So today is the anniversary of meeting Will. And I feel nothing. That’s the first time in 9 years I can say I haven’t felt anything. I had a bit of a temper tantrum last night, but that was largely unrelated. I’m giving myself a pass. We sorted it out and all is right with the world. I got to wake up next to someone I adore and who adores me right back. The cat actually let me pet her (in spite of the fact she used to be my cat). I dressed up. I know I’ve gotten a few sidelong looks because I’m in what amounts to a suit around here. I skipped the make up because I didn’t want to hide behind a mask. I had a cookie because I wanted a cookie. I didn’t judge myself for it. I’m ready to face the world, for better or worse, without hiding today. I actually thought a little bit about this last night. I have a choice. I can choose to rehash something I can’t do shit about or I can look on today as a fresh start. I can look at today with optimism and positive thoughts. I can treat today like any other day. I’m alive. I have a job I’m happy with and a boss I wouldn’t trade for the world. I live very comfortably. Given all the crap I’ve gone through since March, I’m kicking ass and taking names. Today is a chance to start over. Today doesn’t have to have the same hold on me it’s had in the past. I blow my past a kiss goodbye and look forward to what’s coming.
I’m not sure how I made it through 10 years in the dance community without developing some kind of eating disorder. Of course, I was always skinny through high school and early college. I’m not sure when it happened, but I started to develop bulimic tendencies. Not so much the binging and purging, but binging and restricting. Just like I was a binge drinker, I was a binge eater. Then I’ve gained and lost over 40 pounds in the past 6 years. Whenever the shit hits the fan, I see it crop up again. The weight loss from quitting drinking, anxiety, and getting up and around more has been a double edged sword. On the one hand, I love being thinner. I love seeing that number on the scale getting lower and lower. I love hearing people tell me how good I look. I love having to buy new clothes because the ones I have are too big. On the other hand, I can very quickly become obsessed with that number on a scale. I can begin to associate my value with that number. The higher it gets, the less worthy I am. I weighed myself this morning and I hit the arbitrary number that’s my “goal” weight. And I wanted it to get lower. Major red flag. Given I don’t have my other coping mechanisms, it’s not surprising this one is rearing its head. I can’t control driving laws, but I can control what I put in my body. Even if it’s not the ideal scenario. On a positive note, I noticed it earlier. It’s not something I can change with a snap of my fingers. It took time to develop, it’ll take time to dismantle. My therapist recommend taking it in small steps. When I feel it coming on, cut myself a little slack. Eat when I’m hungry, stop when I’m full. Don’t keep going or deny myself food because I should.
I seriously considered not eating real food until my high school reunion on Saturday night. I’m one of the few members of my class who hasn’t had kids and I wanted to look it. I remember reading somewhere that if you wanted to look less bloated, cut out dairy and wheat for a few days. Of course, the bulimic in me took it to the extreme. Only green smoothies for 3 days. I can only imagine how bitchy I’d be after one day. No one is going to notice if my lower stomach is a little puffy. I’ve already decided to hold off on trying the 30 day gluten free extravaganza. I don’t think that would be a very good idea right now given my stress level.
I’ve made a conscious effort to watch what I eat because of the epilepsy. Just by doing that, I cut out a lot of stuff I shouldn’t have been eating or drinking anyway. I’ll drink water most of the day. If it’s not water, then it’s tea before noon so I won’t disturb my sleep habits. I’ll have the odd latte or cappuccino. My Starbucks habit has been largely cut off because I’m not meeting my ride there 5 days a week. I try to have a green smoothie once a day. I’ve actually largely lost my tolerance for unhealthy food. I was craving Mexican food like nobody’s business yesterday. After scarfing down the burrito in record time, I felt quite literally horrible. My digestive system was like “Really?!”. Then I chased it with pasta and ice cream for dinner. Bad life choice. I’m a de facto vegetarian these days and can’t tolerate meat the way I used to either. Pretty much every recipe I’ve experimented with has been vegetarian. If we’re out at a restaurant, I’ll pick something vegetarian 9 times out of 10.
The irony of the situation is aside from the epilepsy, I’m actually very healthy. I had one of many doctor visits yesterday. My blood pressure, iron count, and pulse are all well within normal ranges. If anything, they’re on the lower end of within normal limits. I haven’t been walking as much this week because I’ve had to make up time at work, but generally, I get more exercise on a daily basis than I used to. A little tiny part of me is afraid I’ll gain all the weight back to self sabotage. I don’t want people (read-men) looking at me favorably because that means they’re not looking at me as a person, just a body. So I’ll gain it all back to ruin my attractiveness. I know that’s not true. That’s insulting to men who are perfectly decent human beings who respect me as a person. If they even notice at all.
I don’t need to live a life of extremes. I can be quite happy in the middle.