Recovery... What does that word even mean?! I can tell you this; the words easy, fun, reliable, joyous and The. Best. Ever! Will not be descriptors of Recovery, I'm sorry, they just won't be. Messy, chaotic, emotional and frustrating are more likely to fit the mold. It's the most uncomfortable, confusing thing ever. The process in itself sucks in my opinion. Just when you think you're doing kinda okay... You're suddenly, without warning or excuse, kinda REALLY not okay. There is no Recovery for Dummies manual to read and adhere to. There are no rules, no shoulds, shouldas or shouldnts. People will tell you to just eat, just don't throw up, just don't exercise, just love life, just be okay and just get better already. Some will tell you they know best, that you are too far in it to make a good decision and you should listen to them. Some will leave you alone and let you make your own decisions. Either one may or may not work for you. What I'm trying to say is... You're path won't look like mine and mine won't look like yours. What works for someone may not work for someone else. The most important thing...? Follow our own individual path, find what works for us, above all else, find the drive within our heart to do better for our own lives. To give ourselves the love we deserve even though most of the time we don't believe we deserve anything remotely great at all.
I've chosen a path that is maybe a little less conventional. Writing is my release. I have more paper notebooks than any single person should own with sporadic writings in all of them. Oddly, not a single notebook is completed. I hit a point where writing for only myself was getting me nowhere and decided to lay my heart and soul on the line for the world to see. It has been my saving grace I think. I don't so much talk freely in person about all this, my blog has allowed me to talk without having to speak.
I can't explain why it helps so much, I'm not sure I even understand it, all I know is that I'm not laying on my bathroom floor curled up in the fetal position everyday crying, afraid to leave my house except to go to work. With that being said, it's still hard to leave every day. I've had a small glimpse into life enjoyment this last year and that is what is keeping me afloat for now.
Afloat... Maybe we can use that word loosely.
My chosen route through this has been a struggle for others in my life. It's hard to make people understand my not wanting to do some things and wanting to do others when it comes to treatment. Treatment is an intensely scary thing, something I'll touch on another day, and that I'm not ready for. It's been a slow process for some to handle and at times for me as well. What matters to me though is that I want recovery sometimes, and sometimes is better than never. The somewhat small successes I have had don't get the praise they deserve because contradictory, they are serious failures in my eyes in the moment. I know though that that's Ed's voice knocking me down and my selfish reasons for not wanting to give up my eating disorder for good. It's only when I can look back on weeks, months and sadly, years, that I see I'm not in the same low place I once was. I get really angry everyday that I'm not better, but it's the simple reminder to myself that after 15 years of being effected by Ed, I can't expect to be better today. I'm learning to find the fine line between needing to stay inside away from the world and needing to go out and walk for hours. I'm learning who's voice is speaking, mine or Ed's, and which one to listen to. I'm learning that today I'm good but tomorrow I may be back crying on the bathroom floor. That my next post may be how horribly horrible all this is and how I'll never get better and that I downed a box of diet pills and spent my entire day exercising, and the post after that will be how motivated I am to recover. I'm learning that recovery is a contradiction in itself. That recovery can't be defined at all. I'm learning... And for now... That's what matters.
I'd also like to mention sharing, in any form, is therapy. When you can't be kind to yourself, getting your secret out results in kind words from others. It just so happens I was pleasantly surprised when I read a comment on a previous post today. I don't know them but that's what the best thing about it is. I needed to read that comment at that moment. Reading the kind words from an anonymous stranger makes me realize there are some pretty fantastic people out there. So to whoever you are, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for caring and believing. And seeing what I can't yet.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Media Hurts
I don't know whether I should tell you that I haven't made myself throw up once in about a month, or that today all that ended in a very premeditated, violent, angry way. Maybe all that truly matters is the "why" it all came to a halt.
I feel if for a few minutes it was possible to silence the world around us, our insecurities would still be what was screaming in our ears without the outside noise validating our every negative thought. We are, after all, essentially our own worst critics, so once you add in all that we witness or hear we tend to doubt ourselves more often in a day then we praise ourselves. Now fill in all that silence with Magazines, Print Ads, Billboards, Retail Stores, Radio, TV, Co-workers, Relatives, Parents, Spouses, School, Work, Friends, Enemies and Strangers... In a simple, single day, all of these make us take a look back at ourselves and question... Am I good enough...? As if women (yes men too) aren't exposed and knocked down ten notches on the daily, the message we are sending to our youth is unbearably disgusting.
I've had a pretty difficult few days so this afternoon when I decided to walk into La Senza with a girlfriend, I should have listened to that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and turned right around. Unfortunately I'm no good at listening to myself and, well, I needed new underwear. Scanning through the store I noticed a common theme. The most widely accessible sizes on the walls, racks, and tables, were the smallest size with a bigger bust. "Normal" "Average" or "Bigger" were all stuck in drawers. Being use to things like this, I was trying my hardest to look past this detail. Then I noticed that 50% of the sizes that were out were a 30A. A size that I'm fairly certain did not even exist six months ago. I typically steer clear of underwear shopping so my timeline COULD be slightly incorrect. But I doubt it. Regardless, such a size would NATURALLY only fit a small undeveloped child of about ten, or... A person with an eating disorder. The question immediately on my mind to La Senza was; are they promoting child sexism or anorexia. Call me crazy but neither target market is proper. No 12 year old in my opinion needs a sexy lace push up bra. Encouraging such is encouraging children to be sexy women, not children. Since when are children suppose to be sexy? We need to teach these girls to be strong with their minds, education, drive, and ambition. That sex isn't the most important thing. More importantly, it teaches young boys to treat women as sex objects, and gives them a view of women that is so far from what it should be.
Secondly, if the target isn't young children (really, that may be giving La Senza too much credit) then we are telling women they need to be this thin. Any woman who walks into that store who is healthy will question if that is how small she should be. A girl walking into that store in recovery from an eating disorder or still suffering, an unhealthy size like this is going to keep them sick or revert them back to old tendencies. Maybe I'm speaking too boldly, that not every woman in the world is so easily influenced, but so so many of us are.
Further into the store I came across a highly suggestive picture of a model who couldn't have been older than 14 on a bed in pigtails and lingerie with a popsicle in her mouth and another sucking icing off her finger. Sorry, La Senza, but my giving you the benefit of the doubt that young girls aren't being sexually exploited in your store, came to a quick end right there.
So I have to ask, with all the pressure from the media that women need to be skinny to be beautiful, sexy to be adored, over the top to be seen; where are the warnings? People buy cigarettes with graphic warnings on the label about the effects of smoking. On the label of diet pills and ads are they going to let girls know the consequence of trying to be "perfect"?
WARNING: taking such diet pill, dieting, and forcing yourself to be "perfect" will cause depression, anxiety, obsession, addiction, severe self harm, and an abundance of hate for yourself. Participating in anorexic and bulimic behaviours will leave you with no friends, no life. You will become consumed and think of nothing but being pretty, skinny and perfect. You will become so deprived on everything you need it will be all you think about. In the end you will die because you killed yourself or your eating disorder did. Please take with caution. And remember... Smile so no one knows how sad you are.
It's all been so glamourized that no one thinks about or mentions the disturbing consequences. I speak so passionately about this because I don't think anyone should go through what I do every day. It's not worth it... It's just not. I have young female cousins that are subjected to this all the time and I can't bare the thought of them turning out like me. I'll fight tooth and nail for things to change for them.
Upon leaving the store and going to work... A co worker called me fat. Because people think that's funny to do. I walked home, and with every other step I took I told myself to purge. And with the other steps, I told myself no. After forcing the food I didn't want to see again down, I fought myself not to. But I had to. I had to feel better, to rid myself of the pain I felt today. Of the anger I have for society. Upon finishing dinner I read this...
Lady Gaga, a former sufferer of bulimia, with a huge following, tweets "just killed back to back spin classes. Eating a salad, dreaming of a cheeseburger. #popstarsdonteat #iwasbornthisway"
...and I knew that second my faith in society was gone for the day. The battle in my head was over and so was my month of "hard work".
...it felt like the first time I had ever purged again. It felt glorious and horrible. It felt so so right and so wrong. It felt like Ed in my soul.
It felt like love.
True love.
I feel if for a few minutes it was possible to silence the world around us, our insecurities would still be what was screaming in our ears without the outside noise validating our every negative thought. We are, after all, essentially our own worst critics, so once you add in all that we witness or hear we tend to doubt ourselves more often in a day then we praise ourselves. Now fill in all that silence with Magazines, Print Ads, Billboards, Retail Stores, Radio, TV, Co-workers, Relatives, Parents, Spouses, School, Work, Friends, Enemies and Strangers... In a simple, single day, all of these make us take a look back at ourselves and question... Am I good enough...? As if women (yes men too) aren't exposed and knocked down ten notches on the daily, the message we are sending to our youth is unbearably disgusting.
I've had a pretty difficult few days so this afternoon when I decided to walk into La Senza with a girlfriend, I should have listened to that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and turned right around. Unfortunately I'm no good at listening to myself and, well, I needed new underwear. Scanning through the store I noticed a common theme. The most widely accessible sizes on the walls, racks, and tables, were the smallest size with a bigger bust. "Normal" "Average" or "Bigger" were all stuck in drawers. Being use to things like this, I was trying my hardest to look past this detail. Then I noticed that 50% of the sizes that were out were a 30A. A size that I'm fairly certain did not even exist six months ago. I typically steer clear of underwear shopping so my timeline COULD be slightly incorrect. But I doubt it. Regardless, such a size would NATURALLY only fit a small undeveloped child of about ten, or... A person with an eating disorder. The question immediately on my mind to La Senza was; are they promoting child sexism or anorexia. Call me crazy but neither target market is proper. No 12 year old in my opinion needs a sexy lace push up bra. Encouraging such is encouraging children to be sexy women, not children. Since when are children suppose to be sexy? We need to teach these girls to be strong with their minds, education, drive, and ambition. That sex isn't the most important thing. More importantly, it teaches young boys to treat women as sex objects, and gives them a view of women that is so far from what it should be.
Secondly, if the target isn't young children (really, that may be giving La Senza too much credit) then we are telling women they need to be this thin. Any woman who walks into that store who is healthy will question if that is how small she should be. A girl walking into that store in recovery from an eating disorder or still suffering, an unhealthy size like this is going to keep them sick or revert them back to old tendencies. Maybe I'm speaking too boldly, that not every woman in the world is so easily influenced, but so so many of us are.
Further into the store I came across a highly suggestive picture of a model who couldn't have been older than 14 on a bed in pigtails and lingerie with a popsicle in her mouth and another sucking icing off her finger. Sorry, La Senza, but my giving you the benefit of the doubt that young girls aren't being sexually exploited in your store, came to a quick end right there.
So I have to ask, with all the pressure from the media that women need to be skinny to be beautiful, sexy to be adored, over the top to be seen; where are the warnings? People buy cigarettes with graphic warnings on the label about the effects of smoking. On the label of diet pills and ads are they going to let girls know the consequence of trying to be "perfect"?
WARNING: taking such diet pill, dieting, and forcing yourself to be "perfect" will cause depression, anxiety, obsession, addiction, severe self harm, and an abundance of hate for yourself. Participating in anorexic and bulimic behaviours will leave you with no friends, no life. You will become consumed and think of nothing but being pretty, skinny and perfect. You will become so deprived on everything you need it will be all you think about. In the end you will die because you killed yourself or your eating disorder did. Please take with caution. And remember... Smile so no one knows how sad you are.
It's all been so glamourized that no one thinks about or mentions the disturbing consequences. I speak so passionately about this because I don't think anyone should go through what I do every day. It's not worth it... It's just not. I have young female cousins that are subjected to this all the time and I can't bare the thought of them turning out like me. I'll fight tooth and nail for things to change for them.
Upon leaving the store and going to work... A co worker called me fat. Because people think that's funny to do. I walked home, and with every other step I took I told myself to purge. And with the other steps, I told myself no. After forcing the food I didn't want to see again down, I fought myself not to. But I had to. I had to feel better, to rid myself of the pain I felt today. Of the anger I have for society. Upon finishing dinner I read this...
Lady Gaga, a former sufferer of bulimia, with a huge following, tweets "just killed back to back spin classes. Eating a salad, dreaming of a cheeseburger. #popstarsdonteat #iwasbornthisway"
...and I knew that second my faith in society was gone for the day. The battle in my head was over and so was my month of "hard work".
...it felt like the first time I had ever purged again. It felt glorious and horrible. It felt so so right and so wrong. It felt like Ed in my soul.
It felt like love.
True love.
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