Resolution

The number one New Year's resolution, apparently, is losing weight. Isn't that bizarre, when you think about it? Of all the things we could hope or dream to change and make better with the gift of a new year, most of want.......weight loss.

We sure don't dream big, do we?

For many, many years, my entire life's goal was to be thin. For me, that was as good as it got. I didn't pursue a meaningful career, a fulfilling relationship, and I certainly didn't reach out to help anyone else. 

Barely, a life.

So, this year, I resolve to pursue my true dreams. I have an interview next week for a volunteer spot with the National Eating Disorders Association, I am going to blog every day, and look for any other ways I can help those who suffered as I did.

I also resolve to be kinder, more considerate, less selfish, more patient, tolerant and loving to all. Now that's a REAL challenge. Losing weight's got NOTHING on kindness. (Or patience!)

That's a life.

Care and Feeding

I have a cold with a runny nose and a stuffy head,achy bones and tired body. Just home from work, I'm going to have hot soup with crackers, hot tea with lemon and a hot bath with bubbles.  Then I'm off to bed. 

This is not how I would have treated myself, when sick, back in the days of the eating order, 

I remember suffering a raging stomach flu when  I was anorexic. I also remember eating mass quantities of raw vegetables, because that's all I ate.  And I so looked forward to those veggies. It didn't matter that my stomach revolted. Trust me, raw broccoli is of  no help to a stomach virus. But eat it I did. In mass quantities.

When I was bulimic and had a root canal, I still made myself throw up all night. That's what I did, no matter what. I binged until i couldn't move, and then purged until I felt empty - root canal or no root canal.

What a miracle, and I don't take it lightly, that I can take normal, nice care of myself.. I never thought it  would be possible and easy. But it is.

Why Skinny?

I was in Manhattan yesterday and everywhere I looked, I saw a super-skinny, exquisitely dressed, incredibly chic woman.  And when I say “super-skinny”, I mean pretty literally toothpicky.

Now I’m sure there are exceptions, but REALLY – is anyone that thin naturally?

So the question becomes – why do a large group of women want to be that skinny? These women on the Upper Eastside, where I was visiting,  have the means and often, time, to look anyway they like, and this is what so many choose.

I’m an average weight now, but once I weighed 40 pounds less, and I was STARVING all the time.  I thought that was somehow virtuous. I called myself “good” if I didn’t eat.  I called myself “fat fucking pig”, 

The thinner I got, the better I thought I looked and I would do anything to stay skinny.

 For breakfast, I ate the paper wrapping of a muffin. I’d head to Dunkin Donuts, order my black coffee then stand for a few minutes, pondering which flavor of muffin to order – kind of silly, considering I really did just eat the paper it came in. Lunch was iceberg lettuce and raw veggies with balsamic vinegar.  For dinner, perhaps a coffee yogurt, preferably frozen so it would last longer, more veggies, and then my big reward – one oreo cookie.

I was dizzy and weak all the time but even more, I was angry. I hated everything and everyone, particularly anyone who seemed comfortable eating. If you offered me food not on my “plan”, I resented you even more. How dare you!

Finally, I couldn’t live that way anymore and I began to binge constantly. Terrified of weight gain, I discovered bulimia and purged as often and as violently as possible.

It was a horrible, miserable, sick existence, but I did it for years. To stay thin.

Desperate not to eat, I turned to alcohol, hoping I would drink and not eat. And stay thin. Finally, I discovered crack cocaine, which killed my desire for food and got be back to skinny . But  then it wasn’t just weight that I lost.

I lost everything.

Of course, all those women I saw yesterday most likely do not struggle as  I did or perhaps not even at all, but I still want to know why skinny is their ideal.

Or anyone’s.

Celebrity Skinny

I spoke at an AA meeting this morning. In the front row, I noticed a woman who looked incredibly familiar, I was sure I knew her from somewhere - did we go to high school together? Maybe I knew her from a different meeting? Was she a friend of a friend?

After a few minutes, I realized I recognized her because she was a celebrity, although I couldn't remember her name, so I kept shooting furtive glances her way. Looking more closely, I saw she was very, very pretty and very, very, very thin. "Ah," I thought, if she's that thin, she's definitely a celebrity. (Whenever I've seen celebrities, they are always startling thin.)

By the end of the meeting, it came to me who she was - indeed, a celebrity. But I also wondered the same thing I've always wondered - why do we want our stars so thin, particularly women?

I've never understood the super skinny ideal - it's so unnatural to most people, especially grown ups. And what about celebrities who have had babies and are then expected to be supermodel skinny immediately? It sounds excruciating.  And speaking of supermodels, why do they have to be so skinny?

Does a woman have to be starving to be famous? And if, why?

Does it end? Or not?

I'm okay with my new current weight.  I'm definitely bigger. My jeans are tight, but that's why God made leggings, of course. So, that's okay.

Trying on dresses at Marshall's today, the saleswoman recommended I buy spanx. I was okay. Of course, I'm never going to wear spanx (I'm all about comfort, thus the leggings), but I could deal with the fact that spanx might now improve the way i look in a dress.

So, right now, I'm okay. But the trend has been upward and onward in the weight department, and I promised myself I'd keep on this mission until my body found it's real comfortable place to rest. And so I worry a bit.

I'm still completely happy with the way I'm eating. My relationship to food is excellent - it's fuel and I like it to taste good.

But I can't deny the niggling concern that this upward trend won't stop and I'll gain and gain and gain until I'll be asked to purchase an extra seat for myself on an airplane.

Still, I won't stop this process. I have always, always related to larger women, knowing that I am meant to stand with them. I need to work on the confidence to go home to where my body wants to be, wherever that is.

The journey continues...

An Untraditional Thanksgiving

I used to hate Thanksgiving. Loathe.  It terrified me, the compulsive eater, anorexic and bulimic. I'd go, eat wildly, hate myself, go home and keep bingeing, Then followed  a night over the toilet, forcing myself to puke.

Regardless of where I stood in my eating (disordered) career, I tended to ruin everyone else's Thanksgiving too. The last year of my mother's life was the height of my bulimia. It was clearly going to be my mom's last Thanksgiving, her very favorite holiday. I went (my sister would have killed me if i hadn't), but I was awful. I complained bitterly that they were forcing me to binge by serving such fattening food. Ahead of the dinner, I begged that they make only steamed vegetables and turkey and became infuriated when they didn't. I believe I thru a tantrum during dinner - my mother's last holiday.

Now, I can't tell you the last time I went to a Thanksgiving meal. Last year, I went to an AA meeting with a friend. Other years, I've worked, volunteered or stayed in. Delicious.

Free of the chains of food addiction, I could go and be just fine, if I chose to. If my best friend came home for the holiday, I would love to go to his family's. But he comes in for Christmas, and there's really nowhere else I'd rather be on this day.

Today, I slept until noon (!!!!). It doesn't get better than that - I could stop there. I drank coffee, read a good book, watched game shows (my absolute guiltiest pleasure) and then met with a sponsee, always rewarding.

Now, I'm home, heading to a bath and the aforementioned good book. A delightful day. Never thought I 'd say that about Thanksgiving.

To scale or Not to Scale?

I admit that I’m still weighing myself occasionally. I want to see what happens when I’m free with food, but perhaps that means I’m still tethered to a number.

The rule is that no matter the number, I can’t change how I’m eating.  And I must make peace with any number at all.

Right now, the number is staying about the same, but that's happened all along the way to my current weight. I'd hover around a number for a while, then go up a few pounds. My gut tells me there's more to come.

Perhaps, I am afraid. Mostly, I think I'm curious to see my what body does when it's allowed to do what it wants. 

I do LOVE the way I’ve been eating and realize that I used to eat less than was satisfying. Now, I’m completely content. There’s no desire to overeat or to eat when I’m not hungry, and I’m feeding myself more happily.

Should I put down the scale?