I Regret Everything

As most of you readers know, I’ve been struggling with a spectrum of eating disorders since an early age. I exhibited signs and symptoms of behavior from around 6, and actively began restricting knowing full-well what I was doing at age 11.

I’ve been in and out of treatment centers, inpatient, and have seen so many therapists and psychiatrists it’s a wonder I even think there’s hope for me at all. Especially on top of my many other ailments (both mental and physical).

Last September I started seeing an eating disorder therapist. In December she referred me to a psychiatrist. This has been my care team.

Today was the first time Matt came with me to a therapy appointment. I’m desperately trying to remember everything that I said.

For those of you who may not be aware, eating disorders are at least 95% lying and keeping secrets, avoiding the truth, over-justification, and investment in our own secret “safe” world inside our eating disorders. Some of us are more enmeshed in our secret eating disorder worlds than others. It’s to the point, after decades, that I literally do not know what’s my personality coming out or if it’s my eating disorder talking. About almost anything? I can make any life situation about how fat I am etc. And I always could! Not just since I’ve gained all this weight. All this fucking weight. How did I gain so much weight? “RECOVERY?!” You fat fucking joke.

I’m getting off track.

Today I spilled some secrets. Just last time I admitted to a friend that I’m not ready to give up my disorder. I don’t want to recover. I want to lose weight. Now that my eating disorder has swung from undereating and purging to overeating and purging it seems so hopeless.

My therapist tries to assure me that it’s a common swing, and actually confided in me that this means I never actually recovered when I thought I did. The disordered thoughts and thought patterns along with behaviors and mindsets followed me all this time and manifested itself differently over the years. So that’s real comforting, as you can imagine.

So what secrets did I spill? Big ones. My secret dinners. That when I joke around about food or “I went to the gym last week I deserve a treat” seemingly off-the-cuff jokes are really just me being good at making things normal and ok in appearance for what I think are others’ benefit.

I’ve talked about that wanting things to be normal before, too. In another post I qualified it with “I don’t want to be a drama queen” around friends, and I want to be seen as normal. Not broken. But…. I think I knew which side is showing its prevalence recently. Stupid fucking fatass piece of garbage.

Oops lost my train of thought.

I don’t want to let go of my secrets. Because once I start undereating full time again (restriction is easy until I feel pressured (mostly by my own self) to act normal or fun about food) then I’ll desperately need these secrets back.

They’re usually the cliche “I already ate” or “I don’t feel well” or “I didn’t even go to the gym today I can’t have toast” you get the gist.

Eating disorders are fucking impossible and I feel horrible. The worst part? “You don’t have an eating disorder. You’re just weak.” Not just from my own brain, but this happens in others’ minds as well. I know it does, because I read it online when I see mentions of Binge-Eating Disorder.

I think now I’m just ranting? I feel so lost. If eating disorders are part of my personality then I’m almost okay with it staying. I like to think I’m pretty down to earth and easy to hang out with. I’m empathetic and my-own-brand-of fun. I’m hardcore but nice? I don’t know I don’t know. Just like the anger. That’s me too.

My therapist called me defensive and I said “NO I’M NOT” as a joke, but…

This has become almost incoherent.

Happy Monday.


The Recovery Shame

I’m ’bout to get real real with you guys. It’s been a while since I’ve made a post, and it’s because I thought about being less personal. But I just want to be frank with you guys.

I hate being “recovered.”

I’m making a pause now to let you readers who don’t know me imagine what I mean by recovered. Do I mean from drugs? Gambling? Porn?

It’s all 3.

No it’s not.

It’s eating disorders.

Now, I put the word recovered in quotes up there because though I don’t partake in the daily activities of an actively disordered eater anymore, I still have so many thoughts and bad feelings and bad self-esteem surrounding me that I feel like a cheaty faced loser saying I’m legitimately recovered. I’m more like, I don’t know, in remission. The behaviors aren’t there lately (purge free since May?) but it’s very much an undercurrent.

I’m sure lots, maybe most, of the humans who have recovered from an eating disorder of any kind often think “man, I could easily go back to that. That’d be great. I could be so skinny. Eh, nah.” But what I think a lot of the time isn’t “I could go back” so much as it’s “I should go back.”

Cuz I get a lot of hate. I hate being recovered because I’m chubby now. I shouldn’t care that I’m chubby. I should embrace it and whatever and be happy I’m healthy (not really but whatever) and whatever.

But I’m really upset.

I fucking hate myself.

And there are people who see me at work who may notice the panic in my eyes when I pass the snack bar, who may notice I eat lunch 3 times, and there are friends who I accidentally admit to having 2 separate dinners to… but they wonder why because I’m too fat and I obviously eat too much.

There are those IN THE SAME HOUSEHOLD AS ME who comment on what I eat being unhealthy or that I eat too much or that I should exercise more/better.

These comments come from a good place but damn. Let me pretend to be a normal American. Jesus.

I hate it. And I hate it.

I hate being a regular chubby first-world unhealthy loser. I hate liking fast food and beer. I hate thinking about food ALL THE TIME whether I’m trying to lose weight or not.

I hate how I let the idea of being a happy healthy person made me fat.

I’m legitimately overweight now. And it makes me so sad. And I try not to let it. I think, hey. I don’t have like serious weight-related issues, right? I’m fine? I’m smaller than some people, right? Does that matter? Should I even make that comparison? God what should I do? What is normal? WHAT IS RIGHT WHAT IS HEALTHY WHAT AM I DOING I’M KIDDING MYSELF I GOT FAT.

I meet new people and I just know they’re judging me for being fat. Like you don’t know me! I was skinny once, too! Shut up! Shut up those thoughts! Stop it!

This could be a post about how fat-shaming is bad but it’s not that it’s me hating myself for letting myself get to a non-disordered weight.

It was so much easier not kidding myself into thinking I had a healthy mind.

Right now, I’d take the bloodshot eyes, the inflamed esophageal lining, and the lying and wasting over this shame and remorse.


So Complainy

if you know me in real life (sorry Matt) you’ve probably heard me complain a lot this past week. Because I broke me. 

I woke up last Sunday with excruciating hip pain in the hip that already aches often enough. I still find myself limping around. It just feels like there’s something pinched in the joint and it’s miserable to have to move. 

On top of that, for some reason, I decided to throw what my doctor told me a year ago out the window. “Try to avoid running,” she said. “Try for other workouts,” she said. 

And what do I do? Well, I attempt to run and hurt my hip and my achey foot so badly that I grabbed my husband and left the gym early. 

I tried to just go on the elliptical and it was the same pains. 

It’s MISERABLE wanting to workout and not being able to. It’s one thing to just not have the motivation… But I have it. 

I’m tempted to work through the pain, but I’m pretty sure that’s a bad idea. 

So I’m just moping. Thanks for reading. 

*Limps away*

Of Broccoli and Manic Episodes

Why can’t I be the type of mania that volunteers at assisted living facilities? Or soup kitchens? Why can’t I be the type of mania that cleans every dish in the house? Why can’t I be the type of superfreakspazmanicbitchmachine that does something FUCKING WORTHWHILE instead of the kind that spends too much money and overeats?! And then PLANS DIETS. WHY WHY WHY.


Buy a new tote to carry snacks in, that’ll help you lose weight. Buy a new gym bag. Buy new gym clothes! Buy vitamins! Buy pre-workout! Buy ALL THE SNACK FOOD! BUY ALL THE VEGETABLES THAT WILL GO BAD BEFORE YOU EVER REMEMBER YOU HAVE THEM BECAUSE YOU WERE A MANIC PSYCHO WHEN YOU BOUGHT THEM.


Jesus, self. You’re BROKE. GET IT TOGETHER. And you wonder where your money goes. Because you space out. Do you have manic episodes? No. you have grocery shopping episodes. Those are normal. But control be DAMNED. You WILL get your act together.


Things will get better once you’re skinny. Trust me. 


(Why does it always go back to third person? Oh yeah.)


I fucking hate me.


Recently it’s been a bit difficult to make myself talk about things in blog form at least once a week, but right now I’m a few beers in and figured I’d just go for it. Let’s start by complaining about things!

All I want to do is play tennis and read books. Why do I have to do all of this adult stuff? Why doesn’t Matt want to share just one car with me to save money when we grow up? Why do white strips make my teeth hurt so badly?

Who controls the traffic light by the gas station? Honestly sometimes I think I wait there for 3-5 minutes like, I need to go home. Why am I such an obnoxious drunk?

Why do pill bugs like my basement so much? Why does my mom always take my little vacuum and not tell me? I can’t find it. I don’t know where it is.

Why doesn’t my Marauder’s Map prop actually make sense? Why can’t I portion control? Why am I so anxious all the time? Why do people think tipping $4 on $74 is okay?

Maybe I should stop with the why’s. I have a stack of mail from the last two weeks I’m too afraid to look through. And a growling stomach begging to be stuffed with goodies and no calories left to do so today. I have homework to be done and a concert to go to in two days and sweater to buy for the dress I need to fit into. I have to unpack my overnight bag and get ready for bed and start a load of laundry and maybe journal a little about my insecurities and my frustrations and my goal weight.

I need to dust and organize and vacuum and plan how many calories a day I’m allowed to have this week to get down to where I was last week. I need to work out again because I’m anxious and I need to complain to my journal about being anxious and hate working out and I need to finish that one episode of Merlin that I never finished from that one time I forgot I had to take a test.

Have a happy Wednesday. Sorry for the rambling. See ya later.

THE Food Post

You may or may not have noticed yet, but I’m a little bit preoccupied with food and food related things. I talk about my issues with food, I talk about my grocery shopping and the documentaries I’ve seen about food, I go out to eat a lot… Little known fact: I also love to cook! Lately I’m so much more into food, food talks, food thinks, and eating, that I’ve decided to dedicate this post 100% to food! Food and words, at least.

Before, I had mentioned that cooking myself meals everyday isn’t going to happen at this point in my life. Too many days I come home after working 12-13 hours and the next few days (my “weekend”) are spent just recovering, so I’d rather eat something that’s delicious, fast, and nutritious. The nutritious is a bonus but may be sacrificed for the delicious factor. Priorities. Anyway because of this I like to spend one afternoon/evening a week (up to 3 hours) just cooking a lot of Just Bare chicken, turkey bacon, enriched/whole grain pasta, extra lean ground turkey meat, cilantro rice, roasting vegetables, and preparing for the 5-7 days to come. I package meals or bits of meals into little tupperware containers and take them out for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. I also keep a stash of fruit where I do homework because magically I always crave something when I’m trying to concentrate.

Before, I would think of this as a disordered type of behavior, but overall it’s proven to actually be good for me. I don’t make my meals tiny, I make them reasonable. I’ll usually be content after a tupperware of food, and if I’m not, then I also keep a stash of 100 bags of almonds and walnuts. I’m trying to be nice to myself in all the ways!

My favorite staple is spaghetti. I could eat it everyday. It’s a great breakfast, too. My spaghetti is easily packaged into 5 tupperwares (Target brand, because they have hearts on them!) because the extra lean Jennie-O turkey packages have five 4oz servings. My target brand spaghetti sauce has five 1/2 cup servings. My target brand (notice a trend?) enriched spaghetti noodles are easily weighed, separated, and cooked to any yield. Sometimes I’ll cut the serving in half and use 1oz of pasta for a tupperware, sometimes I’ll splurge on the whole 2oz. I also just LOVE putting sweated (sweated because I don’t use butter and I don’t know what else it’s called) red peppers, green peppers, onions and jalapenos in my spaghetti sauce. The turkey only really tastes good if you let it simmer in the spaghetti sauce anyway, so I let my vegetables do a lot of their cooking during that process. And I never forget a healthy splash of hot sauce. I’ve even been thinking about making my own natural-like spaghetti sauce. Maybe one day. 

Today I just made a delicious one time meal. The intention was to mimic Red Lobster’s southwest chicken sandwich. It’s SO good! Complete with onion rings, bacon, and barbecue mayonnaise… it’s over 1000 calories. My sandwich was going to be a Jimmy John’s style unwich, but I saw a little green bug on my lettuce and decided against the lettuce. I know produce has bugs, but I just couldn’t do it today. I opted for mashed cauliflower. Not a bad choice, right? Should even be a little healthier. I just cooked my 2oz of Just Bare chicken (a really cool brand. You should look for it) with a little pepper in a nonstick skillet, added a slice of turkey bacon, and put it over my mashed “potatoes.” Originally I had wanted some avocado, but Target didn’t have any ripe ones. It has failed me. Still delicious, and only like 250 calories or something. Oh, the sacrifice. 

Now I’m a little further than feeling contented, but at least I know I probably won’t want to snack later. The prepackaged meals thing is probably going to last a while in my house/future apartment/house. The best part is I only have to do a lot of dishes once or twice a week! I hate dishes. Does anyone actually like dishes, though? Probably not.

Happy, whatever.

Note: I know If it’s Target brand tupperware it’s not actually tupperware, but it’s still tupperware in my heart.

100s of Cats

My life is governed by rules and lists. Most of them I’ve made because simple daily tasks generally have me feeling overwhelmed. I label things and make formulas for almost everything. If I was my own roommate, I would kick me out. I’m way too strict.

I have a formula for my morning activities. It’s how long everything I like to do in the morning takes, and I add or subtract from the time I need to be there, leave, and wake up. I use this every morning before work, especially. I have a checklist next to the names of vitamins I take, and a checklist for how often I’ve worked out. There’s a tally and goal sheet for going soda-free. I have a 7-day dry erase board that is labeled with everything I’d like to accomplish daily. If I check everything off 7 days in a row I get myself something. The kind of things on there include: study at least a little bit, work out, eat healthy, drink enough water, etc.

My closet is labeled. The labels are very specific, too, because what if I go clothes shopping? If one item isn’t exactly a blouse but isn’t exactly casual there needs to be a section for it. Also it’s all separated by how loosely they fit. There have been moments when I’m folding laundry and almost panic because I won’t know where to put something. What if I can’t find it again because I’m an incompetent labeler?

At work I keep lists of things that are best done before my shift, during it, and after in order to make the most of my time spent there. I also keep a checklist in my book about things to say or do to make the most out of every table and keep the managers happy. I make checklists for new people I’m training, too. That’s at least helpful to someone, I hope.

I have rules posted in my room or stapled in my Rule Book (it’s a little embarrassing, but yes) for things like when I’m allowed to have soda, how often I do laundry for work clothes, regular clothes, white clothes, bed sheets and the like. I have specific rules for dusting and cleaning, such as where to start and what material to use. There’s a rule for how often I should inventory my books, and what days I should wear certain socks or other underwears.

One of the more healthy lists is my weight loss goals and prizes list. For each “goal weight” I have a posted, visualized prize that I buy/give myself when reached! I’ve always been told not to reward myself with food, so I use things like new books, dresses, and bubble baths instead. My “ultimate” goal gets a trip to Kobe Steakhouse, though. I love that place. Can’t nobody hold me back from delicious food like that. Umami ❤

For school work I have rules for studying/reading chapters, and every section of notes has to be consistent. I’ll re read a chapter and take notes on it again before I have inconsistency in my notebook. I keep a percentage of credits until completion and have an excel spreadsheet meant to calculate my GPA for me all the time. It’s nice to know, and I tend to forget what classes I’ve taken.

And those were some. I’m not sure if my analness actually does me good or not, but it feels like it. I like having this very controlled environment. I can avoid “What do I do?” shutdowns and find time to enjoy things more. That is the ultimate goal, afterall. Enjoyment and happiness. And to have 100 cats.