It's Never Really Gone - Like Herpes

In college, one of my new best friends had been recently hospitalized for complications related to her anorexia.  Instantly I was jealous of her for having the will power to not eat.  (I know, it was insane). My dabble in anorexia was short-lived, and only took me to a slightly underweight level.  And then I discovered my love of food and vodka.

But this new friend, she was so GOOD at it.  I resented her for it.  I fancied myself "recovered" but that was a sham.  I think my constant focusing on what she ate actually helped her in the long run.  Your average Anorexic doesn't typically want others to notice her eating habits.  She wants you to think she eats like a bird naturally. She wants you to see that she didn't clear her plate, but she doesn't want you to observe her scraping up the last bits of blue cheese dressing and licking it clean.  I think the "I know what you're doing" eyes I gave her did help her after all. 

She's very strong and healthy now.   And we're still great friends.  I don't think she ever knew that I was jealous of her eating disorder though.  It probably wouldn't have helped her back then.

Sometimes now, I wish I had the "will power" to avoid food.  Instead, I usually have a snack.

Dabbling In Anorexia

As I started growing taller,  I was still fat.  In eighth grade I made some new friends.  And I decided I wanted to date boys.   Remembering the fond words of a family member "you're getting FAT" on Christmas Eve, I knew the time to hesitate was through.  Clearly, the only thing I could do was stop eating.  So, for about a year I ate bagels.  Well, one bagel.  One cinnamon raisin bagel per day, to be specific.  I started eating it when I began to feel dizzy in the morning at school… and nibbled on it, pulling the skin layer off first, then the insides.  That would last me throughout the school day. If I was hungry, I'd swallow the piece of gum I'd been chewing all day.  That gave my stomach something to work at as it tried desperately to pull nutrients from my ten calorie stick.  I'd come home and have a lovely nutritious iceberg lettuce and tomato salad with fat free Hidden Valley Italian dressing.  I dropped 40 lbs that year.   My doctor applauded my hard work.  Dumb ass couldn't spot an eating disorder staring him in the eyes.





Word to the wise... when a 14 year old girl drops 40lbs in a year, ask her more than "are you eating?"

But, screw it, I landed a boyfriend!  And I bought a bikini.  Va-va-voom.  The Goodyear Blimp was now dating boys, breaking up with them and picking up new ones, turning down guys she'd been in love with in middle school…. all that in a lime green mini skirt - size 5, bitches! 

Then I discovered alcohol. Surely binge drinking didn't have anything to do with the weight gain - actually I have a theory on that. 

..at least I can communicate w/ customer service reps now

I think that I've come a long way.

My friend, Cesca's father passed away this week. She has every right to flip out. She was a thirteen hour plane ride away when it happened, and needed to get back home. During travel arrangements things got sticky a couple of times. She told me later that she "flipped out like you before the therapy."

That's pretty sad. I can say that at least I've figured out some of that. My anger and short fuse were the demise of my relationship. And probably the biggest obstacle I've faced throughout my whole life. I've been the thing that's held me back and made me unhappy....and miserable in the past.

After Lee and I broke up, I immediately started seeing a therapist. The trigger? Lee told me that he couldn't bring kids into the hostile environment that I created. To hear that, so clearly, so directly, from the man I thought I was going to marry... well, that shook me hard. That made me snap the fuck out of my pitiful being.

There's not a day that goes by that I don't blame myself for losing that. But, I also feel that I spent twenty six years throwing tantrums. And that I sorta deserved to be punished for my actions. I'm still being punished.

I look at everything differently. It's like a switch went off in my head as I pulled out of his parking lot with my car filled to the brim with three years worth of stuff left behind. With my bike strapped to the trunk. With my towels and tooth brush and pajamas and shoes and laundry and movies and books and life. I knew instantly that I had to change. And I have.

I can't get angry over stupid menial things any more. In fact, it's funny, I can't say I've really been angry at all since the break up. That's strange for me to say since I spent nearly every day of my life prior to that awful day in August, yelling and stomping about something.

God. If only I had been smart enough to fix myself before losing him.

..in the beginning

I began this as a half-assed, whole-hearted way of finding myself. I've always been a strong, independent woman. I knew who I was. I knew what I wanted. I knew what I liked and what I disliked. I lost all of that in a cliche.

It's not that the relationship was bad. And I don't blame him for it. On the contrary, I totally blame myself. The relationship took place during a time when my whole world was changing anyway - I was changing. From the ages of 23 to 26.

But, that's a story for another time. I'm starting 2009 off fresh. Not with new years resolutions, but with life resolutions. After evaluating these past few months, I've developed a list. Since somewhere around October, I've been working on these. In no particular order, they are:

1. stop the crazy
2. remember my friends
3. stop taking things out on other people
4. (apparently was) shop shop shop
5. no more shopping
6. get over being single and deal with it
7. read more
8. do things for me
9. don't go out with people i don't like

Should be quite a ride.