, I do love Krisi; she is most likely going to be my sister in law one day, and I've thought of her that way for years now... but it's one of those, I love you but you're a pain in the ass type deals. She is almost the polar opposite of Vuni and I: popularity and cool factor means a lot to her, materialism is big, she loves reality TV and Top 40 music, wears $110 jeans (just an example of her materialism), goes tanning and has hair extensions, thinks clubbing and partying are the shit... that kind of thing.
What makes it truly difficult to be around her, however, is that she constantly seems to be on "a diet." She is constantly complaining about how she is too fat and needs to lose weight. She obsesses about food, calories, and exercise. She has multiple gym memberships, a ton of exercise equipment, a ton of adorable work-out clothes (not to mention, probably 10+ pairs of Nike/Adidas/ect. work out shoes... like, I'm not even kidding), and has taken various diet pills. She is not fat; she has an athletic build, though losing just a little bit of weight would not hurt. But that's besides the point; the fact is, she has been complaining about wanting to lose weight for at least a year, but it just hasn't happened. She starts up, then slips; starts up, then slips. I hate to say this, but... one of the biggest problems is her alcohol consumption. I just wish she would realize that; it would make a big difference :( The thing is... all her talk about dieting and exercising and self-loathing is extremely triggering to me.
When Aren and Krisi returned from grocery shopping, I jumped up and began helping them unload the car. Before we even finished putting the groceries away, it began:
"Oh yeah, you can put the avocados in that dish; we're not allowed to eat fruit on this diet, so we won't be putting any in there."
"This dressing has too many grams of sugar in it, we can't eat it!"
"Do you and Vuni want these soups? No pasta on this diet, so we need to get rid of them!"
They weren't even home for a full 5 minutes, and my head was ready to explode!
Em, you need to diet too. Maybe you're not fat, but you don't want to slip up, and become fat. Wait, maybe you are fat. Okay, maybe you're not fat, but if they're not eating x, you shouldn't be eating x. But what if you are fat? What if you get fat? What if fruit really does make you fat? What if they get skinnier than you? Are they trying to make you fat by giving you the foods they don't want to eat, so they can be skinnier than you? You need to tone up, you need to work out more, you need to keep it together, so you that DO NOT FAIL.
I am so embarrassed and so ashamed to admit that those thoughts were running through my head; that even now, in some ways, they still are (but I promised that I would be honest on this blog, despite feeling embarrassed/ashamed). Why am I having these thoughts? They are so, so irrational, and I know it. I'm happy that I can at least identify that these thoughts are irrational, but it frustrates the hell out of me that I have them in the first place... and that they affect me so much :(
So while Aren and Krisi began cooking a lunch they were "allowed" to have, I decided to self-soothe by escaping to the laundry room and folding/hanging up the load of Aren's clothes I'd just pulled out of the dryer. (Am I crazy that doing chores soothes me? More on that later...) So I seem like a big hypocrite, right? I am semi-rigid with my food intake/level of daily activity, despite being... thin (see even admitting that I know that I, in reality, am thin is very difficult), but it's not okay for them to do the same? Well, it makes me angry that I see myself, and very eating disordered thoughts, in what they're doing, when they not only know how badly I have struggled with body dysmorphia/disordered eating, but Aren's sister at one time struggled with a severe eating disorder. I could see if they were taking an honest healthy approach (Weight Watchers, or just being conscience and active like my parents), but they aren't approaching it in a healthy way. Eliminating entire food groups, using negativity to "keep each other in line," obsessing... I mean, it's dejavu! It's like watching my irrational eating disordered thoughts played out in front of me! And it's extremely triggering... hence my crazy explosion of irrational thinking.
When lunch was ready, I was faced with a dilemma; do I prove that I am the "disciplined" skinny girl and not eat, or do I prove that I can be rational and eat anyways? Overall, I chose to be rational; fear and a little bit of anger kept me from eating the chili they were having, but I did have a good, decent sized salad dressed up with blue cheese and almonds, aka healthy proteins & fats (not just veggies!). I also had a big glass of pom-blueberry juice... and a small glass of milk.
After lunch, however, I was feeling a little guilty, not to mention grumpy due to pain/discomfort from the ear infection that I've had for too freaking long now... so what did I do to deal with this? I became my mother.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, a girl who at one time thought the iron was a pointless device ironed her bed sheets. I've contemplated ironing my sheets for some time now; I make our bed every day, and I've just thought it would look prettier if they laid flat, not in a crinkly mess. However, ironing sheets is something my mother does. You know, when your mom is nagging you to do your chores, you're thinking she's crazy because she irons her sheets? Well, now that I'm in my own house, I've become tidy and nit-picky, just like my mom! The myth is true, in my case. It's a good thing I have such an awesome mom, otherwise I'd be more worried about myself than I already am ;)
Ironing and anticipating how pretty our bed would look quieted the irr-thoughts. I finished our laundry. Vuni wanted to stick around for dinner; it wasn't going to be ready for awhile, so he and I decided to go to the store and pick up a few groceries ourselves, while Aren also asked us to pick up a few things she forgot. Despite the doubts stirred up when Aren told me that she and Krisi cannot eat fruit, I went ahead and grabbed my blueberries and bananas for my smoothies. (SCORE!- my love for smoothies just won't let those stupid irr-thoughts derail me! Seriously, I can't imagine not having my smoothie in the morning...).
By the time we got back, the anticipation of dinner was getting to me. Since we still had a bit until it was time to eat, I went downstairs, and used Krisi's kettle bells to do some mild weight training... just to ease my mind. This then turned into some yoga, specifically planking. Ah, the burn in my arms took away from the ear discomfort... Err, yeah, I think I'm calling my doctor tomorrow :( Follow up wasn't suppose to be for another week, but things aren't getting better... and I'm sick of it!
I ended up eating a great dinner; more salad (with blue cheese again!), hearts of palm, baked potato, and grilled bell peppers and onions- YUM. I felt GOOD about it after; and I STILL feel good about it. It was a damn awesome dinner.
I'm anticipating a bumpy road ahead, and even as I sit here, I'm wrestling with uncertain thoughts (though now, I'm worrying about how selfish and self-absorbed I sound, making such a big deal of this... does it ever stop?). However, I'm proud of how I dealt with such immense triggers today. Instead of letting the thoughts consume me, and resorting to starving or purging, I did my best to rationalize... I acknowledge that I was having irrational thoughts, but I distracted myself in healthy(ier) ways. I'd call that success. And hell yeah, our bed looks awesome ;)
P.S. Despite my frustrated complaints, I truly do love my (most likely) future mama and sis-in-laws. If they didn't occasionally make you question your sanity, could you seriously consider them family? I think not ;)
Now... I'm sorry for this little rant, so skip ahead if you don't wanna hear this ;) but coffee snobs drive me just a little bit crazy. My brother is one such snob, so I don't feel too guilty complaining about this. It's super annoying when people act like convenience store coffee is poison and beneath them, because they can afford to drink a $5 latte catered by a barista every day. Umm, sorry, but some of us just can't afford to dish out $100+ a month on a beverage. A gourmet skinny raspberry vanilla latte is an occasional treat to me, not a daily necessity. I don't drink coffee every day anyway, so my cheap caramel apple flavored "cappuccino" from a dispenser is enough of a treat to me... and I enjoyed every last drop of it!
Caramel apple cappuccino dispensed from a machine? YES PLEASE!
We got to Vuni's parents' house, and I started on our laundry (no, sadly, Vuni and I do not have a washer and dryer- but we are blessed in that our parents let us use their facilities ;). The house was quiet, as Vuni's mom, Aren, and sister, Krisi, were at the grocery store; with the washer going, I decided to relax, drink my cheap cappuccino, and read the newspaper. All was well in the world.
I should note, before I continue, that 21-year old Krisi just moved back in with her and Vuni's parents, after living with friends for a year. Now, I do love Krisi; she is most likely going to be my sister in law one day, and I've thought of her that way for years now... but it's one of those, I love you but you're a pain in the ass type deals. She is almost the polar opposite of Vuni and I: popularity and cool factor means a lot to her, materialism is big, she loves reality TV and Top 40 music, wears $110 jeans (just an example of her materialism), goes tanning and has hair extensions, thinks clubbing and partying are the shit... that kind of thing.
What makes it truly difficult to be around her, however, is that she constantly seems to be on "a diet." She is constantly complaining about how she is too fat and needs to lose weight. She obsesses about food, calories, and exercise. She has multiple gym memberships, a ton of exercise equipment, a ton of adorable work-out clothes (not to mention, probably 10+ pairs of Nike/Adidas/ect. work out shoes... like, I'm not even kidding), and has taken various diet pills. She is not fat; she has an athletic build, though losing just a little bit of weight would not hurt. But that's besides the point; the fact is, she has been complaining about wanting to lose weight for at least a year, but it just hasn't happened. She starts up, then slips; starts up, then slips. I hate to say this, but... one of the biggest problems is her alcohol consumption. I just wish she would realize that; it would make a big difference :( The thing is... all her talk about dieting and exercising and self-loathing is extremely triggering to me.
When Aren and Krisi returned from grocery shopping, I jumped up and began helping them unload the car. Before we even finished putting the groceries away, it began:
"Oh yeah, you can put the avocados in that dish; we're not allowed to eat fruit on this diet, so we won't be putting any in there."
"This dressing has too many grams of sugar in it, we can't eat it!"
"Do you and Vuni want these soups? No pasta on this diet, so we need to get rid of them!"
They weren't even home for a full 5 minutes, and my head was ready to explode!
Em, you need to diet too. Maybe you're not fat, but you don't want to slip up, and become fat. Wait, maybe you are fat. Okay, maybe you're not fat, but if they're not eating x, you shouldn't be eating x. But what if you are fat? What if you get fat? What if fruit really does make you fat? What if they get skinnier than you? Are they trying to make you fat by giving you the foods they don't want to eat, so they can be skinnier than you? You need to tone up, you need to work out more, you need to keep it together, so you that DO NOT FAIL.
I am so embarrassed and so ashamed to admit that those thoughts were running through my head; that even now, in some ways, they still are (but I promised that I would be honest on this blog, despite feeling embarrassed/ashamed). Why am I having these thoughts? They are so, so irrational, and I know it. I'm happy that I can at least identify that these thoughts are irrational, but it frustrates the hell out of me that I have them in the first place... and that they affect me so much :(
So while Aren and Krisi began cooking a lunch they were "allowed" to have, I decided to self-soothe by escaping to the laundry room and folding/hanging up the load of Aren's clothes I'd just pulled out of the dryer. (Am I crazy that doing chores soothes me? More on that later...) So I seem like a big hypocrite, right? I am semi-rigid with my food intake/level of daily activity, despite being... thin (see even admitting that I know that I, in reality, am thin is very difficult), but it's not okay for them to do the same? Well, it makes me angry that I see myself, and very eating disordered thoughts, in what they're doing, when they not only know how badly I have struggled with body dysmorphia/disordered eating, but Aren's sister at one time struggled with a severe eating disorder. I could see if they were taking an honest healthy approach (Weight Watchers, or just being conscience and active like my parents), but they aren't approaching it in a healthy way. Eliminating entire food groups, using negativity to "keep each other in line," obsessing... I mean, it's dejavu! It's like watching my irrational eating disordered thoughts played out in front of me! And it's extremely triggering... hence my crazy explosion of irrational thinking.
When lunch was ready, I was faced with a dilemma; do I prove that I am the "disciplined" skinny girl and not eat, or do I prove that I can be rational and eat anyways? Overall, I chose to be rational; fear and a little bit of anger kept me from eating the chili they were having, but I did have a good, decent sized salad dressed up with blue cheese and almonds, aka healthy proteins & fats (not just veggies!). I also had a big glass of pom-blueberry juice... and a small glass of milk.
After lunch, however, I was feeling a little guilty, not to mention grumpy due to pain/discomfort from the ear infection that I've had for too freaking long now... so what did I do to deal with this? I became my mother.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, a girl who at one time thought the iron was a pointless device ironed her bed sheets. I've contemplated ironing my sheets for some time now; I make our bed every day, and I've just thought it would look prettier if they laid flat, not in a crinkly mess. However, ironing sheets is something my mother does. You know, when your mom is nagging you to do your chores, you're thinking she's crazy because she irons her sheets? Well, now that I'm in my own house, I've become tidy and nit-picky, just like my mom! The myth is true, in my case. It's a good thing I have such an awesome mom, otherwise I'd be more worried about myself than I already am ;)
Ironing and anticipating how pretty our bed would look quieted the irr-thoughts. I finished our laundry. Vuni wanted to stick around for dinner; it wasn't going to be ready for awhile, so he and I decided to go to the store and pick up a few groceries ourselves, while Aren also asked us to pick up a few things she forgot. Despite the doubts stirred up when Aren told me that she and Krisi cannot eat fruit, I went ahead and grabbed my blueberries and bananas for my smoothies. (SCORE!- my love for smoothies just won't let those stupid irr-thoughts derail me! Seriously, I can't imagine not having my smoothie in the morning...).
By the time we got back, the anticipation of dinner was getting to me. Since we still had a bit until it was time to eat, I went downstairs, and used Krisi's kettle bells to do some mild weight training... just to ease my mind. This then turned into some yoga, specifically planking. Ah, the burn in my arms took away from the ear discomfort... Err, yeah, I think I'm calling my doctor tomorrow :( Follow up wasn't suppose to be for another week, but things aren't getting better... and I'm sick of it!
I ended up eating a great dinner; more salad (with blue cheese again!), hearts of palm, baked potato, and grilled bell peppers and onions- YUM. I felt GOOD about it after; and I STILL feel good about it. It was a damn awesome dinner.
I'm anticipating a bumpy road ahead, and even as I sit here, I'm wrestling with uncertain thoughts (though now, I'm worrying about how selfish and self-absorbed I sound, making such a big deal of this... does it ever stop?). However, I'm proud of how I dealt with such immense triggers today. Instead of letting the thoughts consume me, and resorting to starving or purging, I did my best to rationalize... I acknowledge that I was having irrational thoughts, but I distracted myself in healthy(ier) ways. I'd call that success. And hell yeah, our bed looks awesome ;)
P.S. Despite my frustrated complaints, I truly do love my (most likely) future mama and sis-in-laws. If they didn't occasionally make you question your sanity, could you seriously consider them family? I think not ;)
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