Part II - A continuation and a quote

Just a couple days ago I posted about how I am struggling again with food and the feelings that go along with that. Earlier today I was talking with my mum and came to a realization: this has been one hell of a year. It has been absolutely, completely crazy and there's a lot of pain that hasn't totally been acknowledged. There's a ton of stuff that has happened, and I've changed a lot. And I have spent the last two months avoiding spending any time alone, truly alone, because I can't handle thinking about it. I watch tv or work or volunteer or, most of all, I eat so that I don't have to think.

This realization left me crying and a little shaken. I started to make some tea (those Brits do have one thing right - tea helps) and picked up the book I just started reading yesterday, "How to be a Woman" by Caitlyn Moran. I recently heard her on a podcast debating gender issues, and having heard of the book earlier decided to give it a read. She is a strident feminist (her words), comedian, and a brutally honest look at life in today's world. And she wrote  this in her chapter called "I Am Fat!":

"No -- I'm talking about those for whome the whole idea of food is not one of pleasure, but one of compulsion. For whom the thoughts of food, and the effects of food, are the constant, dreary background static to normal thought. Those who think about lunch while eating breakfast, and pudding as they eat chips; who walk into the kitchen in a state bordering on panic and breathlessly eat slice after slice of bread and butter -- not tasting it, not even chewing -- until the panic can be drowned in an almost meditative routine of chewing and swallowing, spooning and swallowing.

In this trancelike state, you can find a welcome, temporary relief from thinking for 10, 20 minutes at a time, until finally a new set of sensations -- physical discomfort and immense regret -- make you stop, in the same way you finally pass out on whisky or dope. Overeating, or comfort eating, is the cheap, meek option for self-satisfaction, and self-obliteration. You get all the temporary release of drinking, fucking, or taking drugs but without -- and I think this is the important bit -- ever being left in a state where you can't remain responsible and cogent.

...

Overeating is the addiction of choice of carers, and that's why it's come to be regarded as the lowest-ranking of all the addictions. It's a way of fucking yourself up while still remaining functional, because you have to. Fat people aren't indulging in the "luxury" of their addiction making the useless, chaotic, or a burden. Instead they are slowly self-destructing in a way that doesn't inconvenience anyone."

It isn't perfect in how it discusses addictions - but it is perfect in how it describes me. It's exactly right and exactly what I've been doing.

Now I need to go think about this with my tea and some time.

Self Control

A little over a year ago my doctor encouraged me to try Weight Watchers - I have been obese my entire life and we had been talking for a long time about doing something about it. A week after starting I was diagnosed as pre-diabetic. That was enough to set things into stone for me - I was not going down that road. I started running again, did the program, and by June had lost a little over 60lbs.

Then I moved to England, and stopped making healthy choices. I told myself it was an adjustment period and kept trying to get back on track but it never happened. Then everything* went down and this became not a priority. I came back to Edmonton and kept being a day away from getting back on track. Except I've just gotten further and further away from that metaphorical track - and about 15 lbs away from where I had been. I have gone back to the point where I have no control over food, where I feel food has constant control over me. Every night I regret my choices - it's not about being a size 2 or something, it's about how crappy my body feels having not the right stuff put into it. It's about feeling good and in control and liking what I saw in the mirror. It's about not having a heart attack at a young age or having sugar problems.

Today was another day that started with every intention of making healthy choices, and ended with more than one binge having occured. I will admit I came dangerously close to becoming bulemic at one point before starting the healthier stuff last year - I have always binged, but I reached a point where I would feel so gross that throwing up was the only thing that helped.

God I've never admitted that to more than one or two people. I think my mum and one friend are all that I've told. Yeah. So that happened. And I feel like I'm back on the road there. I feel like I have no control, and like I can't stop the spiral.


It's crazy what happens when you sit down to write. I totally planned to take this in a different direction. I was going to talk about focusing on all the great stuff in my life (my job, my friends, my family, my sweet little apartment, my cat) versus the not great stuff (eating issues, money trouble, and being lonely). For those of you who think I plan out these blog entries or have any control over what I say - ha!

Though that's the problem isn't it? Control. I swear I used to have it. I have no idea where it went - possibly the toxoplasmosis I swear I must have gotten from Quirk has done away with it? - but it's gone.


Okay. Wrangling thoughts back together. I need to get this under control - I worked too hard to go back to the unhealthy relationship with food I had and am returning to. I really don't have time for meetings or anything like that, but I think it's time to reach out online for some support. I keep thinking it should be easy to just snap back into a routine, but it's not. I've come up with a million theories as to why it's gotten bad again (fear of rejection, trying to start a regiment with too many restrictions instead of easing in, lack of kitchen supplies/equipment, and so on) and a million plans for fixing it (goals, rewards, crazy schemes) but I think it's time to simply admit that I need help. And to make myself a priority again.

Help and priorities. Easy right? Let's give this a try...



*I assume if you are reading this you know the story. If not - archives! Tired of telling it.

On 2013

Every year around this time social networking sites start to pop up with little "year in review" surveys and apps. I always feel frivolous doing them, but I also think it's important to take the mile markers given us, such as New Year's, to look back and see where we've been and where we've ended up. So I usually give in and participate.

This year I decided to do my own retrospective instead of letting someone else set the tone and direction. But first, a little bit of personal musing on an issue I'm facing. It does go back to what seems to be a major theme in this year - choice. I have a choice between two jobs that I love equally and to most people it seems an obvious one. When there are two jobs you love and you have a chance to move from the one that pays less to the one that pays more it should be an easy move to make. Right? But there are things holding me back that I just can't stop going back to. Why is it so hard to let go of being needed and feeling wanted?


Anyways. Back to the year in review. It has been another big year in my life with a lot happening. I feel like I said the same thing last year - I keep waiting for that part of my life where the years start to slide by without being so dramatic.

So what happened this year?

I applied for graduate school, but the program put a moratorium on admissions. How different my path would have become had that not happened - probably fewer downs but I suspect fewer ups as well.

I decided to make my health a priority and managed to make some really positive changes (and get some really positive results). Mind you I then stopped making it a priority and started reversing the changes. I still have a lot of things to work on.

I travelled overseas for the first time (other than a trip to California when I was 7) and fell in love with the world out there.

I then took it a step further and moved overseas. I learned a lot about myself in doing so - that I can adapt better than I feared, that I can meet people and have fun, but most of all that I have very deep roots in Edmonton. I also learned that my values are important to me, that I still have to consider depression part of my life, and that I know when it is time to walk away from a bad situation. I reached a point of despair I have not felt for a long time, but I pulled myself out of it after removing the triggers.

I also got a tattoo. I know that one is silly and trivial compared to the rest, but it still seems important to me.

I went to Scotland twice. Again, silly but a big thing to me. I love Scotland.

I started over, again, and built a life that looks more like the one I want to be living. I'll probably crack at some point because I am living just under the line between busy and overwhelmed, but that's where I like to live.

I made new friends, strengthened bonds with old ones, and let go of some that weren't what I wanted in my life.

I touched some lives - I don't mean to sound vain or egotistical but I helped people learn and got a lot of gratitude in return. I talked openly about mental illness in a way that got a very positive and emotional response from people. I worked on my goal of having a net positive impact - and I think I made some progress.

I didn't fall in love, though there were some promising incidents. I'm still waiting on that one. Until then I have Quirk to keep me company and make me smile. And she is now one well-travelled kitty.

I love the life I have landed in. I am poor and stressed and sometimes lonely but I also get to be me. I have wonderful people in my life, jobs I love, a great family, and a good understanding of myself. And even a blog that a few people read and reply to. And I'm excited to see where the next mile takes me.