Tag Archives: self love

It’s Not a Big Deal

This post has been bouncing around in my head for about a month now but I’ve been having trouble getting just inspired enough to actually write it. However I finally decided to the other night as I was thinking about something while lying in bed, trying to fall asleep. I had made chicken pot pie noodles for Jeff and I to eat for dinner, and I ate one helping. Then I put my bowl in the dishwasher, and went about my evening. I didn’t eat a dessert either. But the difference is – none of these things were endlessly debated. None of them were done out of punishment. I actually didn’t think about them at all. And that’s because I’m finally realizing that food is actually not a big deal.

There was a time when I’d think all day about the dinner I was going to eat, and worry about if I’d have more than one helping, and if I’d want a dessert. Then dinnertime would come and I’d eat a helping, want to eat another (because I’d starved myself all day), debate eating another, finally do it, feel like crap, and beat myself up. But then my mind would shift to dessert and I’d think about ice cream in the freezer, and wonder for another half hour if I should eat it, and finally decide that it was OK to have a little since I hadn’t had any in the last week.

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New Normal

As I started to write this post, and fill in the title, it sounded familiar to me. So I entered “new normal” into the search term field on my own blog, and this post came up…from November of 2013. Back then I was still living in Connecticut, on the hunt for a new job but with 90+ Cellars and Boston nowhere in sight. Reading the post now is funny. In it I feel guilty for some pretty silly things, and reassure myself by basking in habits that I now no longer have. It’s really kind of sad to read, but I know it was all part of the recovery process.

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I had Columbus Day off yesterday, so Jeff and I went over to Night Shift Brewery, which encourages bringing your own food. So we brought Wendy’s. I went to a half hour bootcamp that morning, but didn’t think twice about the fact that I “only” worked out for half an hour and was eating fast food. I ordered what I wanted. I stopped when I was full (which happened to be when all my food was gone). There was no mental agonizing over that fact. There was no carb counting. There was just me enjoying a gorgeous fall day off with my boyfriend. Though critical thoughts about my body and eating/workout habits are still present, they are so much easier now to push out of my head, and move past. This is my current new normal.

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Letting Go of Old Clothes

It has been quite awhile since I wrote a post related to eating disorders and recovery. There was a time when that was almost all I wrote about here; a time when I was really struggling. Slowly after moving to Boston I began to do better and better, and the recovery related posts became less frequent. Particularly since this past summer, I have made lots of progress. I’ve taken more rest days than ever and realized that didn’t make me gain 50 pounds. I’ve been able to spend more time with friends and meet new people too, since I’ve been doing less hiding out in my apartment with my “safe foods”. I’ve even been able to let myself open up to someone and enter a serious relationship.

Jeff and I are actually moving in together over Memorial Day Weekend, and moving often presents a perfect opportunity to get rid of unwanted and unneeded possessions. Most notably, clothes. Many who have gone through recovery from an eating disorder will know that clothes are a touchy subject. They become too small, and that’s hard to deal with. Every article of clothing that will no longer fit still makes me feel like a bit of a failure, even if that feeling lasts just a few seconds. I have been holding onto these clothes, because setting them aside to donate makes me feel like I am giving up on being as small as I once was.

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Getting “Beach Ready”

This Thursday morning I take off for a four-day trip to Mexico to watch one of my closest friends, Rachel, marry the love of her life. And just like my last warm-weather-vacation, I’ve spent the weeks leading up to this one worrying about the whole bikini thing. But unlike my last vacation, which took place in March, I’m bombarded with the “get-beach-body-ready” messages that are so common this time of year. (Oh, and I’m pretty sure I weigh a few pounds more than I did on that last trip.)

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Just Say No

I’m coming off another weekend on the road, this one spent in Knoxville, Tennessee to watch my little sister Hannah graduate from the University of Tennessee! I am exhausted, and bummed that my work day doesn’t end until 9PM tonight, but am so also glad that I made the trip south to celebrate with my sister and see my family and our friends as well.

Despite the fact that I handled this Tennessee trip better than either of the last two I have taken, I still dealt with the usual anxiety over drinking more than usual, out-of-routine food, and working out less. However I also realized that I didn’t drink or eat a huge amount more than I would lately on a weekend, and the rest day I took was the one per week that I’ve gotten used to taking (and sometimes it’s two).

Manhattans and fried pickles aren’t unordinary weekend occurrences nowadays.

That in itself is perhaps a sign of progress in my journey to stop punishing myself via restriction and overexercising, but more so comes back to my concern that I’ve really been overdoing it lately and need to reel it back in.

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Five Pounds

You may recall the “incident” when I went to a new doctor in Boston in mid-May, and peeked at my weight. I felt relieved at that time, because it wasn’t as high as my catastrophic-thinking-mind had thought it’d be.

Now a little less than four months later it was time to go back to the doctor yesterday morning and check in. And as much as I tried not to look at the scale, I caught a glimpse of my weight on the computer screen after the physician’s assistant had typed it in – and I felt my heart drop into my stomach.

Five pounds. That is how much higher the weight was, after a little less than four months.

The doctor came in and, while looking over my vitals, commented that my weight looked good. I gave a little snort and she looked at me inquisitively. I said I didn’t feel that it looked that good and she said to me, “Well, you gained weight. Now you’re at the low end of normal BMI. And to be honest, you look better now than you did when I first saw you.”

But I didn’t really care about any of that and none of it made me feel better. The thoughts in my mind told me that the best looking people are not a normal BMI, they are a lower BMI. They have less body fat than what is “healthy”. It’s often hard for me to take compliments that I look “better” or “healthy” or “good” because to me that just screams “NOT SKINNY”.

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Wouldn’t It Be Nice…

I made marvelous memories this past weekend but I also spent much of it in a negative funk with too much focus on body image, guilt, fear, comparison traps, and myself in general. The idea for this post popped up in my head yesterday I was taking a walk after the gym and feeling bad for leaving Zumba class halfway through because it was causing lots of pain in my shin.

Because, wouldn’t it be nice…

…if rest could be viewed as a component of a workout/training plan, and not a break from it?

…if putting on pants wasn’t something that needed to be preceded by a pep talk?

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Whale of a Time

I had so much fun at Saturday’s Boston Rose Cruise (check out Kat’s recap too!) – a whale-sized (aka large) amount of fun. Not only did Kat come to Boston to join me, my 90+ Cellars co-workers, and Eventbrite ticket-buyers for the three-hour Rose-only all-pink-wearing boat cruise, but my mom, sister, Greg, and Jen did as well!

MY PEOPLE! (Photo by Sean Fowler.)

MY PEOPLE! (Photo by Sean Fowler.)

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What I’m “Allowed”

This is a post that’s been weighing on the back of my mind for awhile now and on the front of my mind the entire Memorial Day weekend. I’m still struggling with recovery and what it means in terms of what I’m “allowed” to feel about my body, or what I’m “allowed” to do about my body if my feelings about it are not so favorable. I continue to have great weekends and attend fun events in Boston – and when I go home! I continue to do a pretty good job of not depriving myself. But I also continue to feel as if my body is changing in ways I strongly dislike (dare I say hate), as a result of all that lack of deprivation. I feel like my lack of deprivation is actually overdoing it. I feel as if I’m on the opposite end of the spectrum now, and my body shows it. I feel so uncomfortable in my own skin. I feel gross. I feel disgusting. Last night I met up with Jen for a patio drink to conclude our holiday weekend, and I wore a dress I purchased back on Black Friday 2011. It felt so tight on me, and I felt like I was busting out of it. I felt self-conscious and wished I was wearing something more bag-like. I kept mentally pulling up in my mind photos of me in the same dress when I wore it in Orlando in March 2012, or at the Mohegan Sun BrewFest later that same year.

Before dinner with my parents, in Orlando.

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I Peeked

I’ve told my scale story in the past. I haven’t had any plans to step on a scale in quite awhile. I haven’t even felt tempted. But last week during a visit to the doctor, after I stepped on the scale backwards and asked the nurse not to tell me my weight, I began to wonder. And once we got to the examination room and she set the clipboard down, I couldn’t resist a sudden urge to look over at the paper where she’d written down my weight. And I peeked.

So I saw how much I weighed, and I actually breathed a sigh of relief. Because in my mind, since I’ve been feeling as if I go out too often and don’t work out enough, I felt sure that I’d gained a significant amount of weight. I often find myself hating the way my pants feel, and without a scale in my life, that’s been my personal measure of body change. But the number I saw wasn’t as high as I’d assumed it’d be. And that made me happy.

Today’s shorts – I used to absolutely need a belt with these (last summer) but now I can get away with not wearing one. I’ve definitely noticed.

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