Video Catch-Up

A little behind providing you with the Wednesday videos, guys. Sorry about that. They are always up religiously on Wednesdays, but I sometimes forget to post them here too.

Here are my last 2 Wednesday videos. Topics are "What I Tell Others" and "High Expectations" respectively. I specifically recommend this week's video, in which I talk about dealing with our own high expectations, how to cut ourselves some slack, how to not set ourselves up for failure, and how to work with these expectations we've set for ourselves. It's something so many people struggle with and I'm glad I got to touch on it.

HIGH EXPECTATIONS



WHAT I TELL OTHERS

Question # 14: Eating with Others

Question # 14 comes from an Anonymous Commenter. Anonymous writes:

"How can I stay with people when I've eaten? I feel so... dirty! It makes me anxious. It makes me cry..."

I can't tell you how many people I know or know OF who feel the exact same way. If nothing else, this question should serve to make you feel less alone.

Here's something to try. Examine the situation. Why does it make you feel so dirty? Is it because you are ashamed? Because you're being watched? Because you're uncomfortable? Because you want to get rid of what you've eaten? Because you wish you hadn't eaten it? Because you feel smothered when you're not alone? Because you dislike the way the food in your body makes you feel? WHAT IS IT?

Try to tap into the feeling. What is it that makes you feel so dirty? Once you can pinpoint why you feel the way you do, you can start to do something about. You can start to train yourself to think differently or feel differently.

I suggest keeping a food journal--but not of how much you've eaten. Try keeping a journal of what you eat, when you eat, and who you eat with--and the emotions you feel in relation to each scenario. If you notice patterns, you can start to work with them. You can start to change the reality of your situations. If you notice that you feel "dirtier" or more "anxious" with a certain person or with a certain crowd, you can delve deeper and examine why that is. What is it about that person or those people that makes you feel uncomfortable eating with them?

If you notice you feel "dirtier" or more "anxious" at certain times of the day, say at dinner with people opposed to at breakfast with people, you can start to delve deeper and figure out what this means, what this signifies, and how to work through it.

If you notice you feel "dirtier" or more "anxious" when eating certain foods, you can experiment and see what alleviates the situation.

In short, it's about way more than just eating. There is something mentally going on here that makes you feel "dirty" and "anxious," that makes you cry.

The second you think it's all because of food or all because of the act of eating, you are relinquishing some power over to your eating disorder. You are being fooled. Go within. Go deeper. If you need to ask yourself the sort of questions I asked above, then do it. And start now.

That's the first part. You can watch one of my older videos about this here. It's actually a response to a question opposite this (those who find it easier to eat with others), but I touch on a lot of the same things and explain my points in detail. It relates a lot.)

The second part is to come up with reasons to stay. List the reasons to stay with people once you've eaten. This is something you want to beat and to do so, you have to have a plan. You have to have valid reasons.

Reasons to stay:
-the people you're eating with care about you
-you are one step ahead of your eating disorder if you stay with them after eating
-you give yourself a chance to act "normal" and put other issues aside
-you miss out on conversation if you leave
-you isolate yourself the more you leave after a meal or in the middle of a meal
-the more you STAY, the more you will be able to fight that "dirty," "anxious" feeling

Try, try, try, and then try again. I know it sounds difficult, and I know it's much easier said than done, but don't discount it.

Fighting, Facing--and Finally Embracing--Food

Let me take a moment here to talk about food. Yes, that’s right: food.

In the wild ride that is life, some of us seek to find control in food. We use it to make ourselves feel better or worse. We restrict. We binge. We purge. We deprive. We use. Why food? Well, that’s the question, isn’t it? It’s just like anything else—some people use alcohol. Some use drugs. Some use exercise. Some use video games.

Addictions. Vices. Habits. Whatever they are—whatever you want to call them—they can be self-destructive. It takes time, patience, effort, and desire, but we can learn to co-exist with the very things that make us crazy or take us on a downward spiral into pain and emptiness.

There were times in my life I fasted for days, consuming nothing but water or diet Coke. There were days when I’d allow myself a mere granola bar to get my body moving for an entire morning, afternoon, and evening. I had moments of ravenous hunger where I’d eat a salad or a bowl of soup with such ferocity that I was afraid people would notice. Sometimes, as I went between wanting to recover and wanting to wallow in my disease, I’d eat one meal a day—dinner—which was not nearly enough to satisfy my deprived body and mind. I remember summers of living on rice cakes at night after a 12 hour day of work.

I did not have a good relationship with food.

When I taught at the Boys and Girls Club and supervised the kids at lunch time, I would eat my packed lunch with a dedication I’d never experienced before (and it was rough), because I didn’t want to set a bad example for the little girls who were sitting there with me. I wanted to be good and real and helpful. I ate for them.

I remember pretending to go out for food on my dinner break when I worked at the mall and coming back with just a Sprite. I remember obvious habits that caused my parents to scream at me, cry for me, and feel helpless. I used to have a lifestyle that made my room mate crazy with worry. I was obsessively worried about eating in public. I would stand near a counter of muffins, deciding for ten minutes which one I would choose, changing my mind back and forth. I was, in short, a mess.

I came to a crossroads. I really wanted to recover. Really wanted to be all right. Really really wanted it. Wasn’t just wishing, wasn’t just hoping—I was willing to do something about it. I was willing to work, to learn, to try.

I got good at just saying “No.” That’s right: “No.” When I’d feel that familiar grip of anorexia, I’d say, “No.” Figuratively, literally, whatever it took. I was bold with myself—with my disease. I did not take shit. When I was feeling low, I’d do something good to pick myself up. I learned to cope without using food. When I felt myself slipping, I’d say, “No.” I’d push the disorder away, say I didn’t want it, and I’d say, “NO.” Sounds simple, and it is. But you can’t just go about it half-assed. You have to scream it, mean it, use it like a weapon. You’re better than all the crap bringing you down. Remember that and just say “NO” when you feel you’re being pulled in the wrong direction. It takes a lot of willpower. More willpower than it takes to starve.

I wrote. Oh, I wrote. Daily. I used my writing to help me, to save me, to direct me. I stopped using food to control and to deprive. I stopped using food as something mental. I tried to embrace it. It was difficult. I didn’t like it.

Then, I forgot about food. I focused on my eating disorder for what it was without the elements of food. There was so much more to my problems other than food. I mean, come on, food doesn’t have the ability to destroy.

I learned about myself, sought to love myself, wrote about my pain and my feelings, wrote about my struggles. I began to feel better. I began to stop counting. This was tough—to forget about sizes, forget about calories, forget about a number on a scale. I didn’t weigh myself. I had no scale. I did this purposely. It was weird and it was hard. I wanted to weigh myself. But I didn’t have a scale. I kept wanting to weigh myself. It went on, but I had no scale. And eventually, I stopped wanting to weigh myself. It didn’t matter. An inkling of curiosity wasn’t the same as an aching need.

I still don’t weigh myself.

I don’t care now.

You can get to that point—to that point where it doesn’t matter—but you have to work at it. You have to be strong and not allow yourself to give in. And in time you will be okay. You won’t be a slave to a device that conquers your mood and your sense of well-being. And let me tell you, without a number to dictate your daily mood, you begin to listen to yourself and to how you feel without that number. You know yourself as you never knew her before. You feel good. You feel free. You begin to finally see that you feel so good that there is no way you’d ever want to go back to that dark, horrible place you were before. You want out with a passion when before you just wanted out with a desperation.

I was eating. And I was trying not to think about it much. It was necessary, but not enjoyable. I was okay with it as long as I didn’t think on it too long. I had moments of worry and panic, moments of stress and distaste, but I got through. I just plodded through. Food and I were still not friends. But we were no longer enemies.

I trudged on, doing well, but worrying that I might relapse into old ways. I gained weight, but instead of being horrified by the way I looked, I appreciated the curves that were slowly showing themselves. The mirror was—strangely, I thought—more of a friend to me when I had put on some pounds than it was when I was sickly thin and longing to be thinner. I felt good, so I looked good. I was learning to love my body. It was fascinating, liberating, and astounding. I felt like a different person.

I surrounded myself with the right people, I tried to stop worrying about what others would think. This was a big one. I still have to remind myself not to concern myself with what others think. It’s not easy. But it’s possible. If I couldn’t stop myself from worrying what they might think, I tried at least not to spend too much time on it. As I grew to be happy with myself as a person and as a woman, I found that I was content to cook food and eat it. More than that—I enjoyed cooking. And I enjoyed eating what I’d taken the time to make. It took me a while to get over the shock of this.

It remains the same. I like to cook and I like to eat. Yes, you heard me correctly: I like to eat. I eat when I’m hungry. I stop when I’m full. I enjoy letting myself enjoy. I cook for my fiancé (husband in one more month!) and he loves it and appreciates it, which is so nice. He cooks for me. We eat together. We nourish. We’re healthy.

So how can a girl/woman who suffered from anorexia and had such an unbearable relationship with food come to love it and live with it? Well, I just told you. But words on a page are not actions, and the actions are much harder to accomplish than writing the words. And don’t forget that it doesn’t happen overnight. It can take years.

You have to try it for yourself…when you’re ready…but I can tell you one thing: It’s worth it.

Arielle

The Holidays are Upon Us

To all:

The holiday season can be a tough season. It's often full of family, food, and obsessive behavior. I'm writing this to let you know I understand. The holidays can make you squirm and wake up full of dread each morning. But you know what?

They're not supposed to. That's not what the holidays are all about.

They're about a thousand things and none of those things should be negative or unhealthy or depressing. The question is: how do you get yourself into the right mindset?

You have to psych yourself up for it. You have to be positive and remain positive despite all the negativity you might feel closing in on you. You have to worry about YOU and not about others. I know it's hard--many times those "others" are your family or your close friends and you feel conflicted or manipulated or overwhelmed. Those feelings are okay and completely natural. All feelings are--because they're what you FEEL and they are honest. But you've got to do what's best for yourself and sometimes that means thinking only of yourself at a given point in time.

I know it might sound strange--me telling you to think of yourself during the holidays, when everything else out there promotes goodwill toward the less fortunate and giving to others besides yourself--but you have to consider that if you are first good to yourself, you will much more easily be able to be good to others. You have to start with yourself and go from there. It sounds so simple and so difficult at the same time, doesn't it?

I once had an aunt comment on what I was eating at a family holiday dinner. I had put some things on my plate and had handed it to her so she could add something to it that was nearest to her. "That's not YOUR plate, is it?" she'd said.

I just looked at her.

"I mean, you don't eat all that, do you?" she asked.

It didn't matter why she said it or what she meant by it. It was too late; the damage had been done. She'd gotten the message from my silence that I was shocked she'd say such a thing to me (for at the time, I was very very thin), but when my plate was handed back to me I didn't feel like eating. I'm sure she had no idea what she'd done to me with that short conversation. But there was a lot wrong with that conversation.

For one, she'd drawn attention to my eating. Second, she'd commented on the amount. Third, she was clearly surprised which made me question myself and what I was ready to eat.

In short, that small incident completely ruined my day. And if I'd had the right mindset at the time, it wouldn't have. Now, I know there are situations you will all deal with over the holidays that will be worse than that...or even less severe than that...that will irk you, upset you, and make you miserable. This was just an example. The point is: don't let it upset you.

As usual, it's easier said than done. But all you have to do is TRY. Just try. When something upsetting happens, or you see or hear or feel something that triggers you to do whatever self-destructive or eating disordered behavior you typically fall back on, DON'T DO IT. Don't let it get the better of you. Don't give in to pain and sadness and frustration. Use your anger or your emotions to build yourself up. Do what's healthy and what is good for you. Be good to yourself. Think of yourself. Don't think of someone else's comments or the way someone else looks. Don't think of all the food and how you shouldn't eat it. Don't think of the obsessive behaviors that may have become natural to you. Think of you and the child you once were that is still a part of you. And give her/him what she/he wants. You are allowed to indulge. You are allowed to nurture. You are allowed to FEEL GOOD. You are allowed to BE HAPPY.

Really.

Write a note to yourself. A short one, a long one, a sentence, a few words, or whatever you want. But write a note to yourself that is positive, that quickly reiterates that you can get through things. Maybe it will say: YOU CAN DO IT! YOU ARE STRONGER THAN YOU GIVE YOURSELF CREDIT FOR! Or maybe it will simply say: IT'S OKAY. But whatever it is, write it. To yourself. On an actual piece of paper. And keep it. And put it in your coat pocket, or your purse, or your wallet, or something you almost always have with you. And when you're dealing with some holiday stress or you're feeling overwhelmed, take it out briefly and look at it. Reassure yourself. You will thank yourself later. Maybe later that day. Maybe later that month. Maybe later that year. Or maybe even years from now. But you will thank yourself.

Do you really want to have miserable holiday season? Or one filled with grief, obsessing, nervousness, anxiety, pain, etc? Of course you don't. And you don't deserve to. You deserve all the good things the holidays can bring. I know you can't get rid of all those bad feelings and behaviors in one day--or in one holiday season. But you can START.

Start now. Start with THIS holiday.

Best of luck to you all. You can do it!

Arielle

The Happiest Girl in the World

Wrote this almost 3 years ago in a reflective mood. It's not much, but it does speak for the way I was feeling at the time, and I know that many can relate to it. It's fairly self-explanatory, so I won't dilute it with a preface.

Genuinely listen

And you will see me there,

Eyes connected to ears

As always

Like in the days of the past

When I thought I was the

Happiest girl in the world.

Remedial treatment

For my worn little heart,

Bandaged and battered

And I flip the page

Because I don’t want

To see what’s written there.

Bounding out of the house

And up the tree,

Like a scampering creature

And not a girl,

I remember being fascinated

By the audience I saw

In the people that passed me on the street.

Brazen beaten blue eyes,

Characterized by flecks of blurry beauty,

Media-nurtured and alarmed

At the magic I found within myself.

Brown hair flowing from my head

As I looked in the mirror,

“Raw deal” I said, “raw deal.”

Don’t they always go for blondes?

No faith in my future of love,

I could not laugh.

My skinny limbs seemed pretty,

But my dark curls seemed wasteful.

Who would touch them? Like them?

Don’t they always go for blondes?

Hopeless little assailant, always beating on herself.

In later years the small breasts

Were just the icing on the cake.

And then, like a woman being

Cranked out of the tiny form of a girl,

I began to see that I was adequately recognized

And pleasantly perceived.

But it took too long.

So Damn Beautiful Rant

I wrote this about 2 and a half years ago. It's a quick, honest, and blunt rant of a poem. I allowed myself to speak freely and recognize what it was I was feeling and saying. With each line I gained momentum, and by the end, the last lines were like smacking myself in the head as I saw what I had been saying the whole time.

I’m so damn beautiful

That I think I’m ugly.

That said, the spirit of me

Is hard to contain.

Girl, you’ll be a woman soon.

Woman, you’ll be a girl again.

Remember to reinforce me,

Jealousy is natural,

I have done nothing wrong.

I declare my sentiments:

I’m so damn beautiful

That I think I’m wrong.

Multi-generational packs of women

Stare at me because I’m me.

They don’t know I’m beautiful.

They don’t know I’m ugly.

They ratify against me,

Volunteer to fix me,

Wish they were like me.

I lament the prevalence of me,

Wish I was smaller,

Less less less,

Hidden away from everyone.

I’m so damn beautiful

That I think I’m crazy.

I lament the lack of me,

Wish I was bolder,

More more more,

Ubiquitous and flashy.

I’m so damn beautiful

That I think I’m ugly.

I buy right into the eyes

That search me out

And strive to dissipate

My sense of humor.

The tip of the iceberg:

I’m so damn beautiful

That I think I’m not me.