Pushing Limits and Setting Boundaries

I tossed and turned all night, unable to stay asleep for more than half an hour at a time. I was annoyed with myself for a few reasons, and worried about friends and that I had stepped on people's toes yesterday.

I got up around 5am and sat smoking and drinking coffee and thinking. I was reading my old posts from when I was very active in eating disorders message boards where there are a lot of people not even contemplating recovery, and the shift in focus on my blog when my attention was drawn to the more recovery orientated blogging community.

I guess I am scared that I look to blogs a little too much for support and motivation, and I am worried that MY recovery is going to be dependant on other people's. Of course, that will never work- I need to OWN my recovery and be doing it for ME. Doing it for myself isn't the same as doing it by myself and I need to figure out a way to set some boundaries with myself regarding where I draw the line between using support whilst still remaining independently recovering. Does that make any sense?..

This is definitely an issue I have struggled with in the past- doing what everyone around me is doing because...well, if they can do it, so can I. It's hard for me to separate myself from anyone/everyone around me, and do what is right for ME- especially when I am struggling and either looking for justification for my behaviour, or reason to change. It's also been hard for me to feel good about myself/where I am when I go down the road of comparing myself to people who I was at school with and are now doctors/lawyers/architects, married, happy.

Essentially I think the problem is that I have no idea who I am, what I want or where I am going and I'm trying too hard to fit in where I perhaps don't really belong. Part of this is the huge ambivalence I apparently have towards recovery- don't get me wrong, I WANT to be free from anorexia, but struggle a lot with giving up the behaviours. for this reason, I don't fit in with the friends I have that don't want to get well, and I don't fit in with the friends I have who are actively making changes because I'm somewhere in between.

I have a tendency to put people on pedestals and give myself permission to eat/stop exercising/do XYZ because that is what my role models do and I really struggle to stay focused on my recovery when I see that the people I look up to are human too. And that's perfectly OKAY- the problem isn't THEM, it's my perception. I am fully aware of this.

This is not a criticism of anyone in particular, except myself- not even criticism so PLEASE don't see it that way. Merely an observance of my own thoughts, feelings, actions and a look at where I am right now. Food and weight issues aside, there is a hell of a lot of work I need to be doing with regards to recovery.

Anyway, onto my fun stuff...


Cheese is a bit of a "fear food" for me, so I decided I was going to incorporate it somehow into today's food. What did I come up with?

Apple cheddar oatmeal.

In the mix:

• 1/3 cup oats cooked in water
• apple
• cinnamon
• 1oz cheddar

I've never had apples with cheese before, but heard it was good- and it WAS! Love sweet + savoury combinations! Close up of the mixed-up cheesy goodness...


And due to Clif-burnout, a new snack :)



And finally, a quote I came across this morning...

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear."
- Ambrose Redmoon

Baby Steps... Oh, Baby- Rip Off The Band-Aid and Start Striding

Tonight was the long-awaited phone call with my therapist in New York. I had emailed him a couple of weeks ago, before I had been offered a place at the supported housing project, to inquire about reapplying to do the dialectical behavioural therapy program I left prematurely in 07. The program is pretty demanding emotionally, and requires a certain level of stability with symptoms- I was starting to spiral downwards and had to leave- the recommendation was that I entered an eating disorder specific residential program, but I didn't have insurance coverage for that so was left with no option but to return to the UK.

I don't know why I have such high hopes for this program, or why I so desperately want to return to New York and complete the 6 months. I think that I am becoming increasingly frustrated with how slow my progress has been and want something more intensive to really propel me forward.

I've written about the difference between the two health care systems before- the high hopes of my team in the US for a full recovery (like ripping off a band-aid) and the s...l...o...w... way of working here. I am under the eating disorders team and I am giving my therapy sessions my all, but I find it really hard to hold onto much hope when the expectations seem so low. I want to be FREE from this completely- to suddenly be "okay" with food, health, life. To have a job, be living independently, to not be controlled by rules and rituals and compulsions. When I was receiving treatment in the US, I was really thrown in at the deep end. Quite a challenge for someone who hasn't been in full-time education since the age of 12 and pretty much grew up in hospital. I suddenly found myself being discharged from inpatient at a healthy weight, working at Starbucks, living by myself and taking college classes. It was weird. In a GOOD way. It gave me a taste of what life COULD be like. But in a lot of ways, it's made things so much harder for me- to have that all, and lose it all.

My team now want me to take this one class for 2 hours a week and not take on anything else (work, study, etc). We set small goals each week around socialising, food, etc. It's working for me- as in, it's sustainable. I'm not rushing into things, taking on too much only to have it crashing down around me. My team seem to have learned from my past history- so why is it so hard for me to do the same?

I guess I am just angry with myself for still being so stuck in this dysfunctional state when I know there is so much more out there, and having tasted it, want it more than ever.

I can't figure out why New York represents "health" so much for me. Or why I cling to the idea that I can only truly recover if I am in America. It doesn't make sense, certainly isn't based on evidence and is only further fueling my frustration. I have been working really hard at just accepting where I am right now- both with my recovery, and the more concrete facts of where I am living, the treatment I have available to me here and what that involves.

It's really hard for me to NOT compare myself to other people. I know I am not alone in my struggles with food and weight, but I feel so inadequate to others who somehow manage to go to school, work, etc. I don't know if I am just lazy? I don't know if I need to just somehow Nike-style "DO IT" or if for me, baby-steps are the only way. I should know by now that for whatever reason, just "doing it" doesn't quite work out. It's just painfully difficult for me to accept that *this* is how things are. Not that I won't keep working towards my goals, I'm just frustrated with how long and drawn out this all seems, and whether I am making things worse for myself. I feel like I can DO all these things- I can work, go to school, eat in a restaurant, deal with whatever stress life throws my way. But only for a very short space of time. Days, weeks, months- it doesn't matter. I just haven't been able to sustain things for any significant period of time without falling to pieces. Again and again.

Anyway... Back on topic. The outcome of the phone call was that the program doesn't think I am stable enough to return at this point for various reasons. This is just bizarre to me because my team here are perfectly happy with how I am doing/the way things are going. I WANT to try things here with moving into my apartment, carrying on with the small goals, and if TIME wasn't an issue, I'd be happy to do this and reapply for the program when I can stand up and say, "that was where I WAS, this is where I AM and I am ready to take it to the next level". BUT, I only have insurance in the US until October so it DOES feel like a "now or never" thing. Because it IS. I know that I am working towards that place where I can proudly say, "this is where I am NOW" but it doesn't feel like progress because I'm not there yet.

Rules Are Made To Be Broken

I don't feel like saying much tonight but wanted to post *something*. I don't know- I guess I feel more connected to people through blogging. It's been a very mixed day. I didn't sleep last night so am completely wiped out, and it's so much harder to feel hopeful and optimistic when you have no energy whatsoever (another reason why restricting makes life that much more of a struggle!).

The other thing is that I've had the house to myself for the last two weeks. I have a lot of difficulties with rituals and obsessions which I am WORKING on, but it's still a huge problem. It's much easier for me to relax and ease up on the "rules" I have when I don't feel so suffocated. My mom got home from her vacation today which is hard for me in itself, given our relationship, but so much harder with all my "weirdness".

I'm also wondering if the anxiety around being with her is contributing to me not wanting to say much tonight/the old feelings of just wanting to disappear. Looking back, my regular (and much more recovery orientated!) posting coincided with her leaving.

It's weird because I find it really hard to be by myself. I am by nature, an anxious person who is also very sociable and LOVES the company of others. Yet it's so difficult for me to actually *be* with people due to all the rituals/rules I have ("must be finished dinner by 6:30 to drink coffee"/"must eat lunch at exactly 12:30 so have to be home then"/"can't eat snack anywhere else but kitchen so must be home by 3"). Kind of makes socialising difficult since literally every hour of the day there is some kind of thing I feel compelled to do, and I do this stuff alone. When I do make plans with people, I need plenty of notice in advance so I have time to plan around it/get my head around "shuffling" my timings of things around.

Oy vey. Considering I didn't want to write much, this has turned into a rather lengthy entry!

Anyone found a way to get beyond the rituals and rules? I feel like I work really hard to break one, without realising that I have actually just replaced it...and so the cycle goes. I have "broken" hundreds of them, but am still really trapped because I break it by switching it!

On another note, I found this website on someone's blog earlier (can't remember who- sorry!) and it's great for a laugh: CHECK IT OUT

What's Normal Anyway?..

This has been on my mind for quite some time, more so the last few weeks...

As the title of my blog suggests, and as I explained in my introductory post, I was very into dancing at one point. I started when I was 20- initially to accompany a friend who was too shy to go herself, and I fell in love. Over the few years that followed, my passion grew and I attended more and more classes. It was hard to define what was healthy for *me*- it gave me a reason to nourish my body, maintain some semblance of "health" and let me see my body in a new light (in terms of what it was capable of, as opposed to merely what it looked like). There were definitely periods when it was more an anorexia-driven compulsion- I would "let" myself eat if I danced. I worked with my treatment team to try to keep up with dancing as it was the first "hobby" I had had...double-edged sword and they also had a hard time figuring out when it was a good idea for me to dance, and when it wasn't.

I sustained a few injuries when I relapsed pretty badly in 2006. My muscles weren't strong enough to support my bones, and the classes became too exhausting and definitely weren't for fun anymore. I pretty much stopped dancing completely as my health declined. I don't know if NOT dancing made things worse for me, but I was too depressed/deep in anorexia to feed the creative part of me that loved dancing so much.

Since then, my health has been up and down. I've taken a few classes as I've moved around, but never 1) found a studio/class that I really enjoyed, and 2) never managed to find that love of dancing that was once there.

(I am rambling, but am getting to my point!)

Anyway, about 2 years ago I stumbled across a food blog. For those of you not familiar with them, there are bloggers out there who show photos/post recipes of what they eat. The first one I found was a registered dietitian and this blog was part of her job. It FASCINATED me to see what "normal" people eat. Part of this is, no doubt, my obsession with food/nutrition. The other part is definitely sheer curiosity of how someone without an eating disorder fuels their body whilst going about living their life. Over time, these blogs have grown more and more widespread and my obsession has grown. They have been real eye-openers to read- I've spent so much time obsessing over my own food intake, or in hospital on "prescribed" diets that I really had no concept of what is normal in a world outwith my anorexic bubble. I now have about 40 blogs bookmarked, over half of which I read daily. I know the ins and outs of their every day lives. I know about the "barney butter" obsessions, the oatmeal creations, the holiday eats, the family occasions. It has helped me to widen my food choices, try new things- I do THINK about these blogs when I am making my meals/snacks and I do add/change/try ideas I would never have the courage to do without knowing there was someone out there doing the same thing.

A common theme on the majority of these blogs is exercise. I generally skim over the working out parts- I don't belong to a gym, I've never gone running and I don't think I could even identify an elliptical machine in a line up :P It wasn't until recently that I noticed quite how much exercise these people do, and quite how often. Working out for 2 hours a day? Running 7-10 miles a day? Woah. I don't know anyone in "real" life who does this. I get chastised for my long power-walks, but these people get admiration (so they should- hell, I can't lift 30lb weights and do 3 spinning classes in a day!)

But now I am wondering what is normal after all, and I am really confused. Does everyone do this much exercise? Do these bloggers eat the amounts they do ONLY because they exercise, or does their love of exercise fuel their desire to be healthy? Do they enjoy it? Do they even consider whether or not they enjoy it?..

I know if I joined a gym, I would do what I always do and give it 110%, setting crazy goals for myself and either giving up completely too soon to achieve them, or run myself into the ground (literally) and relapsing.

How do these people manage eating, exercise and their jobs/work/relaxation stuff on top of everything else? How do they keep it all balanced?

Or, is it not balanced/"normal" at all?..

Changes On The Horizon

Everything suddenly seems to be happening so fast. Too fast. I have been offered a place at college to do a course I am really interested in. I applied, thinking that 1) I wouldn't get in, and 2) that it didn't start for another month.

I got a place.

It starts in less than two weeks.

No problem with this, except that it is 500 miles away.

Suddenly it seems a little daunting.

I want to move. I NEED to move (which was partly why I applied), but suddenly have run out of time and there is just so.much.to.do.

I know me, and I know it will all come together in a manic organising frenzy. I'll sort out accommodation, packing, train fares. I'll do the paperwork, buy the textbooks- fly through the first month on adrenaline, then it will hit me that I really didn't think this through at all.

THEN WHAT?

Then I'll be 500 miles away from "home"- my family, my treatment team, all that is familiar. I'll be waiting for an intake with my new treatment team, the stress of my course will be kicking in, everything will be overwhelming and without the adrenaline, I'll crumble.

I need to stop this spiral before it starts.

Breathe. Relax. Remind myself that this course isn't the be-all and end-all. It's only a year. I don't have to do it forever if I decide it's not right. I can always come back here. I have more friends and support in London than I have up here- hell, the only reason I moved here in the first place was to live with my dad, and he moved 1000 miles away a year ago. I WANT this. I want to move, and at least with college starting, I'll have structure and deadlines and momentum to get me through the stress of moving (I thrive under pressure, then crumble when the initial stress is lifted).

This has the potential to be a disaster. It also has the potential to be amazing. I'm going to focus on the "amazing" aspect for now...

My life: the soap opera

I do sometimes feel like I am living in a soap opera. I'm in an awkward relationship- actually, several. Several that are held together by the one thing pulling them apart, and I watch on in horror as if it's somebody else's life unfolding before my eyes- the whole "will they? won't they?", going around in circles, back and forth, to and fro...is it ever going to end? Who knows. The cycle is painfully pathetic to watch. The common theme in all of these relationships is ME. An analyst might say that I put myself in these situations out of low self-esteem/self-hatred/whatever. I think I do it purely because it's all that I know HOW to do. I remain pulled towards something that I know is not healthy for me, yet remain convinced on some level that the relationship has something to offer me.

I cling to hope.

I believe the lies.

I believe that it will all work out well in the end.

All evidence suggests that it most definitely isn't going to work out as I hope- yet I stay stuck, working away, hoping that this episode will have a happy ending. Is there such a thing? Really? This is real life. Not a soap opera. I'm writing the script- the same storyline played out in various scenarios. Where do I find some new material? This is starting to get old.

Fast forward 3/6/9 months and I've moved on to something else. Yet I remain watchful of that old flame which still flickers. I can't let it die out- not yet. As long as there is a glimmer of light, there's a chance that now is the right time to rush in and rekindle it. Ouch. Again, I've gotten burned, and I sit surrounded by ashes berating myself for making the same mistake again, and again, and again.

I want it to be over. REALLY over. I hate feeling that I *need* this. I hate feeling dependant. I hate feeling like my whole existence is based upon my expectations of someone/something else. It's so hard to walk away- I don't know if I can. Or how. Or where I would end up. At least with this, I can predict what is going to happen, as miserable as it may be.