As I move out of my addictions and into myself, there's evident change. I feel it in my body; i feel it in my brain.
i'm questioning my life-long belief systems in big and small ways;
for one thing, l'm not who i thought i was. for years, i scrunched myself into business suits, and headed off (way to early in the morning) to corporate America.
I binged, I purged, I starved, I drank and took drugs.
I bitterly informed myself that i had no other options or talents -- all i knew how to do, my only viable skill, was sales (eeeeekkkk).
I binged, I purged, I starved, I drank, I did drugs.
Believing i was naturally ugly, i broke the bank on hair straightening, blonde highlights, pedicures, make-up (i really spent here, sure that only high-quality expensive stuff could help the disaster that was me)
still, I was miserable. face-stuffing, toilet hugging, wine swigging and drugs.
i told myself i was a terrible writer and, therefore, did not deserve to write anything at all.
i broke my heart.
now, i don't binge, purge or starve. i'm clean and sober. the old beliefs quiver about their certainty.
corporate america? business suits? not unless Bill Gates decides to fund my project to build self-esteem in young girls. yeah, then i'd scrunch into that business suit. but only for Bill.
expensive make-up? can't afford it. this morning i said to my boyfriend, what if we scaled our lifes back as much as humanly possible and start enjoying our lifestyle instead of our things.
writing. i've been writing since i was little. when my mom died, i found notebooks filled with my childhood stories and ramblings. to deny my pleasure would deny myself. it doesn't matter what or how i write, it's something i love to do.
that goes to creativity. i've been saying for years i'm not creative. i love beautiful art and beautiful words but don't have a creative bone in my body.
why then y do i love the creative lifestyle -- inching through bookstores, book by book? losing hours in museums, in movies, in dreaming, in writing, in just observing?
why then do i design hair and make-up in my dreams, wishing i'd been a hair and make-up "artist"?
i'm letting that part of me out. it can live and breathe. i can breathe.
all those things i apologize for? i'm embracing them. my messy disorganized purse? it's charming. the stains on my shirt -- they're not going to stop, so i might as well laugh. it beats (for me) zipping up a business suit.
for years i was never late -- always early. i had to be "perfect", beyond reproache. now, i see my natural tendency -- it's to daydream, to lose track of time, to think of a million things i need to do before i leave. but it's disrespectful to be late. i work to be on time, but i want to shout it out;
"i'm naturally late, i'm naturally messy, i'm not mainstream, my hair is frizzy, i'm more liberal than i admit, i'm quirky, i'm super sensitive, i love my friends."
that's just the beginning.
one other thing i wanted to share. i've always believed that being beautiful is the best. if you're beautiful, you're set. people like pretty people. you have boyfriends and special treatment. people smile at you, studies say you get better jobs, and my mother would have liked you more.
i've believed this all my 45 years. until recently, i was thinking about Eve, my beautiful, wonderful friend. everyone agrees Eve is beautiful. she's always had boyfriends and special treatment. people smile at her. she lands every job. my mother would have loved her.
i'd start to notice that Eve flinches in her beauty. maybe, i wondered, she didn't want to get these things just because of her looks? nah. how could that be.
after too many flinches to ignore, i decided to have a conservation with her.
"Eve", I said. "you know, i always think that because you're beautiful, that's enough. as someone who never got boyfriends or special treatment or extra
smiles, i just assumed you have the best -- beauty. what better could there be"
"so, because I assumed that if you have great looks and a lovely warm personality, you don't need other things. i realize that in all our years of friendship, i've never told you how smart you are."
"Melissa" my 37 year-old friend answered softly, "no one's ever told me that i'm smart before."
in her voice i heard. beauty might not be the best. huh?
my heart is open. i'm more open. i think we're getting somewhere
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Sunday, July 5, 2009
I Should Have Blogged. Instead of Eating
so, i was a little antsy today. i wanted to blog and read but had too many other things to do.
instead, i ate. i ate dinner eons before i was hungry and just a few hours after a good lunch. there was some bbq chicken. then a hot dog on a roll. then salad. some chips and salsa. i wasn't hungry, but my beloved was eating and it looked good and i was a little antsy. i wanted to blog about what was going on. but i didn't. and i could have.
i had a tootsie roll lollipop to stave off more eating. we watched a fairly dull movie. i got a little antsier. there were two or three pieces of chocolate involved. some water for closure. more movie. i was getting too lethargic to do anything else, anyway.
there was cake in the refrigerator. german chocolate cake with coconut icing. and a cherry on top. i had a nice piece of that.
oh so bloated, and the antsy-meter goes up. the dull movie ended. i put another one in.
"don't you want to blog?", asked my beloved. smart man.
well, i've been having a SOUL-feeding time for the last hour or so. haven't desired food since i tapped the first key. let this be a loving message to me.
i could have just blogged. now i know
instead, i ate. i ate dinner eons before i was hungry and just a few hours after a good lunch. there was some bbq chicken. then a hot dog on a roll. then salad. some chips and salsa. i wasn't hungry, but my beloved was eating and it looked good and i was a little antsy. i wanted to blog about what was going on. but i didn't. and i could have.
i had a tootsie roll lollipop to stave off more eating. we watched a fairly dull movie. i got a little antsier. there were two or three pieces of chocolate involved. some water for closure. more movie. i was getting too lethargic to do anything else, anyway.
there was cake in the refrigerator. german chocolate cake with coconut icing. and a cherry on top. i had a nice piece of that.
oh so bloated, and the antsy-meter goes up. the dull movie ended. i put another one in.
"don't you want to blog?", asked my beloved. smart man.
well, i've been having a SOUL-feeding time for the last hour or so. haven't desired food since i tapped the first key. let this be a loving message to me.
i could have just blogged. now i know
Friday, July 3, 2009
morning
i am not a morning person.
i have never been a morning person. as a child insomniac, i read all night with a flashlight, so my mother wouldn't catch me. when she did she'd take away the flashlight and tell me to go to sleep. instead, i'd lie, sleepless, in bed for a while. then i'd go raid the refrigeration.
fear was a big part of the problem. the night terrified me. i thought there was a man under my bed, Hitler hid in my closet, and some maniac lurked outside the window.
food comforted me, but not entirely.
i wouldn't fall asleep until the sun came up -- then i felt safe. needless to say,i was less than perky when it was time for school, and i'd get ready late, miss the bus and beg to stay home from school. (i hated school. with my chubby exterior, frizzy hair and braces AND very cruel classmates, school was hell.)
my sleep (or lack of sleep) habits stayed with me. in high school, my single mother dated strange men and stayed out all night. sometimes, she'd sleepover at her boyfriends several nights in a row.
those nights loomed long. i'd try not to move off the couch, so i could watch all around for attackers. the upstairs was off limits, god knows what waited up there.
i stayed up all night and ate. and ate. and ate.
in college, anorexia, then compulsive eating took over. i don't remember sleeping. although financially strapped, i paid for cable, just so i'd have company all night. by morning, i was vaguely comatose. a fat zombie.
sophomore year of college i gained 60 or so pounds, through eating and not sleeping. finally, i dropped out of college and kind of dropped out in general for a few years.
this pattern became my life. in my twenties and thirties, i starved myself down to nothing until bulimia hit me hard. binging and purging ruled my nights.
morning's became the major nemesis. after long nights of no sleep, i dreaded each and every daylight. going to work proved an excruciating experience. i had two major jobs during those years, each wanting me there by 8 am. day after day, i floated excuses for why i was late. or i'd drag in, barely able to talk, focus or think. day after day, i felt like shit.
i still fight this fight. i'm taking trazedone for sleep (or else i won't) and wake up (if you can call it that) in that old state of zombie-ness. it takes hours to feel semi-normal. my current job is fairly flexible and most of the time i can work from home. many of my clients are on the west coast, so it's useless to contact them before noon here in new jersey.
but we do travel a lot and have early meetings. what a struggle. each morning is frightening and unpleasant. my usual traveling companion, my brother, could run a marathon before my alarm even goes off. even when it's REALLY early.
my boyfriend also bounces out of bed, full of vim and vigor. morning's his favorite time for everything, from chores to long conversations about important topics. all before coffee.
on days off, he wants to get up with the sun and head to the beach. aargh. it's just painful. it hurts.
i long to be a morning person. someone who gets up, heads to the gym, eats a heathly breakfast, reads The New York Times and gets to work before nine, when i'm, in truth, still groggily trying to open my eyes.
it kind of cuts a life in half -- officially waking up at noon. and what if i get a "real" job again. and showing up for lunch doesn't cut it?
still, i'm not a morning person.
i have never been a morning person. as a child insomniac, i read all night with a flashlight, so my mother wouldn't catch me. when she did she'd take away the flashlight and tell me to go to sleep. instead, i'd lie, sleepless, in bed for a while. then i'd go raid the refrigeration.
fear was a big part of the problem. the night terrified me. i thought there was a man under my bed, Hitler hid in my closet, and some maniac lurked outside the window.
food comforted me, but not entirely.
i wouldn't fall asleep until the sun came up -- then i felt safe. needless to say,i was less than perky when it was time for school, and i'd get ready late, miss the bus and beg to stay home from school. (i hated school. with my chubby exterior, frizzy hair and braces AND very cruel classmates, school was hell.)
my sleep (or lack of sleep) habits stayed with me. in high school, my single mother dated strange men and stayed out all night. sometimes, she'd sleepover at her boyfriends several nights in a row.
those nights loomed long. i'd try not to move off the couch, so i could watch all around for attackers. the upstairs was off limits, god knows what waited up there.
i stayed up all night and ate. and ate. and ate.
in college, anorexia, then compulsive eating took over. i don't remember sleeping. although financially strapped, i paid for cable, just so i'd have company all night. by morning, i was vaguely comatose. a fat zombie.
sophomore year of college i gained 60 or so pounds, through eating and not sleeping. finally, i dropped out of college and kind of dropped out in general for a few years.
this pattern became my life. in my twenties and thirties, i starved myself down to nothing until bulimia hit me hard. binging and purging ruled my nights.
morning's became the major nemesis. after long nights of no sleep, i dreaded each and every daylight. going to work proved an excruciating experience. i had two major jobs during those years, each wanting me there by 8 am. day after day, i floated excuses for why i was late. or i'd drag in, barely able to talk, focus or think. day after day, i felt like shit.
i still fight this fight. i'm taking trazedone for sleep (or else i won't) and wake up (if you can call it that) in that old state of zombie-ness. it takes hours to feel semi-normal. my current job is fairly flexible and most of the time i can work from home. many of my clients are on the west coast, so it's useless to contact them before noon here in new jersey.
but we do travel a lot and have early meetings. what a struggle. each morning is frightening and unpleasant. my usual traveling companion, my brother, could run a marathon before my alarm even goes off. even when it's REALLY early.
my boyfriend also bounces out of bed, full of vim and vigor. morning's his favorite time for everything, from chores to long conversations about important topics. all before coffee.
on days off, he wants to get up with the sun and head to the beach. aargh. it's just painful. it hurts.
i long to be a morning person. someone who gets up, heads to the gym, eats a heathly breakfast, reads The New York Times and gets to work before nine, when i'm, in truth, still groggily trying to open my eyes.
it kind of cuts a life in half -- officially waking up at noon. and what if i get a "real" job again. and showing up for lunch doesn't cut it?
still, i'm not a morning person.
Monday, June 29, 2009
acupuncture
ouch. i can't believe i let someone stick needles in my stomach.
i haven't written lately, because my stomach hurts. (crumpy post alert.)
my stomach always has some issue, most of them eating disorder/stress-related-- too many years of starving, binging and purging.
last wednesday, i was walking down Main street, denville, new jersey, holding my ulcer and clutching my cramps.
i saw the sign "FREE ACUPUNCTURE CONSULTATION." really, i would have tried anything
for cramps, i've main-lined advil (ow, ulcer), tried tylenol with codeine (didn't work!), eaten bananas (potassium), burned through heating pads and lost a lot of sleep and days of work.
for my ulcer -- nexium, prilosec, xantac, rice, bread, no spices, deep breathing...
nada.
i prayed the acupuncture would help. everyone (particular new yorkers) recommends it.
although not a fan of needles, in i went, and i let a little lady dig holes into my stomach, near the ulcer pain. as i write this i wince. what was i thinking? what was i thinking?
IT HURT. i hurt. the site of the needles hurt and my stomach hurt, and i felt nauseous.
i seem to be feeling better, five days later, although my stomach is super sensitive and making symphonic sounds day and night, and i'm still kind of nauseous.
of course, it messes with my eating. my squealing belly only wants rice, bread, noodles and potatoes. it DOES not want broccoli, vinegar, salsa, mustard, spice, et. al. (it's gurgling at the mere mention. seriously.)
what's an eating disordered gal to do? Avoid apuncture.
i haven't written lately, because my stomach hurts. (crumpy post alert.)
my stomach always has some issue, most of them eating disorder/stress-related-- too many years of starving, binging and purging.
last wednesday, i was walking down Main street, denville, new jersey, holding my ulcer and clutching my cramps.
i saw the sign "FREE ACUPUNCTURE CONSULTATION." really, i would have tried anything
for cramps, i've main-lined advil (ow, ulcer), tried tylenol with codeine (didn't work!), eaten bananas (potassium), burned through heating pads and lost a lot of sleep and days of work.
for my ulcer -- nexium, prilosec, xantac, rice, bread, no spices, deep breathing...
nada.
i prayed the acupuncture would help. everyone (particular new yorkers) recommends it.
although not a fan of needles, in i went, and i let a little lady dig holes into my stomach, near the ulcer pain. as i write this i wince. what was i thinking? what was i thinking?
IT HURT. i hurt. the site of the needles hurt and my stomach hurt, and i felt nauseous.
i seem to be feeling better, five days later, although my stomach is super sensitive and making symphonic sounds day and night, and i'm still kind of nauseous.
of course, it messes with my eating. my squealing belly only wants rice, bread, noodles and potatoes. it DOES not want broccoli, vinegar, salsa, mustard, spice, et. al. (it's gurgling at the mere mention. seriously.)
what's an eating disordered gal to do? Avoid apuncture.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Doing Well!
Wow. I'm doing really well. I'm eating well and comfortably, not drinking, no sedatives and no Ambien. Well, look at me.
And I'm coping, even tolerating stressful situations and sitting with discomfort. Is this really me?
I wouldn't say life is perfect. there are plenty of issues, but i find myself sticking up for myself, like someone who has some self-esteem.
There are moments, for sure, when i'm displeased or uncomfortable, and a second plate of food looks comforting. But I refuse, I refuse to stuff down my feelings and then feel crummy later. Uh. Uh. even if i'm not ready to communicate about what's going on (it often takes me a long time to figure out what's bothering me.) I've come to realize that a second helping won't help, and i don't want it (unless i'm still hungry, in which case, i'll eat more.) like i said, "wow".
with alcohol, i have 36 days sober. i've written that this time is easier. once in a while, i do have a craving. while i was in california last week, my nephew (also my colleague) and i went out for dinner after a long day of work and a delightful early evening of sight-seeing. we planned to go to a great, beautiful seafood place, right on the water.
as we were driving there, i thought, "ah, it's a beautiful evening, the view will spectucualar, i'm in a great, stress-free, mood. wouldn't it be wonderful to have a glass of delicious wine with the magnificent food?"
no, it wouldn't be wonderful. i don't NEED a glass of wine to have a good time. my nephew and i were having a lot of fun talking and laughing and enjoying the views. like me, he lives for bookstores. we must have visited ten (yes, that does include the bookstores at ALL the airports we sat in) during our three-day visit. if i drank, i would have felt crappy, physically and emotionally. no way. i refuse to let a bottle of wine take away my freedom. i refuse.
net, net my nephew and i had a perfect meal. yes, the food was terrific, but the views were better, and the company even more. i looked at all the menu of extraordinary food and thought about what i really like, what i was really in the mood for and what would make me comfortably satiated.
it was late (we'd sight-seed for hours), i was totally sleep deprived, and actually not very hungry. i ordered crab soup, artichoke salad and ate the great bread. exactly what i needed and wanted.
what i wanted more was great conversation. i find that if someone talks with me and listens to me, food takes it's proper place.
my nephew and i did movie trivia (he knows a lot more than I) throughout the meal and then we discussed our family at length.
re: Ambien. i haven't been taking. i dwindled from 10mg to 5mg to .25 mg and now nothing. sure, it puts me to sleep. but it also makes me dumb the next day and for some reason effects my personality quite negatively. once again, i refuse. i refuse to let some drug make me dumb and unhappy.
some situations aren't easy, and i do get angry and scared and anxious. i've been calling my great friends and getting A LOT of support. that's seems to be the key for me. i'm noticing what makes me anxious, dealing with the issues and feelings and staying okay.
wow.
And I'm coping, even tolerating stressful situations and sitting with discomfort. Is this really me?
I wouldn't say life is perfect. there are plenty of issues, but i find myself sticking up for myself, like someone who has some self-esteem.
There are moments, for sure, when i'm displeased or uncomfortable, and a second plate of food looks comforting. But I refuse, I refuse to stuff down my feelings and then feel crummy later. Uh. Uh. even if i'm not ready to communicate about what's going on (it often takes me a long time to figure out what's bothering me.) I've come to realize that a second helping won't help, and i don't want it (unless i'm still hungry, in which case, i'll eat more.) like i said, "wow".
with alcohol, i have 36 days sober. i've written that this time is easier. once in a while, i do have a craving. while i was in california last week, my nephew (also my colleague) and i went out for dinner after a long day of work and a delightful early evening of sight-seeing. we planned to go to a great, beautiful seafood place, right on the water.
as we were driving there, i thought, "ah, it's a beautiful evening, the view will spectucualar, i'm in a great, stress-free, mood. wouldn't it be wonderful to have a glass of delicious wine with the magnificent food?"
no, it wouldn't be wonderful. i don't NEED a glass of wine to have a good time. my nephew and i were having a lot of fun talking and laughing and enjoying the views. like me, he lives for bookstores. we must have visited ten (yes, that does include the bookstores at ALL the airports we sat in) during our three-day visit. if i drank, i would have felt crappy, physically and emotionally. no way. i refuse to let a bottle of wine take away my freedom. i refuse.
net, net my nephew and i had a perfect meal. yes, the food was terrific, but the views were better, and the company even more. i looked at all the menu of extraordinary food and thought about what i really like, what i was really in the mood for and what would make me comfortably satiated.
it was late (we'd sight-seed for hours), i was totally sleep deprived, and actually not very hungry. i ordered crab soup, artichoke salad and ate the great bread. exactly what i needed and wanted.
what i wanted more was great conversation. i find that if someone talks with me and listens to me, food takes it's proper place.
my nephew and i did movie trivia (he knows a lot more than I) throughout the meal and then we discussed our family at length.
re: Ambien. i haven't been taking. i dwindled from 10mg to 5mg to .25 mg and now nothing. sure, it puts me to sleep. but it also makes me dumb the next day and for some reason effects my personality quite negatively. once again, i refuse. i refuse to let some drug make me dumb and unhappy.
some situations aren't easy, and i do get angry and scared and anxious. i've been calling my great friends and getting A LOT of support. that's seems to be the key for me. i'm noticing what makes me anxious, dealing with the issues and feelings and staying okay.
wow.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
warped ideas
carrie arnold wrote a great post on her blog, ED Bites, about the assumption of the virtues of low-fat and "guilt-free" foods. advertising assumes it, parents assume it, i believe most people assume ti. it all makes our eating disorder seem normal. (for so many insights and great writing, read carrie's blog, if you don't already.)
back to those assumptions. isn't a turkey sandwich the best? aren't we being "good" when we skip the real mayonnaise, full-fat desserts, carbs, any kind of saladed meat (tuna, chicken, egg), half-and-half, salad dressing..... you know the list. are we being virtuous or anorexic?
i wrote something on carrie's blog that's been on my mind. her post spurred me to remember something i thought was odd. i took my niece to buy clothes at Lane Bryant. they have beautiful clothes and the sales people were lovely and helped us so much. my niece felt comfortable and pretty and important. that part was thrilling.
here was the weird thing -- the sales people (plus-size and beautifully turned out in Lane Bryant attire) kept steering her toward "slimming" clothes. and flattering items that hid her stomache, her hips, her large breasts. it was "harder" to do this because she doesn't have a "waistline". they steered away from anything white and, naturally, no horizontal stripes. not flattering at all!
i don't get it -- isn't my niece, particularly in Lane Bryant, supposed to be fine, better than fine, just the way she is?
back to those assumptions. isn't a turkey sandwich the best? aren't we being "good" when we skip the real mayonnaise, full-fat desserts, carbs, any kind of saladed meat (tuna, chicken, egg), half-and-half, salad dressing..... you know the list. are we being virtuous or anorexic?
i wrote something on carrie's blog that's been on my mind. her post spurred me to remember something i thought was odd. i took my niece to buy clothes at Lane Bryant. they have beautiful clothes and the sales people were lovely and helped us so much. my niece felt comfortable and pretty and important. that part was thrilling.
here was the weird thing -- the sales people (plus-size and beautifully turned out in Lane Bryant attire) kept steering her toward "slimming" clothes. and flattering items that hid her stomache, her hips, her large breasts. it was "harder" to do this because she doesn't have a "waistline". they steered away from anything white and, naturally, no horizontal stripes. not flattering at all!
i don't get it -- isn't my niece, particularly in Lane Bryant, supposed to be fine, better than fine, just the way she is?
Friday, June 5, 2009
Dealing/Hiding
things have been going well. i am clean and sober and eating fine.
it's great and it's terrifying. suddenly, i'm not covering up or hiding from the real world. when a bill comes, i have to pay it. and i can't drink some wine first to forget just how little money i actually have. and how much i tend to spend.
last weekend, d. and i hung out. there was a lot of gardening and housework to do. i don't much like either. usually, i'd grab a big glass of wine and drudgingly do what needed to be done (complaining the whole time, of course). or i'd drink too much wine and end up too tipsy to work. i'd feel physically and emotionally awful and ashamed and start nibbling food. then i'd be miserable that i was eating , so i'd take ambien and go to sleep.
uh well, none of that works anymore. last weekend, i got pretty overwhelmed.i really didn't feel like yard work or hard work or cleaning, i crawled into bed in the middle of the day. and slept for four hours. d. wondered what the heck was wrong with me.
i was hiding. i was anesthetizing (without subsances) fear, resentment and mostly, self-hatred that i'm naturally lazy.
still, i suppose that in that moment, it was the best option i had. i didn't eat out of emotion, i didn't plan to starve, i didn't drink alcohol or take a sleeping pill.
now, i'm working on dealing with the real world. my therapist has me listing absolutely everything i spend. next, we're going to work out a budget. i've NEVER budgeted and always ended up in scarey debt. i spend way too much. that's another hidden secret. like binging or drinking, in the end shopping just hurts me.
and i guess i need to talk to d. about all the stuff that needs to get done around the house. like everything else, i prefer to avoid discussing it and doing it. but since i'm not obsessing about food or my weight, and i'm not drinking or taking pills, i guess it's an excellent time to face reality.
it's all hard work. i didn't realize quite how much there is to cope with!!! but i am doing well. feeling much healthier. sleeping better. beginning to take responsibility for myself.
not bad, right?
i'm not crawling into bed this weekend. my sister-in-laws mom died, and we're going to a funeral in rhode island. they're will TONS of booze and food, so wish me luck. i have my own plans for staying cool, but it's good to know you're all here.
i wonder if the funeral will remind me of my mom and her death and all my regrets. i'm trying very hard to stay in the present. my boyfriend will be with me. and i did very much like my sister-in-laws mom, so i'm glad i'm going.
i'll be away this weekend, probably without internet access. as soon as i'm back, i'm heading to california for work. if you don't hear from me soon, it's just because i'm traveling a lot. hope i have the chance to check in. blogging friends are the great support and therapy!
it's great and it's terrifying. suddenly, i'm not covering up or hiding from the real world. when a bill comes, i have to pay it. and i can't drink some wine first to forget just how little money i actually have. and how much i tend to spend.
last weekend, d. and i hung out. there was a lot of gardening and housework to do. i don't much like either. usually, i'd grab a big glass of wine and drudgingly do what needed to be done (complaining the whole time, of course). or i'd drink too much wine and end up too tipsy to work. i'd feel physically and emotionally awful and ashamed and start nibbling food. then i'd be miserable that i was eating , so i'd take ambien and go to sleep.
uh well, none of that works anymore. last weekend, i got pretty overwhelmed.i really didn't feel like yard work or hard work or cleaning, i crawled into bed in the middle of the day. and slept for four hours. d. wondered what the heck was wrong with me.
i was hiding. i was anesthetizing (without subsances) fear, resentment and mostly, self-hatred that i'm naturally lazy.
still, i suppose that in that moment, it was the best option i had. i didn't eat out of emotion, i didn't plan to starve, i didn't drink alcohol or take a sleeping pill.
now, i'm working on dealing with the real world. my therapist has me listing absolutely everything i spend. next, we're going to work out a budget. i've NEVER budgeted and always ended up in scarey debt. i spend way too much. that's another hidden secret. like binging or drinking, in the end shopping just hurts me.
and i guess i need to talk to d. about all the stuff that needs to get done around the house. like everything else, i prefer to avoid discussing it and doing it. but since i'm not obsessing about food or my weight, and i'm not drinking or taking pills, i guess it's an excellent time to face reality.
it's all hard work. i didn't realize quite how much there is to cope with!!! but i am doing well. feeling much healthier. sleeping better. beginning to take responsibility for myself.
not bad, right?
i'm not crawling into bed this weekend. my sister-in-laws mom died, and we're going to a funeral in rhode island. they're will TONS of booze and food, so wish me luck. i have my own plans for staying cool, but it's good to know you're all here.
i wonder if the funeral will remind me of my mom and her death and all my regrets. i'm trying very hard to stay in the present. my boyfriend will be with me. and i did very much like my sister-in-laws mom, so i'm glad i'm going.
i'll be away this weekend, probably without internet access. as soon as i'm back, i'm heading to california for work. if you don't hear from me soon, it's just because i'm traveling a lot. hope i have the chance to check in. blogging friends are the great support and therapy!
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