Random free thought post meant for my public blog that got rambly and stopped making sense to me
I've never once thought that I was perfect or impeccable.
Sometimes my pride gets ahead of me and I feel invincible. Those are the time I've learned, unequivocally, the above statement: I am not perfect.
I've done a lot of mulling over mistakes for the past 10 years or so. My mistakes. The ways in which I have disappointed, hurt, and neglected people in my life.
In particular one person but that's another story, for another day.
I've learned a lot from the heartache I've felt and have been known to cause in others. It's a cliche thing to say, and it makes me feel like I'm cheating at writing, but it's so very true.
One of the most important things I've learned, over and over again, is that it's ok for things to be over. Not just in real life, but in your head. It's ok to have a thought, and let it go.
Something a lot of people don't know about eating disorders is that they're closely related to OCD and substance abuse. They're about control. So for most of my life I have battled obsessive thought patterns.
It can be a tricky war zone in there, especially during times of stress or trauma. Even more so when I feel personally responsible for that stress or trauma. I will obsess over the many ways in which I should have been, what I should have said, what I should have walked away from or said no to.
I've worked for 10 years to accept those thoughts, the ugly blamey ones, as things that come into my head unbidden (because, intrusive thoughts. Yay mental illness!) and then let them go. Like breath. Really, you can only hold onto it for so long until your lungs burn and you pass out and your autonomic nervous system takes back over. You live, but it was still harmful. The more you do it, the more harm you cause.
It's really hard guys. It's not like, this thing that I woke up one day and was like, "Awesome. I can dismiss ALL the intrusive thoughts and never obsess again!" More often it was like, "Hold up. Wait. How long have I been obsessing over this? When did I even START obsessing over this? Oh, that random thought I had three weeks ago. That sucks." At which point I sing that song from Frozen (which I still haven't seen, actually). And I distract myself or I write down the thought and shut my journal. I do yoga or go for a walk or talk to a friend. I play with my cat or pet my bunny.
And things have been rough lately. Of course I'm sure anyone interested in reading this is aware that I'm in the middle of getting divorced. It's not a big secret. For me, things haven't been good in a while and I'm much happier. However, moving out of the house I've been living in for 4 years and saying goodbye to 2 cats and the person I shared my space with is a lot of change. Difficult change.
On top of that I had a colonoscopy at the end of last year and found out I had a polyp, the kind that could turn into cancer. I also got prescribed the Low-FODMAP Diet at that time, to try out, because of the many GI symptoms I've had most of my life. It helps a lot.
However, I just unlearned the classic ED trait of classifying foods as "Good" or "Bad" and having a strict, obsessive diet. It's been. . . 4 years I guess. Since I started working at Rebel and realized there was no way I was going to be able to count my calories or avoid eating a ton of Donuts, as it was part of my job. Quality control ;o)
That was the last piece of the intense ED puzzle that fell into place, and it was basically magic. Suddenly I was allowing myself to try every food and eat anything I wanted. In a really healthy way. It was awesome.
I was drinking way too much, WAY too much, but that too is another story for another day. I'm not drinking right now, I need my head to be clear to navigate these waters. I like drinking, and I hope to develop a healthy (adult) relationship with alcohol one day. Wine is delicious.
Anyway.
When it was suggested I try the Low-FODMAP diet, it made a lot of sense to me based on family history and the fact that my 90% or my diet consisted of the foods I was no longer allowed to eat. So I began that journey. Not everyone is sensitive
It was ok at first, I was still living with my ex and things were. . . not ok, but stable. I freaked out a couple times because I figured out very early on the wheat, garlic, and onions MESS ME THE F UP. It's the fructans. A carbohydrate in them that my body doesn't feel the need to digest. Like a lactose intolerance. It's exactly the same thing, but with a bunch of other carbohydrates.
Now let's talk about my identity for a second. Let's talk about the things I used to replace the part of my identity I had filled up with "Girl Who Has Eating Disorder." When you start to recover from any mental illness, you become aware that you have to create a kind of new way of looking at yourself. It's the difference between, "I'm Anorexic," and "I have Anorexia."
The things I replaced "I am my eating disorder" are:
"I am a baker."
"I am a foodie."
"I am a Rebel."
So take away the basics of two (three) of those things and I felt stripped of a protective layer of mental armor. Being in that hallow place I tried to fill it with excitement of learning to cook a new way. . . But cooking had already become a chore. I was struggling with the motivation to give a shit about my living situation, and it showed in my reluctance to put in an effort in the kitchen.
So now to have to eliminate the flavors I add to everything (and I had JUST perfected cooking garlic so it didn't burn). It was daunting. I didn't know what flavors to even try. I felt paralyze and vulnerable.
Then, because I'm good at timing, I decided it was time to bite the bullet and leave my marriage. I'm not really sure what reason people think I have, and I'm pretty reluctant to share. It's so private and raw, and if I had to hazard a guess it's not why you think. I'm not going to talk about it, this isn't the forum to discuss it.
But it happened, is happening, and it has an impact on my life. Duh.
All that change all at once, all of the self labels I had to reevaluate, including "wife" left me shaky.
I can't eat out anymore without fear of eating something and becoming ill. There goes "foodie."
I only know (so far) about baking with wheat flour. I know very little about GF/Fructan free baking. I can, and will, learn but it's going to take time and money that I don't have right now.
I am still a Rebel, but I can only very rarely try new flavors or test for quality. I have to rely on my other senses so much that it becomes upsetting. I can still eat the GF donuts we make, but they're basically just donut shaped cake and not the same. Good, but not the same.
I guess I'm technically still a wife, but only on paper.
A lot changed, and you know what? I fucking relapsed.
Hard.
Not for long, but. . oh man. When it isn't safe health-wise to just grab something, anything, to eat, and you have a restrictive type eating disorder, food becomes an enemy. No, worse than an enemy, it becomes an abusive lover.
I LOVE food. I like trying new things and exploring cuisine I haven't explored before. I used to believe in trying everything once. . . and now that might mean a week of GI pain and an abnormal amount of pooping (sorry guys, but that's how it is). I'm still figuring out all the restrictions and what really affects me and what I can eat in moderation without symptoms.
But I can tell you this: I won't be doing any food tours of the world. I can't. Traveling now feels like an almost impossible feat. Camping, I can do. I have total control over that menu. But if I have to rely on eating out? Forget it. I'll spend the whole time sick. I used to just suffer through the bloating and nausea and pain. I did it because I thought I had no other options. Now that I know I can live without that, I would like to. Inflammation in other parts of my body has decreased and I feel all around a lot better. When I actually avoid all the foods that bother me.
But the problem is when eating at all is a win, adding any level of difficulty is discouraging. It takes a difficult task and makes it feel impossible. I've lost a significant amount of weight this year. So noticeable that 3 people mentioned their concern, which is unusual because my friends and family know not to talk to me about my weight unless it's important. It can be triggering.
In this case though, it was a welcome spotlight on things that I was neglecting. Like eating regularly.
So my brief but intense relapse is coming to an end. . . And now I have to face the harsh reality that I have a lot of work ahead of me to accept this new set of food rules and to move on in a healthy way so I can move towards physical well-being.
I've totally lost my train of thought and not done any real writing at all, which is what I fully intended on doing. However, it's time to pack up from this cafe and head home.